The Descartes Legacy
Lucas Grafton has spent the last ten years hunting the Conclave, a secret organization who took everything from him: his wife, his child, his very identity. Now he has a lead—an imminent terrorist attack on London—code-named Descartes.
Born with a genetic illness, Jenna Young has always known she was different. But the unexpected death of her father catapults her into a world of murder and terrorism she never expected. In order to stay alive, she must solve a twenty-five year old mystery—and her only ally a hard bitter man in search or retribution, her only clue the Descartes Highlands, an area on the near side of the moon.
Luke’s need for revenge collides with Jenna’s hunt for the past, and together they must stand against the Conclave. All the while uncovering the truth behind Jenna’s illness, a truth that will make Jenna question her very humanity.
Luke felt her go soft and boneless against him. His body was totally relaxed, but something niggled at his mind, and he realized with a start that he felt cheated, used. The thought almost made him smile. Although he was all for role reversal, he wasn’t sure he liked this one.
But he understood why she had acted as she had.
He’d used sex the same way, many times. Used it to block out the bad memories for a little while. But casual sex always left him with a feeling of emptiness, and now, he was filled with the need to make her see him as more than just a means to forget—he wanted to be someone she would remember.
She was the most beautiful woman he had ever slept with. Probably the most beautiful he had ever seen. As he pulled away to look into her face, a shiver of unease ran through him.
Truth was, she was almost too perfect. Her bone structure was flawless, her skin without blemish, her nose straight, her mouth ideally proportioned.
Her eyes were closed, and they blinked open as if she could sense his stare. “What?”
He smiled. “I was thinking how perfect you were.”
Something flickered across her face. “I’m not perfect. I might look okay, but it’s a pretty, pointless facade that covers up the crap underneath. I’m flawed—about as far from perfect as it’s possible to get.”
The bitterness in her voice was clear. For a moment, he had no clue what she was talking about. Then he remembered. He hadn’t thought much about her illness since she’d mentioned it yesterday, but now he realized how big a part it played in her life and in her perceptions of herself as a person.
Stroking the hair from her face, he leaned close and kissed her gently. “It’s a small part of you. It’s not who you are.”
The moment she opened her mouth to protest, he stopped the words with a kiss.
Their legs were tangled together. He was still deep inside her, and at the taste of her mouth, his cock hardened. Her hips shifted against him, and he knew she’d felt it too.
He deepened the kiss, and rocked against her.
This time their lovemaking was slow and erotic. He kissed her mouth, her lashes, pressed his lips to her pulse, nipped the tender spot where her shoulder met her neck, and took one taut nipple between his lips. When she writhed under him, urging him faster, he held her tight against him, kept his movements slow and controlled. His balls ached for relief, but he dragged out the pleasure, feeling her excitement rise with each slow flex of his hips.
Shifting his hands, he spread her legs, pushing her sex close, grinding against her, rotating in small tight circles against the sensitive spot between her thighs until her breath quickened. Her skin glowed with a fine sheen of sweat, and she strained toward him, her eyes fluttering open as his hand moved between their bodies. His fingers slid through the curls at the base of her belly, and he held her gaze as he pinched the swollen bud between his finger and thumb.
Her eyes widened with shock, her back arched, and she screamed. He soothed her with his thumb then pinched again, feeling her inner muscles contract around him. Finally, he released his control, and his own orgasm ripped through him, on and on as she clenched him tight inside her.
He should get up—go and do some research. Start analyzing the information they had retrieved from Merrick’s house. Instead, as he had the night before, he held Jenna tight and closed his eyes
Nina Croft grew up in the north of England. After training as an accountant, she spent four years working as a volunteer in Zambia which left her with a love of the sun and a dislike of 9-5 work. She then spent a number of years mixing travel (whenever possible) with work (whenever necessary) but has now settled down to a life of writing and picking almonds on a remote farm in the mountains of southern Spain.
Anytime, anyplace, anyone…love finds a way.