Brutal Prince Bonus Scene (Brutal Birthright, #1.5)(84)



“I shouldn’t tell you how much you could get away with, Aida,” I say, shaking my head. “But you already know that I’d forgive anything you do.”

“Anything?” she says, grinning mischievously.

“Yes,” I say. “But please don’t test that theory.”

Aida leans across the table to kiss me. She pulls back just a little so her nose is touching mine.

“I love you,” she says. “Did I tell you that yet?”

“No,” I grin. “Tell me again.”



The End





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Brutal Birthright Book 1: Brutal Prince





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Colors of Crime Book 5



After he catches beautiful assassin Sloane trying to poison him, Ivan takes her prisoner. He’ll stop at nothing to get her to reveal her secrets — whether it be through punishment or pleasure…

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★★★★★ “These books have it all: mystery, romance, suspense, feuding Russian Bratva/Mafia families, hot sex, terrific and believable characters!”





“Colors of Crime ” is an action-packed, supremely sexy romance series, full of thieves, detectives, mafia princesses, and Bratva bad boys. Each book is a stand-alone and can be read independently. However, if you read in order, you’ll find hidden connections to make the story even more fun. There’s no cheating or cliff hangers, but there are definitely some spicy scenes, including rough sex and spanking.

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Sapphire – Chapter 1





Byron Black – London





I knew I was in love with you. Was I an idiot for thinking you were in love with me too?

Jesu Nadal





Chief Superintendent Black drove his hired car up the long, private drive to the Home Secretary’s house. He glanced with pleasure at the beautiful woman occupying the seat next to his. He knew he would be one of the least-important people at the party that night, but he couldn’t imagine that anyone would have a more stunning date on their arm.

Though they had been together almost a year, she was still a mystery to him, this dazzling American girl who had dropped into his life. What was she thinking now, at this moment?

Lex didn’t seem nervous in the slightest, though she was about to walk into a mansion full of strangers, in a setting where she couldn’t possibly know all the social norms. She seemed perfectly at her ease, leaning her elbow across the frame of the open window, enjoying the evening breeze streaming inside, heedless of how it might disarrange the elegant ballerina bun atop her head.

He loved when she wore her hair up like that, showing her long, slender neck.

And where had she found that gown? Emerald green silk, one-shouldered, perfectly fit and cascading down her body, save for a slit up one thigh. She looked as regal as an empress.

He would usually have felt uncomfortable with something so attention-grabbing. After all, the higher echelons of London society were still conservative compared to what she was probably used to back home. But he had seen her at enough parties to know that she charmed everyone she met. He didn’t have to worry about her.

This evening would be a little different than usual. Black had been invited—by the commissioner himself—to a private party thrown by the Home Secretary in honor of his wife’s fiftieth birthday.

Black rarely hobnobbed with the British political elite. The commissioner had invited him because Black was considered a rising star in the London police. In line for promotion to commander within a few months, and maybe eventually to the commissioner position itself.

They liked using him as a poster-boy: the chav who had risen through the ranks with such speed and perfection, and such excellent absorption of the rules of the game, spoken and unspoken.

Because that, of course, was the part that was actually difficult. Not solving cases—he was very good at that. The hard part was learning the right vocabulary and the right methods of pronunciation, the right way to dress and to behave, the right people to trade favors with. That was how you got ahead.

Black hated the games he had to play. Though he never let it show, he resented them. The wealthy that had been born that way. The people who didn’t have to work to get to the same place to which he had to kick and claw and struggle for years.

Had Lex grown up rich or poor? It was so hard to tell. She didn’t like to talk about her family or her childhood. He hoped she would be more open with him once they were married.

Assuming she said yes.

He had the ring, already bought. He’d been carrying it around in his breast pocket for a month, looking for the right moment to bring it out.

Of course, there had been plenty of moments—after a particularly enthusiastic session in bed, during a walk through the falling leaves in Hyde Park, when he’d taken her to dinner at Le Pont de la Tour.

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