STRIPPED

As a member of the CIA’s elite, Black Opals, Natalya Trubachev must live a lie, working undercover as the lover of Dmitri, a Russian mob boss...

LIE TO ME

After helping to break up a Russian human trafficking ring as part of the CIA’s elite Black Opal team, Alexei Nikanova’s newest assignment is to rescue...

Showing posts with label romance novel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label romance novel. Show all posts

17 September, 2013

Explosive - Release Day!

Hi everyone!  It's Release Day!!

Please give a warm welcome to EXPLOSIVE, the third book in the Black Opal series, by my alter-ego, Tori St. Claire.  You can give it a try for only $2.99!

KINDLE version will be live today - Amazon has fixed my account.

For now:  Buy Paperback
Buy Digital:  Nook  |  Kobo  |  All Romance eBooks

  A man on the hunt...

Jayce Honeycutt never imagined returning to his hometown for a wedding would find him confronting the woman he intended to marry. Nor did he anticipate the passion they once knew would burn as hot and bright as ever. Only now Alyssa’s involved with Jayce’s former best friend, and Jayce can’t bring himself to interfere. When he learns Alyssa may be in danger, however, everything changes. As the threats against her life escalate, Jayce will stop at nothing to unveil the secrets she’s hiding. Even if it means risking his heart all over again.

A woman on the run…

Ten years ago, a brutal attack forced Alyssa Martin into a world of solitary darkness. She threw herself into her career, but now her work has led her back into the nightmare of her past and thrust her into a deadly game. When her roommate employs Jayce for her protection, memories compound. She’s never forgotten their shared desire, and her body still craves his masterful touch. Yet Jayce is determined to break down her protective walls, and confiding in him is more frightening than the shadows stalking her. But someone else is determined to control her. To survive, Alyssa must trust in Jayce and bare herself completely.

EXCERPT

CHAPTER ONE
Of all the god-awful methods of torture Jayce Honeycutt could envision, weddings ranked at the top of his list. That was saying a lot, considering he’d spent the last ten years of his life disarming bombs for the CIA’s specialized, undocumented team of Black Opals. He’d done his fair share of making threats on US security go away as well, sometimes using those very same methods of torture on subjects that held critical information. But hands-down, a wedding beat every documented and undocumented coercion tactic he knew.

After the last fiasco, when Alexei Nikanova—one of the most esteemed Black Opals, no less—married a virtual terrorist, Jayce had his fill. No more weddings. No more people losing their goddamn minds and throwing away perfectly good careers in the name of the two-faced bitch called love.

That is, until his older sister Jasmine called a month ago. Now he was back in Boulder, Colorado, the last place on earth he wanted to be, not only attending, but participating, in a damn wedding.

He slammed his pickup into third and skidded around the corner. He’d endured the family dinner with the in-laws he’d never see again. Suffered enough polite handshakes, false hugs, and sugary sweet smiles to last a lifetime. Now he couldn’t get to the bar fast enough. One beer to take the edge off. Another to clear his head—around five he might just forget how Boulder had changed his life and how he’d once been dumb enough to buy into the fantasy of weddings and lifelong nuptials. True, he’d never made it to the altar. No, Alyssa hadn’t let it get that far before she vanished, she and their unborn child.

Grinding his teeth against the unwanted rise of memories, Jayce eased up on the accelerator. Just as revisiting the past would bring up trouble, so would getting a ticket. Kevin Clark, director of the Black Opals, would make him eat this one. The three in London had pushed his boss a bit too far. Not to mention Jayce’s attitude about Alexei’s wife. Clark had all but forced Jayce to accept Jasmine’s request to escort her down the aisle. Not that he would have refused. This gave him the opportunity to be near his younger sister, Jordan, at a time she needed company the most.

A bright orange neon sign announced that Jayce had reached his destination and welcomed visitors to the Rocky Mountain Taproom. He nosed into a parking space, killed the engine, and jumped out of the car. Pocketing his keys, he entered a world of sultry blues and even more sultry lights. For the most part, the bar was dead, as he’d expected on a Wednesday night. A few men gathered around the pool table. Near the bar, three ladies laughed over the sound of a crooning sax. They looked his way as he grabbed a barstool. One shyly lifted a manicured hand to wave.

Jayce nodded at the brunette. Cute, but he wasn’t looking for a piece of tail. Not tonight. In another hour he was supposed to meet Jordan. She’d said she wanted to talk. About what made Jayce’s stomach twist into knots. He didn’t want to confront those memories either. All they did was remind him how he’d failed the one person he was closest to. How he’d been so caught up in his own disaster he couldn’t bring himself to help his sister fight the bastard who raped her and subsequently convinced the entire town she’d brought it on herself.
Still, he owed it to Jordan to be there for her. With Jasmine’s wedding approaching, the date of the disaster so near, he couldn’t tolerate the idea of leaving Jordan alone right now.

“What’ll it be, handsome?” The bartender propped her elbows on a polished brass rail, bending forward until Jayce couldn’t help but notice her nipples were about to escape the low-cut tank top.

“Coors Light, bottle.”

Her mouth curved up in an approving grin, and she tapped stubby nails on the polished wood. “Hometown boy at heart.”

Jayce chuckled. “Yeah, something like that.”

As she fished a frosty bottle from the cooler, she cocked her head to study him. “Hey, don’t I know you? Class of 2000. Jayce…Harcourt?”

“Honeycutt.” For the life of him, he couldn’t begin to produce her name. He supposed that shouldn’t surprise him; he’d blocked most of that year out.

She set his bottle down and extended her hand. “Marcie Lauflin. We had Accounting I together.”

Accounting. Jayce bit back a grimace. No wonder he didn’t recognize a thing about Marcie. Alyssa had been in Accounting I. He couldn’t recall a single lesson—he’d singularly attended class so they could spend time together. It was the only way they could be together without worry of getting caught.

He slid his hand into Marcie’s and gave it a shake. “It’s a pleasure. I see Boulder hasn’t changed much.”

“Nah, it never does.” She grinned. “You know how it is. What brings you back to town?”

“Wedding. My sister’s.”

Marcie wrinkled her nose, echoing Jayce’s very poignant sentiment. “Ew.”

“Yeah tell me about it. Not exactly my cup of tea. But…family…” Lifting his beer, he offered Marcie a mock toast, then downed a hearty mouthful. The cold coated his throat and soothed the tightness in his gut.

“You ran with Brice McTavish, didn’t you?”

Wow. Talk about a name from the past. Though Jayce had cut Brice off along with everyone else in Boulder, they’d been tight as teens. Both of them just barely getting by, one foot in the grave, the other barreling on ahead, hoping they’d manage to graduate by the skin of their teeth. Neither wanted to be held back again. “Is McTavish still around?” It might be nice to revisit that particular person from his past. Have a few laughs while he was in town, a few beers, a few minutes of disbelief that they were still alive.

“He’s still here. He’s some big name attorney now. Criminal law. Folks tend to look the other way when he’s around, ‘bout like they did back then.” She laughed again and swept a white cloth over the immaculate bar. “He’s a regular here on Wednesdays. I’m surprised he’s not in yet.”

“Really?” The night was looking up. Beating McTavish at a game of pool would improve Jayce’s mood ten-fold.

“Yep. He must be hung up at the office.” With a frown on her overly-painted face, Marcie rose on her toes and looked over Jayce’s head at the front door. “Wait. He’s coming inside now. Hey, Brice!”

Jayce cringed as her brittle voice thundered over the music. Damn, no wonder she was tending bar. She could break up a fight with just a yell. No one would want to stick around long enough to hear it twice.

“Evening, Marcie,” Brice called in amicable return. “Got a Jim and Seven for me?”

“Got something better. Look who’s in town.” Marcie thrust a plump arm under Jayce’s nose. “Jayce Honeycutt.”

“Jayce?” Brice’s grin doubled in size as he slid onto the stool beside Jayce’s and thrust out his hand. “I’ll be damned. Never thought I’d see you around here again.” As Jayce fitted his hand in Brice’s and gave it a firm squeeze, his childhood best friend enveloped him in a brotherly hug. “It’s good to see you, man.”

“Good to see you too, McTavish.” That was the one, the only, truthful thing he’d said all night. He took Brice in quickly, observing he’d evidently bettered his life. Crisp lines defined a custom-tailored, dark grey, Italian suit. Beneath the stylish coat, white silk opened at the collar. His brown hair was cut short, no longer clinging to his shoulders or falling in his eyes. And he’d shaved. Something McTavish avoided in high school like most men avoided low-rate whores.

“So where you been?” McTavish asked as Marcie passed him his drink.

Jayce took another pull from his beer before issuing his concocted excuse. “I’ve been working security.”

“Security?” McTavish gestured at Jayce’s own imported black suit. “Didn’t know installations could dress a man like that.”

Chuckling, Jayce shook his head. “Not installations. Consultations. Custom designs for the wealthy.”

McTavish let out a long low whistle. “Nice.”

“Marcie says you’re an attorney now?”

“Yeah, gotta pay the bills somehow. After the first year of partying at CSU, I realized rent didn’t come free. Got my act together. Managed to graduate. Opened my own practice about four years ago.”

“Like it?”

“Love it.”

McTavish darted a jerky glance at his watch, then smoothed his free hand down his pants leg. Too many years of being trained to notice insignificant actions alerted Jayce to the absent gestures. Nervous. Hiding something. But what? And why?

Jayce didn’t have long to wait to discover the answer. As he swigged another drink, the men surrounding the pool table all did an about-face toward the door. He turned, curious what, or rather who, captured their immediate attention. At the sight of silken hair the color of rich chocolate, a waist so tiny it would make Scarlet O’Hara cry, and a smile that could silence an angel chorus, Jayce’s heart slammed to a halt.

Alyssa Martin. Holy fuck, he hadn’t prepared for her on any level. Let alone the way she sidled up to McTavish and planted an affectionate kiss on his mouth.

“Hey, babe. Who’s your—” Turning toward Jayce, her words abruptly stopped. Recognition flashed behind even richer brown eyes. In a heartbeat’s passing, her delicate face washed white. “Jayce,” she exhaled.

He couldn’t speak. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t produce a single word. Dozens rallied in his head. Questions she’d never answered—where had she gone, where did he screw up? What happened to our baby? Nothing worked its way past his dry-as-sand throat.

She blew out a breath that fanned the loose tendrils around her face and restored a bit of color to her fair cheeks. “You look…good.”

So did she. Fucking hot as hell. Slimming pencil skirt in khaki, a flirty summer blouse that accented her toned arms—she was every bit as beautiful as she’d been when he’d fallen head over heels for her. More so now that she’d filled out. Her breasts were full and pert, her hips narrow and defined. Her waist still so small he could fit his hands around it and touch his fingertips if he squeezed just a little. And her hair… God, her hair. She hadn’t cut it. Ten years, and it was still as long and glorious as he remembered. He’d bet his soul it would still slide like satin between his fingertips.

Old longing pitched his stomach in a violent circle, and Jayce struggled to put words in order. He had to say something. Something other than a demand for answers. He forced a smile he hoped was casual. “Hey, you.”

His stomach lurched again as Alyssa perched herself on Brice’s knee. Though he hadn’t seen her in a decade, though he had every right to want to strangle Alyssa Martin, the sight of her with Brice was like someone rammed a boot in Jayce’s gut. A steel-toed one that cracked a rib. Christ, the burn was agonizing.

His Alyssa, the woman he’d done everything he could to provide a life for, was with his best friend. Former best friend. Perched on his lap in a way that couldn’t be mistaken as anything but intimate.

The irrational need to put a bullet in McTavish’s forehead possessed Jayce. He turned away and stared at his beer, the malt flavor now as bitter as rotten hops. As a covert operative, he should have anticipated Alyssa might be in Boulder. But last he’d heard, she’d left the city. Her parents gloated when they informed him she’d gone to her aunt’s in New Mexico. It was the only bit of information they’d ever volunteered.

If they’d liked him better, if his family came from the same wealth as hers…

He clenched a hand around the cold glass and choked the timeless questions down.

“Jayce?”

Alyssa’s voice reached him distantly, pulling him out of thoughts he had no business entertaining. The faint touch of her hand on his shoulder seared like coals. He forced himself not to flinch.

“Should I…go, Jayce?”


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03 July, 2012

New Reviews! Lie To Me Release Day Teaser - Chapter 2 -- and Giveaway!

Well, here it is -- LIE TO ME's Release Day!  Yay!

And to celebrate, I'm bringing you the last of our Tuesday Teasers on this book, with the full Chapter Two.  Time to meet Alexei, ladies!

PLUS -- Another of my favorite bloggers has interviewed me today, and I have two reviews to share!

Join me at Under the Covers for the Lie to Me Blog Tour and an interview about the series.

Quick reviews:

4 Stars - Musings from an Addicted Reader: "Lie To Me has it all betrayal, suspense, explosive characters, and more."
5 Feathers - Under the Covers"A blood-pounding, edge of seat, toe curling adventure!  Truly a must-read book!"


Onto the excerpt!
For those of you just tuning in and wanting to know what this is all about, check out the previous posts:

Prologue, Part 1
Prologue, Part 2
Chapter One, Part 1
Chapter One, Part 2

A man of action…

After helping to break up a Russian human trafficking ring as part of the CIA’s elite Black Opal team, Alexei Nikanova’s newest assignment is to rescue one of the stolen women and return her to her father. When he arrives in Dubai, he discovers his target is Sasha Zablosky—a woman he knows all too well, and who has haunted him ever since their unforgettable nights spent together in Moscow, two years earlier. But he finds Sasha reluctant to leave her Sheik, the only true friend she’s ever known. Only Alexei can’t give her a choice.

A woman of deception…

With their yearning roused by intrigue, Alexei and Sasha can no longer resist and spend night after night in forbidden pleasure. Soon Alexei finds himself falling for her even as he battles a shadowy menace to protect her. But Sasha is no innocent. She has a past darker than she could ever admit or that Alexei could ever forgive. And it is about to explode into her life once more. Now, as the lies they tell themselves—and each other—pull them deeper into a perilous desire, what began as simple passion becomes a love certain to destroy them and end the lives of countless innocents.

~~@~~

Chapter Two

When he’d become an errand boy, much less a baby sitter, Alexei Nikanova couldn’t say. He thought he’d risen above the menial task of fetching coveted items and entertaining troublesome women when he joined the Black Opals ten years ago. Evidently, he’d been mistaken.

Glancing around Saeed’s opulent marble foyer, Alexei bit back a mutter. He’d also thought he was finally free of this damned desert weather and these power-hungry sheikhs. After Natalya Trubachev, the Opal he’d worked with in Moscow, had blown the Bratva’s human trafficking ring open, and he’d fought like hell to get the enslaved women home to somehow make amends for kidnapping them, Alexei thought he would never set foot in Dubai again.

If he hadn’t accidentally taken the wrong girl two and a half years ago, he might have seen that wish fulfilled. As it was, Sasha Zablosky’s father was raising holy hell about his missing daughter. When HQ realized she was the same Sasha holed up with Saeed, they’d borrowed the identity of Vasily, who they had very recently captured, and sent Alexei back to clean up his mistake so fast he barely had time to formulate a strategy.

He’d protested, to be sure. Between the risk of being recognized and his borrowed alias, no operative wouldn’t. But bitching got him nowhere except on a plane with false papers once again in hand. Halfway across the ocean, he’d kicked himself for refusing to look at the photographs they offered. He couldn’t. He couldn’t bear to look at the innocent face. Now, his guilt-driven reaction forced him to rely on someone else’s analysis and only made the situation more dangerous.

If Amir’s cherished son could actually arrive on time, Alexei might yet get out of this mess before things went from bad to horrible. The only saving grace he could take a modicum of relief in was that Saeed had never met Alexei or Vasily. Just Alexei posing as Vasily.

He shifted his weight, eyeing the doorway at the far hall that led to Saeed’s private wing of the palace. If he stopped to think about what he was about to do, he’d hate himself more. For fuck’s sake, he was entertaining the same sick pleasures that he had fought to stop. Sure, he had been an integral part of condemning women like the very same Sasha he was extracting, and that knowledge ate him up like cancer. But jobs were jobs, and they’d been that way since . . .

Since other things he’d stopped thinking about long ago.

Things that were better left in the dark. Where he couldn’t acknowledge who or what he was. What he’d become.

Where the hell are you, asshole?

Alexei was pissed off , nervous, and antsy. Individually, any of those emotions were enough to land him in an unmarked grave. Combined, they were nothing short of suicidal. If he had a bit of sense he’d get the hell out of here and forget about this little intimate arrangement, find some other way to handle the extraction. But no, he’d orchestrated this. It was the only way to get to Sasha alone. Besides, the more time he spent in-country planning alternate tactics, the higher the risk of being ousted. He couldn’t bail. Failure wasn’t an option.

He took a deep breath and willed the anxiety aside. The weight of his Sig resting against his side offered comfort. Saeed trusted him. Enough to let him enter the palace armed.

The young sheikh’s first mistake—but he’d learn soon enough. The rest of the lessons Saeed would learn tonight . . . Well, with a little luck, things wouldn’t get out of hand. Alexei really didn’t want to up the body count any higher. Too many people had given their lives for this crazy nightmare. Those who died in body, and those who died in spirit.

Hurry the fuck up.

Before other memories surfaced about another woman he’d betrayed. A waif-thin scrap of a girl whose pale blue eyes still gazed up at him in silent acceptance of the hell he’d sent her to.

Footsteps echoed behind the closed door as Alexei’s thoughts took a dangerous slant. He rolled his shoulders and forced Irina down into the depths of his mind. She’d surface again—she always did. But for now, he needed to focus on getting himself, and Sasha, out alive.

Saeed’s strong frame filled the distant doorway, his smile as welcoming as if they were long-lost friends. Alexei’s gut cinched tight. They could never be friends, even though they shared the same sins.

“Vasily.” Saeed greeted him heartily. He clasped Alexei’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “Welcome to my home. I trust my security did not harass you?”

It took all of Alexei’s willpower to keep his voice even and void of the distaste that surfaced to the back of his throat. He took care to make his English stilted in accordance to his Russian cover. Though in truth, after so many years of speaking nothing but Russian, he didn’t have to work hard.

“No. It went as I expected.”

“Come then.” Saeed gestured at an open alcove where stark white modern furniture sat against steel gray walls. “Let us discuss business first. Then we shall indulge in the entertainment.”

Entertainment—Alexei forced himself not to grimace. Saeed might get off tonight, but Alexei wouldn’t. His body would respond, but just like before the Opals, his mind would be elsewhere. Saeed’s presence made it more tolerable. Distance was easier to achieve as the third.

He fell into step behind Saeed and followed him to the smaller room. As they approached a floor-to-ceiling gilt mirror, he cut his gaze to the man in front of him. Saeed’s stride spoke of natural-born confidence. Of Amir’s three sons, he was the middle boy. Rumor held he came into the kingship by chance. That Amir and Mohammad, his eldest, had a falling out at the last formal meeting between Arabic nations. In a fit of temper, Amir denounced Mohammad. He’d killed himself before ever taking the insult back. Alexei knew the truth, despite the rumor that he’d offed Amir when he was exposed as the head of the trafficking ring. Though Alexei wished like hell he had.

All things considered, Alexei thought Amir made the smarter choice. Intel reports labeled Mohammad as a radical loose cannon. At least Saeed didn’t support the terrorist Muslim factions. And from what Alexei had heard, Saeed didn’t subscribe to the practice of permanently marking his women. Something Sasha and her father could be glad about.

“Would you care for a drink?” From behind a stocked bar of moderate size, Saeed indicated a hanging row of empty glasses.

“Water, please.”

“Indeed. A much smarter approach to business, I must agree.” He filled two stemmed glasses with ice, then poured water from a dark green bottle. Rounding the bar, he joined Alexei and gestured at a black leather chair. “Do sit down, Vasily. We shall be intimately acquainted before the night is through.”

As Alexei sat, he couldn’t stop a frown. “Is she willing? Did you ask?” He refused to force himself on a woman.

Saeed chuckled. “I care for her. If she had protested, I would be offering you other choices.”

Another way of saying no, he hadn’t asked. Very well. Alexei would play it by ear. He didn’t need to fuck the woman to accomplish this mission. It had merely been the quickest, easiest option to get a little time alone with her and catch Saeed with his guard down. If she resisted anything tonight, Alexei would find an alternate solution. Even if it meant spending more time in this godforsaken city.

“So, these connections you possess. Tell me of them.” Suddenly serious, Saeed’s smile vanished and his demeanor took on the impassive air of business.

Alexei settled into the role he knew by heart. He’d done it too long. Let it get inside him, where it festered. Now it was ingrained routine. One he hated, but routine all the same. “The women are collected from private nightclubs where their . . . skills . . . are evaluated through their talent with dance.” Careful to adhere to Saeed’s preference to somehow dignify the act of trading women for sex, Alexei did his best to avoid the blunt truth that strippers were chosen by how thoroughly they aroused the crowd.

“And they are all blonde?”

“They were under your father’s direction.”

Saeed frowned. “I suspect there was a reason for such. Did he convey it to you?”

Alexei forced a grim smile. “American businessmen, tired of being away from home, spend money for women who appear to be American. European will work as well. After all, they are not required to talk, are they?”

He couldn’t keep the bitterness down. Worse than the trafficking itself was the fact he had been integral to it. That he had preyed on trust, drugged the unsuspecting like Irina, and transported them to a despicable fate. All the while, he had fed them heroin to keep them subservient, to hook them so they only cared about their next fix, not what the revolving door of strangers wanted from them. Even all the risks he took to restore their lives, to get them treatment for their addictions, couldn’t absolve his actions, even if they were in the name of national security.

His hand tightened on his glass, and he set it aside before he snapped the stem in two. As it always did, the thought of Irina and the likely fate she had met twisted his heart. He’d tried like hell to keep her out of his mind. Even went so far as to try to forget her for several months by living life at the bottom of a glass. Nothing worked. She was a canker that wouldn’t heal.

He’d betrayed the only woman who had ever provoked his dead emotions.

“I suppose not.” Saeed looked like the admission didn’t sit well with him either. Then he shrugged, as if it weren’t something to concern himself with. As if this business of human trafficking and sexual slavery was apart from him. Even when he owned and enjoyed one of those very same women. “And Moscow’s Bratva—they are stable enough to relaunch this venture?”

Not hardly. “Yes. I have spoken with them directly. They are willing to put their trust in you.”

“I find that difficult to believe in light of all the upheaval concerning my father.”

Alexei chuckled. “Why should they care? No one will miss a stripper. Money is power. Power is influence.” And sex goes hand in hand with both. How well he knew that truth.

“You make a good point.” Saeed nodded thoughtfully. “Very well, when this night is concluded, what are our next steps?”

There wouldn’t be any next steps. With Dmitri Gavrikov’s arrest, the Bratva was in chaos trying to decide their next permanent leader. Several key figureheads were in detention, and every last person involved with the human trafficking ring was either dead or behind bars. This was all an elaborate fiction created by Black Opal operatives for one woman whose aggrieved father couldn’t accept the likelihood she was dead. One very lucky woman who’d escaped the fate of whatever the men who paid for her desired, and who had a wealthy sheikh to support her heroin habit.

Alexei took a drink to let the lies percolate, then set his glass back on the mirror-topped table. “When I leave, we shall be agreed on a date of delivery. I will deliver the cargo personally, to a place of your choosing—though I suggest not your palace—and you will make the payment at that time.” He squinted for emphasis. “In United States dollars.”

“They will be . . . subdued?”

“Of course.”

“And once they are here—who shall attend to their care?”

Alexei shrugged one shoulder. “You will have to hire someone. I suggest you find a nurse. Their dosages must be carefully monitored.” As Saeed likely already knew.

“Very well then. I shall make the necessary staffing adjustments. It is April now, can you deliver by August?”

Making a show of putting great thought into his answer, Alexei took his time with a slow nod. “That can be arranged.”

A smile broke across Saeed’s face, hesitant at first, then assuming more emphasis as he reached to shake Alexei’s hand. “Consider it agreed.”

Alexei shook, then clasped the young sheikh’s hand in both of his and added an emphatic squeeze. “It is done.”

“Now, let us talk of more important matters.” All hints of good humor vanished under Saeed’s sudden, piercing stare. “I will tolerate no abuse to Sasha.”

“I understand.”

“If she expresses any displeasure, this ends, immediately. I have promised her she will only enjoy this evening. I will not have that vow compromised.”

Alexei nodded again. Odd how this man protected his possessions. She was a sexual toy, one he’d purchased, and yet, he genuinely seemed concerned about her well-being. Damned odd.

Saeed’s voice returned to its normal amicable warmth. “I will be the third this evening. You will aid in her preparation, but you may not find your release inside what belongs to me.”

Good. No need to push himself to the brink with pretending. He could roll aside and let Saeed take over while Alexei quietly jacked off to alleviate the need for physical release. No fear he might whisper the damnable name of the woman who haunted him each time he tried with another.

Still, the disclosure he would not act as third surprised him. He cocked his head and repeated, “You will be the third?”

Saeed passed a hand over the neatly trimmed line of hair that edged his jaw. “She belongs to me. Her happiness is my responsibility.” He paused to give Alexei a troubled frown. “As it is also my responsibility to remove all her pain.”

In that moment, Alexei witnessed a different man than the young sheikh who sought to patch together his father’s crumbling legacy. He stared into the brittle eyes of a man who genuinely cared for the woman that had come into his possession. Saeed didn’t want to share Sasha any more than Alexei wanted to be here. And yet, Saeed was willing to sacrifice to protect his family from destruction. His decision had been made for him.

Alexei understood that.

He respected it even more. He’d been there once. Knew the anguish of having no choice. Understood how that kind of circumstance shredded a man inside.

Son of a bitch, he didn’t want to be responsible for forcing that on anyone. He could find another way to get Sasha out of here. It would be better for all of them.

Standing, he cleared his throat. “I should leave.”

Saeed’s lips formed a tight, hard line. Jaw set, he shook his head as he rose to his feet. “I honor my promises, Vasily. In all things.” Turning crisply, he beckoned Alexei to follow. “Come. She waits.”




And for a bonus -- I have a signed copy of Lie To Me for one randomly drawn commentor who can tell me why you read erotic romance.


05 June, 2012

Sneak Peak! Lie To Me, Prologue Pt. 2

Hi everybody!

Last week I mentioned that the next several Tuesdays I'm previewing the opening chapters to Lie To Me, my July 3rd release.  My goal is to have the first two chapters posted by release date.  Whoo-hoo!

You can last week's installment here:

Prologue, Part 1

Now to pick up where we left off!


A man of action…

After helping to break up a Russian human trafficking ring as part of the CIA’s elite Black Opal team, Alexei Nikanova’s newest assignment is to rescue one of the stolen women and return her to her father. When he arrives in Dubai, he discovers his target is Sasha Zablosky—a woman he knows all too well, and who has haunted him ever since their unforgettable nights spent together in Moscow, two years earlier. But he finds Sasha reluctant to leave her Sheik, the only true friend she’s ever known. Only Alexei can’t give her a choice.

A woman of deception…

With their yearning roused by intrigue, Alexei and Sasha can no longer resist and spend night after night in forbidden pleasure. Soon Alexei finds himself falling for her even as he battles a shadowy menace to protect her. But Sasha is no innocent. She has a past darker than she could ever admit or that Alexei could ever forgive. And it is about to explode into her life once more. Now, as the lies they tell themselves—and each other—pull them deeper into a perilous desire, what began as simple passion becomes a love certain to destroy them and end the lives of countless innocents.

~~@~~

The nearly inaudible response sent chills skittering across her exposed skin. She crossed her arms over her breasts and rubbed at goose bumps. “I do. Tell me where you’re taking me.”

He didn’t look at her as he murmured, “To Dubai.”

Dubai. Sasha blinked. Last she’d heard, Dubai wasn’t a place to drop off Bratva informants. Dmitri Gavrikov and the rest of the Moscow mafia preferred to dispose of their liabilities in rivers, abandoned plots of lands, snow-covered forests—not metropolises.

“What’s in Dubai?”

“A sheikh.” His gaze slid to hers for the briefest of seconds before it fixed once more on the fl at gray wall. Muscles flexed in his cheek, sharpening the angle of his bristly jaw. “You’ve been . . . traded.”

She squinted at his handsome profile. Apprehension bubbled beneath her skin, chasing away the tremendous chill of the late October night. “Traded for what?”

Alexei glanced down at the syringe in his hands, and his hair fell over his shoulders to curtain his expression. His voice was a strained whisper. “There’s an elite hotel. You’ll join . . . the others. For half a million U.S. dollars you’ll entertain businessmen.” He tapped the covered needle. “This will keep you sane.” He looked up, his unsettling gaze locking with hers. “Somewhat.”

Thoughts collided in Sasha’s head. Traded. Entertain businessmen. Sheikh . . .

No. More. Russia.

For six months, she’d been trying to figure out how to get out of the country. Her father’s political power made it impossible to obtain a visa, to even skirt the borders without getting caught. Unwittingly, Alexei was providing that impossible escape.

She held Alexei’s troubled gaze. “I’m to be a whore. A possession and a slave.”

Swallowing again, Alexei answered with a curt nod. “It was why I came to your cousin’s club. You were chosen”—his green eyes flicked over her exposed body, and desire flashed hot before his gaze filled with remorse once again—“before what happened between us.”

“Chosen by whom?” Indignation colored her voice.

“I can’t say. It’s larger than both of us.”

Not the Bratva then. Sasha frowned. Common sense said she should be outraged. Furious with this man who’d taken her to his bed, fucked her until she was nearly delirious, and then betrayed her. But the part of her that had lived so long with guilt, the part that couldn’t forget the deaths she’d caused, whispered that this was fitting punishment.

She had no right to lead a carefree life. Though she’d never intended to harm a single person, let alone kill thirty, she didn’t deserve freedom. Paying that price with her body was insignificant. She’d still be alive—unlike the fate that awaited her in Russia.

Unlike what would happen if her father ever got his hands on her again.

In a strange, perverse way, Dubai offered a freedom that was wholly acceptable.

She gestured at the syringe in Alexei’s hand. She didn’t know what it was, didn’t want to know. But she sensed it would poison her for life, that if she allowed him to stick that needle into her, she’d lose her hold on reality.

“You can put that away.”

Surprise arched his strong brow.

“Take me wherever it is you’re taking me. But don’t put that in my veins.” As she realized what she was agreeing to, a foreboding weight settled on her shoulders and her throat inched closed. A fine sheen of moisture fuzzed her vision. “I won’t fight you. Just don’t give me that.”

For several, never-ending seconds, Alexei studied her. Protest registered in his expression, only to yield to a resignation that came with a heavy sigh. His broad shoulders bowed. Absently, he nodded, placed the syringe back in the leather case, then turned off the overhead light.

Silence spanned between them. The vehicle bounced on, springs rattling, engine cutting through the thick quiet. Cool night air invaded the tiny space, and Sasha clutched at the coarse canvas covering her lower body.

“Are you cold?” Alexei whispered.

Her voice rasped just as softly. “Yes.”

Strong arms wrapped around her waist and hauled her into a cushioning embrace. Alexei reached beneath her calves to drape her knees over his thighs, tucked the canvas tight around her body, and cradled her close. She snuggled into his arms, taking comfort in the warmth of his body, the crisp scent of soap that lingered on his clothing. Beneath her ear, his heart beat steady and strong.

She tipped her gaze to his face, taking in long, lowered eyelashes that dusted over high cheekbones and cloaked his startlingly light green gaze. His features tightened with unspoken pain and grief. The strength of his embrace echoed the same emotions.

She reached unsteady fingertips to his face and flattened her palm against his bristly cheek. Her thumb brushed across the stubble that edged his full, sensual mouth. His gaze held hers for a suspended heartbeat, before he crushed her close and his mouth fluttered through her hair. “I’m so sorry, Irina.”

Despite whatever drove him, whatever obligation he sought to fulfill, in her heart, Sasha knew he was.


(Continued next Tuesday with Chapter 1.)

29 May, 2012

Sneak Peek at Lie To Me! - Pt. 1

Happy Tuesday, everyone!  I hope your holiday weekend was fun -- I thoroughly enjoyed mine.

If you follow my Claire Ashgrove blog, you know that every Tuesday I post teasers of my books.  I usually don't post the Tori St. Claire material there, but given that LIE TO ME's release date is rapidly approaching -- July 3! -- I'm featuring excerpts for the next few weeks.  This material will be added onto the website within a few days of posting as well.

Since this is where they are supposed to go, I'm also doing the same thing here.  And oh is it nice to not have to worry about a content warning!

By the time the release date rolls around, you'll have a preview to the first few chapters.  So, on that note -- let's get rolling!


A man of action…

After helping to break up a Russian human trafficking ring as part of the CIA’s elite Black Opal team, Alexei Nikanova’s newest assignment is to rescue one of the stolen women and return her to her father. When he arrives in Dubai, he discovers his target is Sasha Zablosky—a woman he knows all too well, and who has haunted him ever since their one unforgettable night together. But he finds Sasha reluctant to leave her Sheik, the only true friend she’s ever known. Only Alexei can’t give her a choice.

A woman of deception…

With their yearning roused by intrigue, Alexei and Sasha can no longer resist and spend night after night in forbidden pleasure. Soon Alexei finds himself falling for her even as he battles a shadowy menace to protect her. But Sasha is no innocent. She has a past darker than she could ever admit or that Alexei could ever forgive. And it is about to explode into her life once more. Now, as the lies they tell themselves—and each other—pull them deeper into a perilous desire, what began as simple passion becomes a love certain to destroy them and end the lives of countless innocents.

~~@~~

PROLOGUE

Two Years Earlier...


She was moving.

Her eyelids refused to open, but the back-and-forth rocking and the up-and-down motion invaded Sasha Zablosky’s bleary mind. Moving . . .

The monotonous hum of an engine filtered through a dull buzz in her ears. A loud engine. Diesel, and not one built for economy, if she had to take a guess. More like the buzz of the open-top Gaz’s used to transport her and her team to explosion test sites. Only . . . different.

Why in the hell was she moving? What happened to Alexei’s bed, the warm muscular body she’d fallen asleep beside every night for the last week? For that matter, where was he?

Her entire body lurched as the vehicle hit a pothole. The back of her head smacked into something hard, and dizzying nausea rose, threatening to pull her into a dark chasm of nothingness. Distantly, she heard herself moan.

A strong hand latched onto her elbow, grounding her, warm fingertips soaking through her chilled skin. “Easy, Irina. Not much longer now, and it will all be over.”

It took a moment to place the name she’d assumed six months ago when she fled her home, but her native Russian language caressed her ears the same way those warm fingertips stroked the sensitive skin inside her elbow. Sasha focused on the familiar richness, the voice she knew so well. Alexei was here. Relief poured through her.

Grasping at the sound of his voice, she struggled to surface through the fog that clouded her mind. Awareness grew. She was cold and lying on something made of cloth that did little to soften the harsh metallic floor beneath her back. Canvas . . . a tarp. The roar of the engine sharpened; her nose tickled at the faint musty scent.

Memories flashed through her mind. She’d danced for the leering men in her cousin’s nightclub. Stripped for a handful of rubles that wouldn’t feed her through the week. After she exited the ramshackle stage, Alexei had been waiting outside. Long golden-brown hair blew in the wind as he lounged against the brick exterior wall. Her gaze locked with his light green eyes, and all the desire that had flared between them upon her arrival at her cousin’s club three weeks earlier ignited once again. Barely able to keep their hands off each other long enough to make the short ride to his flat, she’d tumbled into his bed. What he’d done to her there . . .

The feel of Alexei’s hands and mouth on her body, the unending ache he created, the way he’d taken her hard and fast, then later slow and torturously—every vivid image burst forth in full color. On her hands and knees begging for release. Spread out beneath him, a slave to the flick of his tongue against her pussy. Astride his firm hips, his thick cock filling her up. She gave herself like she had with no man before. Body, heart, and soul.

It had always been that way between them. Alexei somehow reached inside and touched parts of her she didn’t realize existed. Last night though something drove him as well. When he’d finally had his fill of her, she’d fallen asleep exhausted beyond her means, well used. Significantly appreciated.

Sasha surged through the layered haze clouding her thoughts, and with a startled blink, opened her eyes. Shadows blanketed the small confines, but the hand on her arm kept panic at bay. Slowly, she turned her head. Her gaze registered on Alexei’s unshaven face and his sharp frown.

“Alexei?” She swallowed to moisten her dry throat.

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly to refocus her vision. When she looked again, Alexei’s hand fell away from an overhead lamp. Dim yellow light illuminated the steel gray walls of what had once been a military transport vehicle. He wore the same jeans and loose, long-sleeved black shirt he’d worn earlier. Only he hadn’t fastened his shirt all the way, leaving the first three buttons open to reveal smooth bronzed skin dusted with faint dark hair. The vehicle bounced again as it traveled over uneven terrain.

“Irina, I’m so sorry,” Alexei whispered.

As Sasha settled into her surroundings, she attempted a smile. “Where am I?” She glanced down at her rail-thin body, observing she wore only the bra and panties he’d so easily stripped away earlier. “Where are my clothes?”

The glint of metal caught her attention, and her gaze focused on Alexei. He fiddled with a small leather case in his lap. As his hands paused, a syringe loosely clasped in his fingers, he lifted remorseful green eyes to hers. “You’ll never forgive me, but for what it’s worth, what happened between us wasn’t part of my orders. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but I will never forget.”

Orders. Her thoughts skidded to a stop as Alexei reached for her arm once more. Years spent working in the Federal Security Service of the Russian Federation made that word stand out more than anything she’d heard in the last six months on the run. Had someone found her? Discovered what she’d done?

Was this Russia’s way of disposing of a loose cannon?

She jerked free of his grasp. “Wait.”

Anguish passed behind those light green eyes as he winced. He looked away. “You shouldn’t be awake, little one.” Shadows cut harsh lines into his already chiseled features and gave his unshaven face a dangerous appeal. His throat worked as he visibly swallowed.

Struggling to sit upright, she eased away from the enticing pull of his strong upper body. A harsh note crept into her voice. “Where are you taking me?”

“You don’t want to know.”

(Continued next Tuesday.)