Instead of standing, he lowered himself onto one knee between my legs and took my face gently in both hands.

“Look at me, Isabella.”

Something in the roughness of his voice made me obey.

His green eyes held mine, and hearing my name wrapped in that deep Irish accent made everything else recede.

“You’re safe,” he said.

His voice resonated in the air between us, hitting me with an intensity that was both unnerving and exhilarating. It was as if every syllable he uttered was designed to unsettle me, to knock me off-kilter. His words left me both melted and aflutter, inciting a paradoxical blend of anxiety and comfort within me. Listening to his deep timbre was a guilty pleasure—a secret indulgence that made me squirm.

~Samantha Sheridan, Night Shift

“Cry if you need to, Mouse. No one’s getting through me to get to you.”

A dangerous escape, bullets in the air, and Lachlan still manages to wreck Isabella with two words.

“Good girl.”

Under any other circumstances, those two words would have done terrible things to my concentration.

At the moment, I was mostly trying not to get shot.

“She’s mine to protect. Touch her again, and you die.”

He let the silence stretch before delivering the final blow.

“And you’re right about one thing,” he said coldly. “I am a killer. I’ve ended lives without flinching. But there’s a difference between violence and violation. I don’t touch women who can’t say no. I don’t trade flesh for profit. And I sure as hell don’t parade innocents on a stage so monsters can place their bids.”

~Lyla Oakley, Eyes on You

Even covered in blood and close to disaster, Isabella’s attitude hits Lachlan exactly where it should not.

That little flash of attitude made me want to kiss her, which was inconvenient as hell at the moment.

Turns out, a woman rolling her eyes at me while covered in blood and standing a few yards from a fatal drop was exactly my type.

Good to know.

She looked like temptation incarnate—everything I didn’t want to want. I told myself I was a man of logic. But after seeing the show she put on last night, I couldn’t suppress my baser instincts. I’d watched her move, twist, writhe, and command the attention of every man in the room. She didn’t need to fake seduction—it was in her bones.

This girl, who poured coffee and read romance novels by day, was no innocent flower. Within her was a scorching sun of sensuality.

I wanted her. And I didn’t care if she burned me alive.

~Nikolai Volkov, Eyes on You

And so I waited in silence for him to make the next move. It was a calculated risk, placing my trust in him, but after everything we’d shared today, this was just another step along the path we were now on together. And as uncomfortable as it was to let go, to relinquish control, something deep inside told me it was worth it to see where this journey with Mr. Captain might ultimately lead.

~Noelle Nichols, Christmas Cancellation

Those crystal-blue eyes of hers…they cut through all the bullshit and pierced my soul. I was forever lost to her. That twenty percent angel, eighty percent devil mix made me want to dive headfirst into whatever underworld she’d take me.

~Conan Thorin, Day Shift