Rule's Seduction
When Max Villarreal finds out about the existence of Erin Rule, he realizes she could be the means for the perfect retaliation against the Rule Corporation. When he meets her for the first time, he immediately wants her for himself. Yes, revenge and relief. Who knew it would be as easy as taking candy from a baby?
Excerpt:
Preparing to fix what she'd screwed up, Erin opened the bathroom door of the private jet and took a few steps forward with the sheet still wrapped around her like a sarong. She gasped and stopped in her tracks when she came face to face with . . . her husband?
She sucked in a breath as her feet came to a stumbling halt. As she felt color flush her cheeks, she noticed that he didn't smile but only raised a single, mocking eyebrow. His gaze pierced hers, sending her stomach to her feet in a mess of stupid feminine weakness. Then his eyes trailed down her body, stopping at her breasts and thighs, before sweeping down to her bare ankles and feet before slowly moving back up again.
Erin's heart rate kicked up to a vicious degree, and as Max took one step forward, for the life of her she couldn't stop herself from taking one step back.
He obviously noticed and thankfully, he immediately stopped. His lips twisted diabolically as he drawled slowly, "You look beautiful, sweetness."
Her pulse accelerated alarmingly with both the compliment and the endearment. Oh, yeah. It was damn well obvious why she'd waltzed into that freaking wedding chapel with him. He prowled another step closer and then another. He came so close that she was forced to lift her face to maintain eye contact. When she did, he put a single finger under her chin and lifted it further, jarring her nerves alarmingly. "You are fucking gorgeous--and undoubtedly the best coup I've pulled off in my lifetime."
As he subtly caressed her chin, she swallowed and began to speak, but was cut off when he lowered his head and took her mouth under his--as if he had every right. Against her will, a firestorm of lights went off in her brain. Oh, God, yes, she remembered his kiss. She remembered his scent . . . she remembered his taste.
She remembered exactly why she'd agreed to what he'd wanted.
Desperately clutching the sheet to her chest with one hand, she was incapable of stopping her free arm from reaching up and twining its way around his neck. When she made the move, his kiss rapidly changed to full blown possession. It hit her immediately--here was yet another difference in his manner. His kisses before had been romantic, sexy, deliciously wanton. This kiss was different. It was possessive, intractable, dominant. As he held her chin, he began kissing her with fast, hard strokes that left her questioning her sanity and fighting for oxygen. When she pulled her lips from his, he growled a low warning noise and dropped his mouth to her chest, where he unerringly found her softness.
She released her tentative hold on the sheet to push against his shoulder. "Max."
Another low rumble came from his chest as he ignored her struggles and began dry humping her into the wall. His hips pressed into her; his teeth scraped over her skin as if he couldn't get enough.
Desperate now to stop what he very obviously wasn't going to stop, Erin began pushing harder. "Max--stop."
His muscles tightened--she felt it happen. His touch seemed to go from compelling to territorial as his pecs hardened. He lifted his mouth from her chest and slowly, he stood up--but he didn't release her. The look emblazoned on his face sent a thrill down her spine--it also scared the holy bejesus out of her. The expression he displayed was ownership, pure and simple. His brown eyes dared her to challenge him--as if he'd stamp out any struggle for control before she even attempted to test her boundaries. There was nothing displayed on his features that hinted at a lack of purpose--the wedding ceremony had been calculated--not something he'd done on a lark, she could see that for sure.
Why had he done the things he'd done? And then the truth struck like a lightning bolt. None of this had anything to do with her, even though there was undoubtedly sexual chemistry between them. Oh, no. The fact that she was on a plane? Virtually being kidnapped? It wasn't about her--it was about them. "Your actions haven't been about me, have they? This is about my brothers and their corporation."
A merciless look flashed in his eyes and he moved just that much closer. He seemed to stand almost indolently, but the dangerous sizzle that poured from his eyes negated the façade of polished urbanity. There was no question--in that moment, he was uncultured, undomesticated, untamed. His words when he spoke were succinct--irrefutable as they blistered around her with unyielding authority. "Two days ago this was about your brothers. Today--and for the rest of your life--it will be about you."
1122624015
Excerpt:
Preparing to fix what she'd screwed up, Erin opened the bathroom door of the private jet and took a few steps forward with the sheet still wrapped around her like a sarong. She gasped and stopped in her tracks when she came face to face with . . . her husband?
She sucked in a breath as her feet came to a stumbling halt. As she felt color flush her cheeks, she noticed that he didn't smile but only raised a single, mocking eyebrow. His gaze pierced hers, sending her stomach to her feet in a mess of stupid feminine weakness. Then his eyes trailed down her body, stopping at her breasts and thighs, before sweeping down to her bare ankles and feet before slowly moving back up again.
Erin's heart rate kicked up to a vicious degree, and as Max took one step forward, for the life of her she couldn't stop herself from taking one step back.
He obviously noticed and thankfully, he immediately stopped. His lips twisted diabolically as he drawled slowly, "You look beautiful, sweetness."
Her pulse accelerated alarmingly with both the compliment and the endearment. Oh, yeah. It was damn well obvious why she'd waltzed into that freaking wedding chapel with him. He prowled another step closer and then another. He came so close that she was forced to lift her face to maintain eye contact. When she did, he put a single finger under her chin and lifted it further, jarring her nerves alarmingly. "You are fucking gorgeous--and undoubtedly the best coup I've pulled off in my lifetime."
As he subtly caressed her chin, she swallowed and began to speak, but was cut off when he lowered his head and took her mouth under his--as if he had every right. Against her will, a firestorm of lights went off in her brain. Oh, God, yes, she remembered his kiss. She remembered his scent . . . she remembered his taste.
She remembered exactly why she'd agreed to what he'd wanted.
Desperately clutching the sheet to her chest with one hand, she was incapable of stopping her free arm from reaching up and twining its way around his neck. When she made the move, his kiss rapidly changed to full blown possession. It hit her immediately--here was yet another difference in his manner. His kisses before had been romantic, sexy, deliciously wanton. This kiss was different. It was possessive, intractable, dominant. As he held her chin, he began kissing her with fast, hard strokes that left her questioning her sanity and fighting for oxygen. When she pulled her lips from his, he growled a low warning noise and dropped his mouth to her chest, where he unerringly found her softness.
She released her tentative hold on the sheet to push against his shoulder. "Max."
Another low rumble came from his chest as he ignored her struggles and began dry humping her into the wall. His hips pressed into her; his teeth scraped over her skin as if he couldn't get enough.
Desperate now to stop what he very obviously wasn't going to stop, Erin began pushing harder. "Max--stop."
His muscles tightened--she felt it happen. His touch seemed to go from compelling to territorial as his pecs hardened. He lifted his mouth from her chest and slowly, he stood up--but he didn't release her. The look emblazoned on his face sent a thrill down her spine--it also scared the holy bejesus out of her. The expression he displayed was ownership, pure and simple. His brown eyes dared her to challenge him--as if he'd stamp out any struggle for control before she even attempted to test her boundaries. There was nothing displayed on his features that hinted at a lack of purpose--the wedding ceremony had been calculated--not something he'd done on a lark, she could see that for sure.
Why had he done the things he'd done? And then the truth struck like a lightning bolt. None of this had anything to do with her, even though there was undoubtedly sexual chemistry between them. Oh, no. The fact that she was on a plane? Virtually being kidnapped? It wasn't about her--it was about them. "Your actions haven't been about me, have they? This is about my brothers and their corporation."
A merciless look flashed in his eyes and he moved just that much closer. He seemed to stand almost indolently, but the dangerous sizzle that poured from his eyes negated the façade of polished urbanity. There was no question--in that moment, he was uncultured, undomesticated, untamed. His words when he spoke were succinct--irrefutable as they blistered around her with unyielding authority. "Two days ago this was about your brothers. Today--and for the rest of your life--it will be about you."
Rule's Seduction
When Max Villarreal finds out about the existence of Erin Rule, he realizes she could be the means for the perfect retaliation against the Rule Corporation. When he meets her for the first time, he immediately wants her for himself. Yes, revenge and relief. Who knew it would be as easy as taking candy from a baby?
Excerpt:
Preparing to fix what she'd screwed up, Erin opened the bathroom door of the private jet and took a few steps forward with the sheet still wrapped around her like a sarong. She gasped and stopped in her tracks when she came face to face with . . . her husband?
She sucked in a breath as her feet came to a stumbling halt. As she felt color flush her cheeks, she noticed that he didn't smile but only raised a single, mocking eyebrow. His gaze pierced hers, sending her stomach to her feet in a mess of stupid feminine weakness. Then his eyes trailed down her body, stopping at her breasts and thighs, before sweeping down to her bare ankles and feet before slowly moving back up again.
Erin's heart rate kicked up to a vicious degree, and as Max took one step forward, for the life of her she couldn't stop herself from taking one step back.
He obviously noticed and thankfully, he immediately stopped. His lips twisted diabolically as he drawled slowly, "You look beautiful, sweetness."
Her pulse accelerated alarmingly with both the compliment and the endearment. Oh, yeah. It was damn well obvious why she'd waltzed into that freaking wedding chapel with him. He prowled another step closer and then another. He came so close that she was forced to lift her face to maintain eye contact. When she did, he put a single finger under her chin and lifted it further, jarring her nerves alarmingly. "You are fucking gorgeous--and undoubtedly the best coup I've pulled off in my lifetime."
As he subtly caressed her chin, she swallowed and began to speak, but was cut off when he lowered his head and took her mouth under his--as if he had every right. Against her will, a firestorm of lights went off in her brain. Oh, God, yes, she remembered his kiss. She remembered his scent . . . she remembered his taste.
She remembered exactly why she'd agreed to what he'd wanted.
Desperately clutching the sheet to her chest with one hand, she was incapable of stopping her free arm from reaching up and twining its way around his neck. When she made the move, his kiss rapidly changed to full blown possession. It hit her immediately--here was yet another difference in his manner. His kisses before had been romantic, sexy, deliciously wanton. This kiss was different. It was possessive, intractable, dominant. As he held her chin, he began kissing her with fast, hard strokes that left her questioning her sanity and fighting for oxygen. When she pulled her lips from his, he growled a low warning noise and dropped his mouth to her chest, where he unerringly found her softness.
She released her tentative hold on the sheet to push against his shoulder. "Max."
Another low rumble came from his chest as he ignored her struggles and began dry humping her into the wall. His hips pressed into her; his teeth scraped over her skin as if he couldn't get enough.
Desperate now to stop what he very obviously wasn't going to stop, Erin began pushing harder. "Max--stop."
His muscles tightened--she felt it happen. His touch seemed to go from compelling to territorial as his pecs hardened. He lifted his mouth from her chest and slowly, he stood up--but he didn't release her. The look emblazoned on his face sent a thrill down her spine--it also scared the holy bejesus out of her. The expression he displayed was ownership, pure and simple. His brown eyes dared her to challenge him--as if he'd stamp out any struggle for control before she even attempted to test her boundaries. There was nothing displayed on his features that hinted at a lack of purpose--the wedding ceremony had been calculated--not something he'd done on a lark, she could see that for sure.
Why had he done the things he'd done? And then the truth struck like a lightning bolt. None of this had anything to do with her, even though there was undoubtedly sexual chemistry between them. Oh, no. The fact that she was on a plane? Virtually being kidnapped? It wasn't about her--it was about them. "Your actions haven't been about me, have they? This is about my brothers and their corporation."
A merciless look flashed in his eyes and he moved just that much closer. He seemed to stand almost indolently, but the dangerous sizzle that poured from his eyes negated the façade of polished urbanity. There was no question--in that moment, he was uncultured, undomesticated, untamed. His words when he spoke were succinct--irrefutable as they blistered around her with unyielding authority. "Two days ago this was about your brothers. Today--and for the rest of your life--it will be about you."
Excerpt:
Preparing to fix what she'd screwed up, Erin opened the bathroom door of the private jet and took a few steps forward with the sheet still wrapped around her like a sarong. She gasped and stopped in her tracks when she came face to face with . . . her husband?
She sucked in a breath as her feet came to a stumbling halt. As she felt color flush her cheeks, she noticed that he didn't smile but only raised a single, mocking eyebrow. His gaze pierced hers, sending her stomach to her feet in a mess of stupid feminine weakness. Then his eyes trailed down her body, stopping at her breasts and thighs, before sweeping down to her bare ankles and feet before slowly moving back up again.
Erin's heart rate kicked up to a vicious degree, and as Max took one step forward, for the life of her she couldn't stop herself from taking one step back.
He obviously noticed and thankfully, he immediately stopped. His lips twisted diabolically as he drawled slowly, "You look beautiful, sweetness."
Her pulse accelerated alarmingly with both the compliment and the endearment. Oh, yeah. It was damn well obvious why she'd waltzed into that freaking wedding chapel with him. He prowled another step closer and then another. He came so close that she was forced to lift her face to maintain eye contact. When she did, he put a single finger under her chin and lifted it further, jarring her nerves alarmingly. "You are fucking gorgeous--and undoubtedly the best coup I've pulled off in my lifetime."
As he subtly caressed her chin, she swallowed and began to speak, but was cut off when he lowered his head and took her mouth under his--as if he had every right. Against her will, a firestorm of lights went off in her brain. Oh, God, yes, she remembered his kiss. She remembered his scent . . . she remembered his taste.
She remembered exactly why she'd agreed to what he'd wanted.
Desperately clutching the sheet to her chest with one hand, she was incapable of stopping her free arm from reaching up and twining its way around his neck. When she made the move, his kiss rapidly changed to full blown possession. It hit her immediately--here was yet another difference in his manner. His kisses before had been romantic, sexy, deliciously wanton. This kiss was different. It was possessive, intractable, dominant. As he held her chin, he began kissing her with fast, hard strokes that left her questioning her sanity and fighting for oxygen. When she pulled her lips from his, he growled a low warning noise and dropped his mouth to her chest, where he unerringly found her softness.
She released her tentative hold on the sheet to push against his shoulder. "Max."
Another low rumble came from his chest as he ignored her struggles and began dry humping her into the wall. His hips pressed into her; his teeth scraped over her skin as if he couldn't get enough.
Desperate now to stop what he very obviously wasn't going to stop, Erin began pushing harder. "Max--stop."
His muscles tightened--she felt it happen. His touch seemed to go from compelling to territorial as his pecs hardened. He lifted his mouth from her chest and slowly, he stood up--but he didn't release her. The look emblazoned on his face sent a thrill down her spine--it also scared the holy bejesus out of her. The expression he displayed was ownership, pure and simple. His brown eyes dared her to challenge him--as if he'd stamp out any struggle for control before she even attempted to test her boundaries. There was nothing displayed on his features that hinted at a lack of purpose--the wedding ceremony had been calculated--not something he'd done on a lark, she could see that for sure.
Why had he done the things he'd done? And then the truth struck like a lightning bolt. None of this had anything to do with her, even though there was undoubtedly sexual chemistry between them. Oh, no. The fact that she was on a plane? Virtually being kidnapped? It wasn't about her--it was about them. "Your actions haven't been about me, have they? This is about my brothers and their corporation."
A merciless look flashed in his eyes and he moved just that much closer. He seemed to stand almost indolently, but the dangerous sizzle that poured from his eyes negated the façade of polished urbanity. There was no question--in that moment, he was uncultured, undomesticated, untamed. His words when he spoke were succinct--irrefutable as they blistered around her with unyielding authority. "Two days ago this was about your brothers. Today--and for the rest of your life--it will be about you."
3.99
In Stock
5
1
Rule's Seduction
Rule's Seduction
eBook
$3.99
Related collections and offers
3.99
In Stock
Product Details
| BN ID: | 2940151152129 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Lynda Chance Books |
| Publication date: | 09/03/2015 |
| Series: | The House of Rule , #4 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Sales rank: | 112,920 |
| File size: | 154 KB |
About the Author
From the B&N Reads Blog
Customer Reviews
Explore More Items
