When Tristan Riley drags Lillian Maddox onto the dance floor at Teplo, he intends only to protect his cover… at least that's what he tells himself. But the lovely Lillian would tempt a saint, and Tristan is far from a gentleman. Beneath the bright lights of the Vetrov family's dangerous club, the weary DEA agent finds himself captivated by the ballerina, coaxing them both into a reckless, erotic encounter.
But Tristan isn't prepared for the intense connection between him and Lillian, or for the fallout of their tryst. In a matter of days, their lives careen wildly off course, catapulting them both into a deadly game of hide and seek with the Vetrov family and one of Mexico's deadliest drug cartels.
Trying to keep his hands to himself while working alongside Lillian to stop Anton Vetrov's deadly new drug proves almost impossible for Tristan, but what choice does he have when being with her might get her killed? He should know: his entire family was murdered by people just like Anton.
When the stakes are raised and innocent lives are lost, will Tristan be able to let go of the guilt, or will he destroy his chance at happiness with Lillian before it ever truly begins?
A pair of
large hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her upright. She slammed into a
hard chest and clung, wrapping her arms around the man's waist without thought.
Her face rubbed across the soft fabric of his shirt. A familiar scent, like
sage and pine needles, tickled her nose beneath the aroma of hot food wafting
through the restaurant. She knew that smell…loved it. But couldn't place it.
"Thank
you," she said when her heart slowed its wild hammering. Sliding her hands
along her rescuer's sides, she tried to shift her weight from him back onto her
feet. His muscles flexed beneath her palms, rippling as if in response to the
path her hands took.
"If
you don't stop touching me like that, I'm going to fuck you right here,
Lillian," a familiar voice rasped in her ear.
She gasped,
her head shooting upward.
Tristan's
bright blue gaze met hers, his teeth gritted as if in pain.
"Tristan?"
she half mouthed, half squeaked.
"Hello,
sweetheart."
Lillian
stared at him, dazed. In the full light of the restaurant, he looked even
better than he had beneath the strange lights of Teplo. His jaw was sharp beneath the stubble, his lips full and
kissable. Long lashes framed those beautiful eyes…eyes full of wicked desire.
His dark hair was riotous, as if he'd run his hands through it. He seemed a lot
bigger, too. Not bulky, but made of lean, contoured muscle. The blue t-shirt he
wore wasn't tight, but every time he took a breath, the fabric stretched,
hinting at the fit body beneath. Even in jeans and that t-shirt, he was
gorgeous.
Memories of
the night before hit Lillian like a fist.
Tristan’s hard body pressed against her…
His voice in her ear and his hand beneath her
skirt…
She licked
her lips, wetting them.
Her hands
were still pressed against his stomach, her fingers running along the ridges of
his abdominals.
He glanced
down, following the play of her fingers over his muscles. "You're killing
me, beautiful," he groaned, setting her away from him with obvious
reluctance.
Lillian
jerked backward, her face flaming, and nearly lost her balance again. She
righted herself as quick as she could, far too aware of the man in front of her
and the way her heart threatened to beat out of her chest.
Quiet
chatter and the clink of silverware on glass resumed all around them.
"You
okay?" he asked, his eyes narrowing on her face as if he'd just noticed
the tears drying on her lashes. He reached out as if to touch her, and then
dropped his hand back to his side.
Lillian
remembered her tears at the same time. Mortification fired through her.
"Fine,"
she mumbled, stepping around him. "Thanks for saving me." She all but
fled toward the bathroom, not looking back. Once inside, she slammed the door
closed, and took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart.
Tristan was
here. In the same damn restaurant.
What were
the chances?
She limped
toward the sink. Her pale face stared back at her from the mirror hanging above
the vanity, looking anything but calm and composed. She looked, well, she
looked wild. Tears still clung to her lashes. Faint shadows marred the skin
beneath her wide, watery eyes. Fine strands of her dark hair had come loose
from the ponytail she'd tossed it into, and her cheeks were flushed.
She looked
just like she had when she'd stumbled home from Teplo the night before.
"Shit,"
she mumbled, turning the faucet on full blast.
The door
creaked open behind her.
Lillian
squeezed her eyes closed when Tristan appeared in the mirror, a concerned frown
hovering on his full lips. But not looking at him didn't make him go away. His
footfalls echoed in the small bathroom as he moved toward her. Heat crackled
along her spine, loosening something inside of her: that wild, wanton woman
he'd woken last night.
"Lillian."
His velvety voice was level and intoxicating at once.
She opened
her eyes, gripping the sink with both hands as he stepped up behind her, so
close his hips touched her bottom, trapping her between his hard body and the
sink. His gaze locked on hers in the mirror, blue fire mingling with concern. Heat
wound through her as his body brushed against hers.
Slowly, oh
so slowly, she turned toward him. "Hi," she whispered, tilting her
face back to look up at him.
He reached
out, ran a single fingertip down her cheek. "You were crying."
"No, I–"
She broke off and licked her lips when his frown deepened. "It's been a
rough day."
He stared
at her for a long moment, and then nodded once, his fingertip still traveling,
inch by inch, down the side of her face and onto her neck. She tilted her head,
unable to stay still when her stomach fluttered and her legs trembled, urging
her to melt into him.
Flashes
from the night before played through her mind…his hands roaming her body in the
eerie, unreal light pulsing around them. The soft hitch of his breath. The feel
of his lips moving over hers.
Despite
everything she'd told herself this morning, she still wanted him. Desperately.
"I
want to kiss you," he murmured, cupping her neck in his hand.
"Please?"
she pleaded before she could stop herself or think her way out of taking what
she wanted from him.
Tristan
didn't wait for her to change her mind. He dipped his head, bringing his mouth
to hers.
A soft sigh
tumbled from her lips.
He guided
her closer with the pressure of his hand on her neck, pulling her body into his
until they were pressed together in one long line. His lips whispered against
hers until she parted them and let him in.
She curled
a fist into his shirt.
He lapped
at her mouth as warmth became heat, fire…liquid flame rushing through her in an
explosive rush. Their tongues came together in their own choreographed dance
for long minutes as they melted into one another, lost to everything but the
way they moved together.
His breath
quickened.
Her heart
pounded.
Reality
slipped away from her.
He didn't
stop kissing her, instead pulling her closer, closer, until not even air moved
between them. The heat of his body called to her, the urgency of his kisses
making her tremble.
"Goddamn,
beautiful," he groaned into her mouth, running his hands all over her. His
confident touch made her moan and shudder in his arms. "I want you."
That sexy,
guttural confession pulled her up short. She froze, memory intruding into that
star-filled place every brush of his hands against her body threatened to take
her.
