RELEASE DATE: January 26th
“I tried to play a game. I tried to wield deceit as perfectly as the Hawks. But when I thought I was winning, I wasn’t. Jethro isn’t what he seems—he’s the master of duplicity. However, I refuse to let him annihilate me further.”
Nila Weaver has grown from naïve seamstress to full-blown fighter. Every humdrum object is her arsenal, and sex…sex is her greatest weapon of all.
She’s paid the First Debt. She’ll probably pay more.
But she has no intention of letting the Hawks win.
Jethro Hawk has found more than a worthy adversary in Nila—he’s found the woman who could destroy him. There’s a fine line between hatred and love, and an even finer path between fear and respect.
The fate of his house rests on his shoulders, but no matter how much ice lives inside his heart, Nila flames too bright to be extinguished.
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I’D TAKEN HER, but ultimately, she’d taken me.
I’d tried to destroy her, but serendipitously, she’d destroyed me.
This was the beginning of the end.
Not the end of my feelings for her but the way of my life, my world.
Something would have to change.
Something would have to give…
…
Someone would have to die.
I EXISTED
WITH a brain full of betrayal, schemes, and plotting.
Living
with the Hawks was utterly exhausting. Every day was a challenge to figure out
the truths from the lies. But no matter how hard I worked, I could never seem
to unravel reality from fiction.
He’d won.
And with
a winner came a loser. One triumphant and one depressed. A trophy over misery.
Two days
had passed since Kestrel had granted the truth to one huge mystery. Two days in
which I hadn’t been able to think of anything else.
I wanted
to hate Jethro for duping me—for stringing me along like an idiot.
But
whenever my anger boiled over, needing desperately to confront him, I
remembered one thing.
One
important, vital thing.
He’d
initiated contact before he was told.
He’d
communicated with me almost as if it were a cry for help, rather than a plot to
deceive.
If this
were another trick, then so help him, I’d find a way to castrate him.
But,
somehow, I didn’t think it was.
I had a
horrible feeling this was the one way that he would let me in. An avenue of
truths that he felt comfortable enough to continue, because a silent written
word didn’t have as much weight as a loudly spoken one.
Which
brought me back to my vitally important conclusion:
Jethro wants to be honest.
He wanted
to stop playing charades and show me everything he kept hidden.
He wanted
to talk to someone. Perhaps, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t
satisfied with the hand life dealt him and…
Stop fabricating excuses.
All day,
I’d been coming up with theories on why he was how he was and reading too far
into things that he’d done.
It could
be as simple as: he’d been told to get in touch. Told to initiate contact in a
way that could potentially mould me into a more submissive captive, especially
if I were to believe he was on my side.
I wanted
to believe he’d acted against his father. But no matter how much I wished it,
it didn’t make it was true.
How do you explain the knowing then?
I
slouched against my pillows in bed. That was true. A part of me just seemed to know. Call it either sheer idiocy or
feminine intuition. I believed he’d texted me because I was the first outsider
permitted into his world—the only one not a Hawk.
My brain
hurt.
When we
were alone, when we weren’t arguing or fighting, there was an enchanting
calmness. A connection.
Closing
my eyes, I let my mind skip back to Kes’s unwilling promise. The way his eyes
had darkened with secrets as I’d collapsed into his arms from the vertigo spell
two days ago.
“Nila?”
A crushing headache appeared from nowhere. It was
the most I could do to stay present and not permit my mind to relive every text
Jethro had sent to see the hidden agendas now that I knew it was him.
“I’m—I’m okay. You can let me go.” I struggled out
of Kes’s embrace, my skin humming from his touch. I needed some space. I needed
a world full of space to get over the treachery and lies.
“You didn’t know? You hadn’t guessed?” Kes crossed his
arms, never taking his golden eyes from mine.
I glowered. “How could I know? I thought the
messages were from you!”
He flinched. “Yes, that was the plan. To make you
believe it was me, so he could continue on with whatever little mind games he
was playing.” Leaning closer, he added, “I haven’t been privy to any of the
messages he sent you or you sent him—so don’t feel like I’ve intruded on
details that I shouldn’t.”
Anger infused my blood. “If you were both in on
it—why didn’t he show you the messages? Why were you so nice to me? What does
all of this mean?”
Kes moved away, reclining against a sapling. “I was
nice because that’s just who I am. Yes, I come from a family with twisted up
morals and I’m loyal to those
twisted up morals, but I also did it out of loyalty to my brother. If you’re
pissed, direct it all on him. Not me.”
“Oh, believe me. I’m pissed. Beyond pissed.” My
hands balled as my mind filled with crazy ideas of retribution and revenge. I
would make him pay.
“I’d cool down before you spring it on him. Best to
keep it quiet. Cut doesn’t know. It was just me who knew Jet had been in touch
with you before he was given the go-ahead to collect you in Milan.”
I froze. “Why did he initiate conversation with me
almost five weeks before he could claim me?”
Kes shook his head. “The day I understand my brother
is the day I’ll gamble my entire inheritance on the stock market. I can’t work
him out. The only thing I can do is be there for him. And I only found out
‘cause he changed pretty much around the same time he started messaging you.
Something was different—we’re close. So, I saw it before the others.”
My brain throbbed trying to figure out just what had
changed in Jethro. He’d seemed the perfect Hawk when he’d come to collect me.
Cold as ice and deadly as a sword.
Now that I knew his secret, I had power. And I had
no intention of giving that power back. Jethro had been playing me for far too
long. He’d successfully screwed with my head. It was time for payback. “Don’t
tell him that I know.”
Kes’s eyes popped wide. “Pardon?”
“You heard me. Don’t tell Jethro about today. Let
him continue to think I’m clueless.” My heart frothed with rage and
unhappiness. I was so stupid to believe I’d gotten through to him on some
level. The sex between us left both of us stripped bare. Something more than
family feuds and hatred existed when he slid inside me and sent both of us
shattering into dust.
I’d let him inside me. In so many ways. It was my
turn to do the same.
“You know I can’t do that, Nila. As welcome as you
are in our household, and as much as I like hanging out with you, I can’t
betray Jet. Not after everything he’s been through.”
I pounced on the small thread of truth about my
tormentor. “What has he been through, Kes? Tell me and I’ll march back to the
Hall right now and tell him myself.”
Kes shifted uncomfortably, refusing to meet my eyes.
“Slip of the tongue. Forget it.”
Crossing my arms, I hissed, “Fine. Seeing as you’re
so capable of keeping secrets, keep this one for me.”
Kes scowled. “Keeping my own flesh and blood’s
issues hidden isn’t the same thing as helping out a Weaver.”
My heart raced. If Jethro hadn’t taught me how to
stand up for myself, I would’ve cowered at the thought of being so pushy with a
full-grown man all alone in a forest. Now, I was raging and fully intended to
get my own way. “Give me two weeks. Two weeks before you tell him that I know.
Do that and I’ll be forever grateful.”
His shoulders slumped in defeat. “How can you be
forever grateful when forever isn’t something anyone has.”
Especially me, seeing as my lifespan was destined to
be significantly shorter than his.
“Just…please, Kestrel. One favour.”
It took him a while to give in. His allegiance to
his brother was strong.
Finally, he huffed. “Fine. But it won’t save you from
his temper when he finds out.”
However,
I had no intention of suffering Jethro’s wrath. I had every right to deceive
him after he did it to me. My revelations were safe—for now. I trusted that Kes
wouldn’t say anything. I didn’t know why, but on some level I did trust Kes—just enough to use him in
my plans. And I was fully committed to tripping Jethro up.
It was
his turn to divulge things he might not have if he’d known the truth. Hiding
behind the pretence that Kite was Kes had made him softer the past few weeks. I
would use that chink to make the crevice I’d been trying to form since I gave
him a blowjob after hunting me down.
I
couldn’t think about anything else. I couldn’t focus on sketching, sewing,
reading.
Nothing.
My brain
was a whirly-gig of Jethro. Kite. Jethro. Kite.
And I’d
had enough.
Throwing
myself out of bed after another sleepless night, I wrenched back the curtains
and glowered at the dismal weather.
The
watery dawn did nothing to inspire either anger or contentment. The sky was
grey. Fog looked like haunting ghosts, threading its ghoulish tentacles over
the lower woodland of the estate. No birds chirped or sun shone.
Summer
had truly abandoned us. The bite in the air shouted ‘go back to bed where it’s
warm’ but my brain had no such intention.
I hadn’t
relaxed for two days. I’d stared at my phone, determined to text Jethro and
trip him into revealing everything he kept secret, only to stare blankly at an
empty message.
Now that
I knew it was him, my willingness to show so much had gone. Knowledge was power
and he had too much of mine already. How could I dig deeper into his mystery
while maintaining all of mine?
The
answer—I couldn’t. And that made me incredibly nervous. To find out who he
truly was, I had to show everything that made me real. And despite the
emotional growth spurt I’d endured at the hands of the Hawks, I wasn’t ready to
evolve again. I’d lost so much of myself already—how much was I prepared to
leave behind before I became a perfect stranger?
“Ah!” I
dug my fingers into my hair. I needed a reprieve from my racing thoughts, and I
knew exactly how to do it.
Mother
Nature’s sudden urge to switch seasons from summer to winter couldn’t stop my
itch.
I needed
fresh air, and I needed it now.
Racing
around my room in the new Weaver quarters where Jethro had made me beg and come
apart with his cock deep inside me, I found my black spandex shorts and
highlighter pink sports bra. Pulling the clothing on, followed by my sneakers,
I quickly smoothed my hair into a bun, and shot from the room.
I hadn’t
worn my exercise gear since the morning of the Milan runway show. I’d sprinted
until I’d collapsed off the treadmill at the hotel, hoping I could dispel my
anxiety enough to hide my stupid nerves and prevent a vertigo spell in front of
the press.
It had
worked—mainly. Until Jethro arrived, of course.
The
moment when I’d set eyes upon him, I’d been done for. He’d been so dashing with
his suit, tie, and diamond pin. So perfectly refined with his elegant haircut,
chiselled physique, and sculptured lips. Even though his soul was dark, his
body had summoned me.
He’d
called to me, and like the stupid Weaver I was, I’d followed him blindly.
Now, it’s his turn to follow my whims, my rules.
Jogging
down the corridor, my racing mind and temper eased, already reacting to the
stress relief I’d sought all my life.
I need him out.
It wasn’t
fair. I was supposed to seduce him and make him care for me—not the other way around. I wasn’t supposed to fall for my own
games.
Lust was
as dangerous as love. Only it was worse because it had the power to make even
the worst ideas seem plausible—and even recommended—when a sexual reward was
given.
The
moment Jethro gave in and kissed me, I’d betrayed more than just myself. I’d
betrayed my entire family line and all the Weaver women who’d died before me.
I had
feelings for him.
A
dangerous softness toward my would-be-killer.
It has to end.
I had to
find a way to seduce him…to make him love me, all while I kept my heart frigid
and locked away in an ice fortress.
I laughed
under my breath. You sound just like him.
I wanted to turn into the female equivalent of his glacial shell.
Only, ice
wasn’t impervious. Ice melted and succumbed to fire.
I’d
proven that over the past month.
The house
breathed around me with gentle heartbeats only ancient dwellings could have.
Spirits of past generations lived in its walls, revenants danced in the
drapery, and figments of long forgotten lovers floated through the tapestries.
A
grandfather clock tick-tocked as I jogged past, showing the time at six thirty
a.m.
After
being privy to the business meetings with Kes and the Black Diamonds, I knew
the men never got up this early. They worked late, dealing with shipments and
the transportation of stones worth more than any dress I could sew. Darkness
was their asset, the sun their foe.
At least
I could run and be back before anyone tried to stop me.
I didn’t
want them to draw the wrong conclusion that I was trying to escape again. I
blinked as I ran head first into a horrendous conclusion.
Even if you found the boundary this morning, you
wouldn’t leave.
My heart
thumped harder at the tangled web I lived.
Freedom
was something I wanted more than anything. But even if I escaped the Hawks, I
would only run back into the trap of pity and vertigo. I wanted more than that.
I deserved more than that.
If I
found the estate edge, I wouldn’t disappear. I couldn’t.
My
captivity wasn’t just about me anymore. It was about the future. It was about
Jethro.
Admit it…
It was
about living.
The
passion, the intensity, the blazing ferocity of existing with enemies and
plotting beneath their noses was a much worthier cause than sitting at home
sewing for the masses.
This was
about me. Me standing up for myself, and for a future I wanted, not a future
already planned for me.
This was
about so many twisted things.
I
wrenched open the French doors at the end of the corridor and stumbled into the
foggy dawn. Fresh air welcomed me and I found a reprieve from my scrambled
thoughts.
I can’t forget my ultimate plan.
No matter
how Jethro endeared himself to me—giving me glimpses of someone barely coping
inside his wintry armor—I wasn’t going to forget my goal.
Freedom.
Not just
for myself, but for the rest of my legacy. My children and their children and
their children’s children would never have to go through this. I intended to be
the last Weaver stolen.
It’s time for a new debt—one that owes us life, not
death.
Sucking
in lungfuls of crisp air, I steeled myself in what I had to do. In order to
win, I had to guard my soul. I had to play along with Jethro’s mind games and
hope to God I won first.
A cool
breeze whistled through the trees, sounding like haunted laments. I shivered,
wishing I’d brought a jacket.
You’ll be sweating in ten minutes. Ignore it.
Gritting
my teeth against the cold, I bent over and stretched my quads. The tug and slow
release of muscles was heaven after the stress of the past few days.
My body
hummed with the knowledge it was about to run.
And run.
And run.
For fun
this time, not for survival.
Bouncing
on the spot, I rolled my shoulders, eyeing up the sweeping lawn before me. If I
went right, I’d loop around the stables. If I went left, I’d cut through the
sprawling rose garden and orchards.
Go straight.
Down the
meandering path that disappeared over the horizon.
I
switched from bouncing to jogging.
“And just
where do you think you’re going?” a cool voice whispered through the silver
fog.
I
wrenched to a stop, peering behind me.
No one.
“I
thought you’d realised running wasn’t a viable option, Ms. Weaver.”
His icy
voice sent a strange mixture of hot and cold desire down my spine. Jethro
morphed into being, seeming to solidify from the mist like a terrible
poltergeist. He leaned against one of the pillars holding up the portico,
crossing his arms.
My heart
collapsed, unable to untangle the maze of hypocrisy between us. My skin begged
for his touch. My lips tingled for his. Every inch of me craved what he could deliver.
Heat.
Passion. An eruption that I felt in every cell.
But none
of that was real.
And I
refused to believe in trickery any longer.
Mirroring
his body language, I crossed my arms. “I realise escaping isn’t a viable option. But I’m not escaping. I’m running.
Running is my only option to escape
the mess you’ve made.”
His jaw
clenched. “The mess I’ve made?”
“Yes.” I
took a step backward as he advanced. “You’re messing me up, and I’m done
playing whatever it is that you’re doing.” I sucked in courage and embraced
honesty. It seemed to work around him, and I needed him to see how serious I
was. How hurt I was with his deception.
He’s Kite.
Bastard.
Baring my
teeth, I said, “It seems I have a weakness for you, but I changed my mind. I
don’t—”
A low
growl escaped him. “A weakness? You call what happened between us a fucking
weakness?”
My
breathing ratcheted as if I’d already run two miles. “The worst kind of
weakness.”
He
smiled, but no mirth entered his gaze. If anything, his golden eyes were
luminous with anger. “You’re the one who started it…Nila.”
I gasped
at the delicious decadence of my name on his lips. The sound echoed in his
mouth, shooting straight to my core.
Shit.
Jethro
advanced again, his body trembling with barely veiled lust. “You’re the one who created this
problem.” His hand came up, fingers slinking through my tied-up hair,
tightening around the back of my skull. “I can’t hear the name Weaver without
getting fucking hard. I can’t even think of you without boiling with need.”
His nose
brushed against mine, his lips so damn close to stealing all my scrambled plans
and sending me headfirst into a life of debauchery.
“You
should never have said those two words, Ms. Weaver. I told you. We’re both
fucked now.”
My mind
was blank, every synapse focusing on his fingers in my hair and his mouth only
millimetres from mine. “What two words?”
He
chuckled. The sound was self-deprecating and almost morbid with dark intensity.
“Kiss me.”
I
shivered in his hold. “You’re reminding me of what started this mess, or you’re
asking me to kiss you?”
Ask me. And I will. God, how I will.
I’d kiss
him until I’d stripped him of his arctic armor and destroyed it, I’d lick him
until I tasted his truth, and I’d bite him until I’d eaten every morsel of his
soul.
I’d do
all that so he had nowhere left to hide.
We stood
wrapped in foggy silence. The drawn out anticipation of a kiss turned my legs
to jelly. If he pressed his mouth to mine, I wouldn’t be going for my run. I
would climb his body and impale myself on his cock.
Fakery be
damned.
Kite’s
messages and deceit be damned.
I just
wanted a raw connection—with this man, who made my soul whimper for wrongness.
Jethro’s
tongue slipped between his lips, hypnotising me. Then…he let me go. “No, I’m
not asking you to kiss me. I won’t ever ask anything from you.”
I
flinched as if he’d slapped me. “Why not?”
“Because
I own you. Everything I want will be given, not requested.”
Double shit.
I should
hate him. I should smite him. So, why did his every word seduce me, even while
I knew his morals were chauvinistic and heartless?
Forcing
my body to obey, I shoved the weakness I had for him as far away as possible.
My eyes trailed down his front. He wore tan jodhpurs, black riding boots, and a
tweed jacket. The bulge between his legs looked heavy and far too dangerous to
be legal.
“You’ve
been riding.”
A gentle
gust of early morning air blew his scent directly into my nose. I inhaled,
soaking my lungs in hay, horse, and all things Jethro.
He
nodded, crossing his arms once again. “You run. I ride. Seems we have something
else in common.”
Something other than being forced into this debt and
finding each other irresistible, you mean?
“Oh,
what’s that?”
Jethro
stepped closer, seeming to bring shadows into the smoky light of dawn. “We both
need time alone to hide from the things that chase us.” He stiffened, his eyes
churning with things he refused to voice. A five o’ clock shadow decorated his
strong jaw, his lips parted while his gaze was pure brimstone.
Swiftly, he
cupped my cheek.
Oh, God.
Electricity
instantly sparked beneath his fingertips.
Would I
always suffer the rhapsody of his touch?
My skin
smouldered; pinpricks of light, of fire, of hell, all burnished beneath his
hold. I swayed, pressing my face harder into his palm.
He sucked
in a breath, his fingers digging harder against my cheekbone.
The
chemistry and need to devour each other thickened with every heartbeat.
One beat.
Two beat.
Three.
We stood
there, frozen on the stoop of Hawksridge Hall just waiting for the other to
move. The moment we did, our clothes would disintegrate and I would willingly
let him drag me into a bush and fuck me.
Lust and
tension swirled.
I had so
many questions and doubts; so many reasons to hate and fear him. But when he
touched me…poof.
I no
longer remembered, nor cared.
We swayed
closer, drawn against our will to close the aching distance.
I
couldn’t breathe.
Kiss me. Please, kiss me.
The
moment stretched until it hummed with overwhelming possibilities.
Then, it
snapped.
Loudly.
Painfully.
Shattering
around our feet.
“You’re
too fucking dangerous,” Jethro muttered, removing his touch and stepping away.
Dragging his hand through his hair, he commanded, “Wait here. Don’t go
anywhere.” His hands went to his jacket buttons, undoing them with nimble
fingers.
I
blinked, struggling to shed myself of heavy need and focus on the true reason
why I stood barely dressed in the freezing morning. “I’m not escaping. I’ll be
back in forty minutes or so.”
He shook
his head, slipping out of his tweed and revealing a black long-sleeved jumper.
My mouth
went dry. Even in clothing, I could make out every ridge of muscle in his
stomach, every ripple of energy as he breathed in and out. He was designed
straight from my fantasies, and I hated him for being so splendid.
My core
clenched, sending flutters of wetness between my legs.
I hadn’t
seen him in two days, yet I’d panted after him as if he’d been missing my
entire life.
If he
suspected I knew that he was Kite, he hadn’t let on. After Kes had told me the
truth, I’d waited for Jethro to barge into my room and swear me to secrecy.
But he
hadn’t.
He didn’t
look at me any differently; he gave no outward sign that his lies had begun to
unravel. As much as he confounded and frustrated me, I couldn’t help admiring
his perfection at hiding.
I wanted
to be like him. I wanted to protect my secrets so damn well that whatever I did
next would come as a surprise.
I wanted
to rule him.
“I’m
coming with you. Don’t leave.” He disappeared into the house, leaving me
abandoned and covered in chills from both the morning air and his departure.
Jogging
on the spot, I deliberated ignoring him and leaving.
Just go.
What was
the worst that could happen? He’d have to chase me again. My tummy coiled at
the thought. I liked that idea way too much. I liked the thought of what would
happen after he found me.
The power
I’d felt giving him that blowjob. The awe and attraction that’d glowed in his
eyes.
I want that again.
Screw
waiting like a good little captive.
Make him hunt.
And then
I would make him explode.
I bolted.
Series
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Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include
writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with
your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up
ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex... her books have sex.
She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who
puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends.
Her Dark Erotica books include:
Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)
Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)
Her Grey Romance books include:
Destroyed
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