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MACK'S WITNESS
By Myla Jackson
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Blurb
Tired of eating sand
and dodging bullets, Marine Captain Mack Magnus is ready to relax and enjoy his
brother’s Dublin wedding. If that involves a few pints in a quaint Irish pub
and getting laid by a pretty Irish lass, all the better.
Instead he winds up
getting ordered around by the cousin of the bride. Fed up with her mouthy
attitude, he kisses her to shut her up. Now he has a new mission: get into the
sexy redhead’s panties.
Busy international
model Deirdre Darcy knows the six-foot-four Marine’s type: hit-and-run sex and
off to the next port. Fall into bed with an arrogant bastard like Mack? No
thanks. When she stumbles upon a couple of Irish gypsies leaving a murder
scene, she must go into hiding or become their next victim.
His protective
instincts kicking into high gear, Mack whisks Deirdre away to a small town
where it’s easier to keep her safe. Except there’s no escape from their growing
attraction—or from the one thing neither of them thought they wanted. Love.
Warning:
Battle-hardened, ready-to-cut-loose Marine teams up with a stunning Irish lass
who thinks she can handle him. You’ll need the luck of the Irish to hang onto
your seat for this sexy, suspenseful race across the Emerald Isle.
Lead
in: Attracted to each other at their first meeting and after dancing at the
bachelor party, Mack and Deirdre are ready to give in to their desires.
Mack
locked gazes with Deirdre, refusing to let his eyes feast on her luscious
curves.
“I thought
you didn't want the complications of a quick fling.”
“I
changed my mind.”
He
snapped his fingers. “Like that?” Mack shook his head, cursing himself for
stalling when
she was offering him her body. But the kisses they’d shared had meant more to
him than
he cared to admit.
“If I take you to bed, will you change your mind again?”
“Not
tonight,” she said.
“After
tonight?”
She
shook her head. “I’m not here for a relationship. You and I could never work
out as a
couple. Not in our two careers. I make no guarantees.”
“Good.
Because I can give no guarantees.”
“Then
we’re good?” She rubbed her naked arms. “Because I’m feeling fairly under dressed here.”
“Come
here,” he commanded.
She
complied, sliding into his arms. “Are you not going to get naked as well?”
Deirdre glanced
up at him, raising her brows.
The
sensual invitation in her tone washed over him, making his pulse quicken and
his groin
tighten. “I was enjoying how soft your skin is and how sexy you look in that
outfit.”
“Why
’tis nothing but a bit of silk and heels.”
“Exactly.”
His hands slid across her naked back and cupped her bottom, lifting her until her
legs wrapped around his waist. Then he turned and pressed her against the wall.
He bent to
nibble at her earlobe and to brush his lips across the pulse pounding at the
base of her throat.
“Promise me one thing.”
“Saints
preserve us. What?” she gasped.
“No
regrets.”
“The
only regret I have is that you are still wearing your clothes.” She caught
his face between
her palms. “Undress already.”
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Copyright © 2014 Myla Jackson
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. Publication
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To learn more about Myla Jackson visit her website at http://www.mylajackson.com. Or join
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