Never Give You Up
A life of crime—or a lifetime of love?
Mary Billings knows her solitary mountain life is over when a handsome stranger blows on to her land in an unmarked chopper. Terry McCoy is not only dangerous to the pretty widow’s shattered senses, he’s a hardened criminal no woman in her right mind would fall for. Yet there’s something tender about Terry—something that makes her surrender to his searing touch. Now Mary is in deep—deep enough to be taken hostage by a villain whose true target is Terry…
The son of a notorious crime boss, Terry is about to take over his murdered father’s multi-million dollar empire. But first there’s the little matter of avenging his father’s death—and rescuing the one woman he knows could turn his hard-bitten life around. Terry never wanted a life of crime, but suddenly he’s ready to do just about anything to bring Mary back…
EROTIC ROMANCE | Contemporary | Action/Adventure
Publisher: Kensington Books
Formats: eBook & Paperback
Release date: June 7, 2016
"There's plenty of drama backstabbing to keep you hooked. The sub-characters are great too and I hope to get Sam's story next."
~ Romance Readers Retreat
"I love this type of romance! Mobs, damsels in distress, a surprising hero that is both dangerous, alluring, and sexy as sin. This story is fabulous!"
~ Marie's Tempting Reads
“Are you afraid to be alone with me, Mary? Do you want me to leave?”
He leaned closer until she felt his breath at her temple. The heated caress made her want to lean in and let him swallow her up in his embrace. A shudder sizzled down her midsection and decided to go right between her legs. “No. It’s . . . I’m okay. Just a little nervous, that’s all. I don’t get much company around here.” Breathe. She glanced back up, her eyes searching his. Something was happening to her. His touch didn’t feel wrong; it felt natural.
Terry nodded, apparently misunderstanding her reaction, and released her arm. “I understand. Remember, you’re the boss.”
She felt like a nervous girl about to fool around with the bully neighbor. “Well, the fish are waiting for us.” She quickly headed for the door, embarrassed by his deep chuckle right behind her, and grabbed her rod and tackle box from the hallway closet.
“Why are we fishing in the evening? Isn’t early morning better?” He fell in step beside her as they crossed the driveway to the path across the road.
“Morning or evening. It’s basically the same, but I didn’t feel like getting up at dawn.”
“Ah. I see.” Terry chuckled behind her.
They walked in silence along the path, surrounded by the relaxing swish of branches in the breeze. Nothing compared to the natural beauty of her property. Trees pushing sixty feet or more, some with trunks the width of a vehicle. The trickle of water from the river a constant and relaxing sound. The ever-present mountain tips above the treetops. It never failed to amaze her how insignificant she was in this endless highway of nature.
“If we catch anything, will it be on the dinner menu tonight?”
“Sure, if you’d like.”
His relieved sigh made her chuckle. “Thank God. I was beginning to think I’d have to shoot a squirrel or something.”
Mary paused on the path and turned to face him. “I’m not a complete hick you know. Mima might enjoy frontier living, but not me. I actually own an electric coffee pot, and I blow-dry my hair.”
Terry nodded, his lip curling in amusement. “Good to know.”
She stepped off the path and parted the brush. “Watch you don’t get your rod caught in here. It’s a little tricky.”
“Want to hold it for me?”
The insinuation in his voice was unmistakable. “I’m talking about your fishing rod—not your dick.” Her eyes widened when she realized how terrible that sounded coming from her own mouth.
Terry’s rumble of laughter made her cheeks burn. “My, my, you have a dirty mind, Mary. I wasn’t even talking about that.”
Completely embarrassed, Mary stepped through the brush first and let the branches whip behind her, right in his face. She ignored his curse and his loud fight to get through the brush without getting his rod stuck, and made her way to the river’s edge. She’d just set down her tackle box when Terry burst through the trees, violently yanking his pole out of the twisted branches.
“Why don’t you trim the brush there?” Terry threw his gear onto the rocks and panted for air. “Jesus Christ, I might need plastic surgery on my face now.”
Mary’s shoulders shook from laughing. The crumpled mess of his hat barely clung to his head. He looked so cute and out of his element that her smile faltered as she stared at him, realizing this was the first time she’d seen him look vulnerable.
He wanted to come here. The city boy criminal wanted to be here—with her.
She opened her tackle box and found the perfect jig. “This is my private spot, Terry. I don’t want anyone finding it.”
He shook his head and stood straight, stretching out his back. “I don’t think that’ll ever be a problem. A Smurf can barely fit through it.”
Mary turned around and glared at him. “Are you teasing me about my height?”
He cleared his throat and set out to find a spot to fish from. “Of course not.” Yet his voice spilled with suppressed laughter.
For a long while they were completely silent, enjoying the trickle of the water, the swish and sway of branches in the breeze, the musical chatter of the birds. Every once in a while Mary would glance at him without making it obvious, and stifle a smile over his struggles. But he managed to get a decent cast out into the river and after a while he seemed to be really enjoying himself. Mary imagined he didn’t get much joy in life. How could anyone who lived on the wrong side of the law?