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The Lure of the Wolf

July 2007 From Pocket Books
(Book 2 of the Shadowmen Series)

Half wolf, half man, Aragon has abandoned his brethren to repay a debt of honor; he is sworn to kill a rogue Blood Hunter, though exacting revenge will doom him to a ghostly existence trapped between two worlds. But when a mortal woman unexpectedly calls him to her side, the heat of her soft flesh arouses a hunger in him that threatens to complicate his mission.

Dr. Annette Batista, a dedicated healer, is determined to find her missing sister. With the amulet found at the site of her sister's disappearance, she unwittingly summons a shadowy warrior. She wonders if she can trust this powerful male named Aragon, who claims he can vanquish her sister's captor -- the very monster he's vowed to destroy. Or is Annette blinded by her shocking passion for the most alluring, mysterious man she's ever seen?

Watch the book video for The Lure of the Wolf.

"Different? Unusual?” Aragon asked softly, staring at Annette intently, as if seeing her for the first time. The harshness of his features eased within moments as a sensual light warmed his gaze.

“You are so soft,” he said. “Your touch and your skin.” He slid his thumb down her throat to her collar bone and traced its ridge, making her heart pound and her body heat. She released his wrist and let her hand fall to her side, pressing her palm to the cool wall.

“I’ve never known things such as this fiery interest you ignite inside of me,” he said, brow drawing together. He didn’t look exactly pleased with his attraction. She could have stopped his exploration, but her senses screamed too loudly for her to do anything but feel. How long had it been since she’d let herself feel anything but determination and guilt?

He leaned in closer and breathed deeply, making her impossibly even more aware of him. “What scent do you cover yourself in?”

“Gardenia,” she whispered, catching her breath as his fingertips splayed across the rise of her breasts, just above the edge of her towel. She arched to his touch before she could think, causing the tucked end of her towel to loosen and dip lower across her breasts barely covering her nipples. Seemingly awed by the feel, he followed the towel’s edge down, caressing the cresting curve of her breasts as his fingers pressed gently into her skin.

The erotically slow exploration had her trapped in a wave of edgy expectation. Her heart hammered with desire and fear, of him, of who and what he was, and of herself. She fisted the bottom hem of the towel in her hand, trying to keep from running her fingers in the silk of his hair or along the hard contours of his chest…and below. The six-pack tapering down to his impressive sex and thighs needed to come with a lethal warning label.

She’d always lived her life under such rigid control, yet here she was, a breath away from exploding. Whether it was the unexpectedness of the situation or the man himself, she didn’t know. She only knew she’d never been this sexually excited before in her life.

He could have easily jerked the towel down further, but he didn’t. Instead, he slid his hand up to finger a long curl that had loosened itself from her customary tight knot. He rubbed it between his fingers, slowly, savoring the feel and driving her need even higher because she wanted that sensual, luring touch…oh just where she burned. If he’d just…a vision of her dropping the towel and backing him to the wall to drive him past this lazy control rushed through her mind.

No. You have no idea what you’re getting into, or who or what he is. This isn’t like you, Annette! You’re disciplined, logical,’re--

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