* The second novel in the USA Today
By Laurelin Paige
“A sordid love triangle for readers who like it rough.” – Kirkus Reviews
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LAST KISS (St. Martin’s Griffin; June 14,2016)
is the follow-up that will tantalize and satisfy readers.
Emily Wayborn has made a decision. She might not fully trust handsome and deadly Reeve Sallis, but he
is the one person that gives her what she needs. With Reeve she can finally be herself. Submitting to
him is the only thing keeping her grounded as the rest of her life falls apart. But the hotelier is a master
at keeping secrets and as she continues her quest for answers, someone is making sure she doesn’t find them.
Time is running out and she is questioning everything she thought she knew about friendship and love.
She must now make an impossible choice that will determine if she will survive with her heart...or her
With the start of the duology praised as “explosive” (Kirkus Reviews) and “carnal, erotic and emotionally
raw” (RT Book Reviews), the second takes the dangerous romance to all new heights.
“Oh, hi! I didn’t see you there.” I sounded flustered and on edge.
“Sorry to have surprised you.” The man’s head tipped toward
me. “Emily, right?” he asked, as he exhaled a puff of smoke.
I squinted at him, trying to place him, but I couldn’t. In fact, I
was certain I hadn’t seen him before. He had to be one of the ranch
guests, which didn’t explain how he knew me. “That’s right,” I said
tentatively. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
He tilted his head as he took another slow draw from his cigarette. “Nope. We haven’t.” Even in the dark, I didn’t miss the hungry way his eyes groped my frame.
He took a step toward me, and I readied myself to run. Just then,
the front door slammed open. I looked up to the porch to see a
couple of Reeve’s men leaving the house. When I turned back, the
man wasn’t there anymore. I glanced around and caught sight of
him circling around behind the building.
A man didn’t run off that easily if he hadn’t had ill intent.
I shivered. I wondered if all of the guests were that creepy. No
wonder Reeve was wary of them. Suddenly, I wanted to run and
tell him about the encounter.
Then, at the top of the stairs, I noticed his door was shut, which
meant he was in there. But what if he wasn’t alone? What if the conversation with Amber at dinner had led them to his bedroom?
Before I let myself get worked up, I looked to Amber’s door. It
was shut too. It was the first time I’d seen it closed since her arrival,
and my mind jumped to a hundred different possible conclusions.
Maybe she was exercising her new babysitter- free status. Maybe she
was puking again in the bathroom and wanted privacy. Or she was
making out with one of the ranchers. Or crying over what ever
Reeve had said to her after I’d left them.
Or she wasn’t in there at all.
I could easily knock on her door to find out, but I wasn’t sure I
could face her if she answered, and I was absolutely sure I couldn’t
take it if she didn’t.
Hoping I would be better equipped to handle the situation after
a good night’s sleep, I retreated to my own room with a sigh of resignation.
Though it was late enough to go to bed, my emotions were too
frazzled for sleep. And I was cold. My evening walk had set a chill
in my bones that lingered even in the warm house. While I wished
it was Reeve warming me up, a hot shower would be just as effective at raising my body temperature and would also calm my nerves.
I stripped, tossing my clothes onto the chair in the corner of my
room, then went to start the shower. I turned the water on without
getting in, sticking my hand under the stream until it was hot
enough. Then I crossed to the linen closet at the other end of the
bathroom and picked out a couple of towels. When I shut the door,
I turned back toward the shower and nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Reeve!” I patted my breastbone, trying to calm the thudding
in my chest. “Goddammit, you scared the hell out of me.” Between
his sneaky arrival and the lurking cowboy outside, I wouldn’t have
been surprised if I was on my way to a heart attack.
His lip curled up with amusement.
I scowled. “I’m glad you think sending me to an early grave is
funny.” But I wasn’t really irritated by his arrival in the least. I was
glad, and I was certain the accelerated tempo of my heart rate had
as much to do with his appearance at all as it did with the element
He leaned his hip against the vanity and folded his arms across
his chest, a position that highlighted both his broad shoulders and
toned biceps. “You like it when I keep you guessing,” he said dismissively, not an entirely inaccurate statement, though it was a bit
discomforting that he knew it so well.
“And I like you on your toes,” he added, his eyes dark as they
slid the length of my body. I felt them like silk as they caressed over
the slopes of my breasts, down the plane of my stomach, zeroing
in on the landing strip above my pussy. Suddenly I’d warmed up
quite sufficiently, the pool of moisture between my thighs as hot
as the steam gathering in the room.
I met his scrutiny with ogling of my own, biting my lip as my
eyes landed on the large bulge at the front of his pants. He was bare-
foot, and I tried not to wonder if that meant he’d been undressed
once already in the evening. Tried not to won der if it was his first
or second erection of the night.
Bringing the towels in front of me as a much-needed barrier, I
mirrored his crossed arms. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
He shrugged. “You wouldn’t come to my bed so I had to come
It was surprising how easily happiness bubbled in my chest.
Teasingly, I threw his words from the night before back at him.
“This isn’t my bed.”
He was already walking toward me. “It’s close enough.” The
towels fell to the floor as he seized my hips and turned my back to
the counter. His mouth captured mine, greedily stealing my breath
and sense of reason with his lips and tongue.
God, I was hungry for him. I roved my hands over his chest,
wanting to touch all of his body at once, delighting at the hard
muscles that met the underside of my palms. He was solid everywhere. A wall of strength and potency that could so easily overpower me. I was weak in his presence, incapable of anything except
A warning bell sounded in the back of my head, though, urging
me to get my wits together and address . . . something. It was difficult to remember what exactly when his hands were on my breasts,
squeezing and pinching. The bite of pain sent jolts of electricity
through my nervous system, signals that my brain read as pleasure.
Pleasure I couldn’t resist.