When I was born, I was beloved by my parents. I felt their warmth from the tips of my toes to the untamable curls in my hair—until tragedy hit and I lost them both.
With no extended family, I ended up in Kerrighan House, a home for girls just like me—girls who’d lost everything. Mama Kerri took me in and treated me with nothing but love, as did the rest of my sisters of the soul. In that house, we formed a bond that could never be broken.
Now danger seems to follow all of us. But what danger could come to me: a petite, high-school Spanish teacher who’d never hurt a fly? The only one on my tail is Omar Alvarado, the bodyguard hired to protect me from the danger lurking around my sisters. The more I shun his advances though, the harder he tries to earn my favor. Omar seems to like my brand of sass and doesn’t hide the fact he wants me for his own.
I’m determined to not get caught up in his beautiful smile, the sexy suggestions he whispers in my ear, or that incredible body that would make any woman swoon with desire.
Even with the tension rising between us, all seemed to be kept in check—until I found myself in the middle of a high stakes bank robbery.
And the only one who could save me, was the one man I tried so desperately to push away.
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Which is when I truly noticed all that was Omar the bodyguard.
Heat infused my cheeks as I stared slack-jawed at the magnificent man in front of me. He was much larger than me, but most people were. My sisters called me “Sprite” for a reason. Standing at only five foot three, I was several inches shorter than all of them. Standing next to Addy I seemed miniscule in comparison.
Only this man was something else. Muscular biceps stretched the fabric of his black athletic T-shirt to the very limits. The hem dug into his warm brown skin as though trying desperately not to tear against such bulk. My gaze flowed down his wide chest that went into a V-shape at his waist. I could actually see the ridges and indents of what had to be a washboard stomach through the tight fabric. On his lower half he wore black cargo pants and matching boots, but it wasn’t the imposing nature of his size or clothing that unnerved me. It was his sleek, gorgeous face. Rigid jawline, slashes for cheekbones, and dark, arching eyebrows that haloed the prettiest deep brown eyes. My own were milk chocolate brown, but his, they were melted brown sugar, searing with intensity as we both stood silent and looked our fill of the other. His hair was cut short at the sides with long black layers slicked back and swept off his face on top. If he were wearing a suit, he’d have no trouble fitting in as a put-together businessman with that chosen hairstyle. His lips looked plush, with a plumper bottom one that would be fun to suck on and snap back playfully.
My blood warmed and seemed to pump faster as the images of touching all that muscle, trailing my fingertips along such golden skin, invaded my mind. The more I took in, the more I realized he was simply the most handsome man I’d ever laid eyes on.
Trying to hide my visceral response, I pushed a lock of unruly curls behind my ear, checked that my flirty sundress wasn’t out of place after my dash down the stairs, and slowly looked up into those brown sugar eyes. “Um, hola. I’m Liliana.”
He smiled, and I swallowed slowly while letting out a breath I’d been holding since this vision of male perfection entered my sphere of recognition.
Addison’s voice broke me out of my reverie. “Well, I’m going to leave you two to your introductions. See you later?”
My automatic response was to nod dumbly.
Meet Audrey Carlan:
Audrey Carlan is a #1 New York Times and International bestselling author. Her titles have appeared on USA Today and the Wall Street Journal. Audrey writes wicked hot love stories that have been translated in over thirty different languages across the globe. She is best known for the world-wide bestselling series Calendar Girl and Trinity.
She lives in the California Valley where she enjoys her two children and the love of her life. When she's not writing, you can find her teaching yoga, sipping wine with her "soul sisters," or with her nose stuck in a steamy romance novel.
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