Tall, Dark, and Deadly: Seven Bad Boys of Paranormal Romance

  She shot him a flirtatious glance. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “I’m going to love you. Forever and always.” He gave her a kiss that stole her breath.

  Her heart nearly burst with pride, with happiness. Keegan was hers. He was totally hers now, and she would never let him go.

  “That’s a really long time,” she teased. “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, I’m sure,” he said. And from the sincerity in his eyes, she didn’t doubt it.

  She laughed, unable to stop the happy sound from bubbling forth.

  “I love you, too.” She yanked his head down for another kiss, then broke away long enough to say, “You know, that Councilwoman, I think she was—”

  “Shush.” Keegan laughed, placing a finger to her lips. “Don’t say it. They depend on anonymity.”

  Before Brynn could protest, Keegan kissed her again. Then again, until she completely forgot what she had been about to say.

  Epilogue

  “You’re insatiable,” Brynn murmured.

  Keegan ran his hand down the milky-white flesh of her thigh. “Look who’s talking, love.”

  “True, I think I could do that all day.”

  He laughed and buried his face in her neck. “Let’s try it and see.”

  “Mmm…how much longer before your brothers come back?”

  “Hopefully another week at least,” he said, the sound muffled against her skin.

  “Stop.” She giggled. “This apartment is more than big enough for all of us.”

  “True, but it becomes much harder to make love in every room when they’re here.” He pressed a kiss to her breast, and she arched up to meet him. “Besides, we are on our honeymoon.”

  “Yeah, it was nice of them to give us some time to ourselves.”

  “Mmm.” Keegan traced his tongue around her nipple, delighting in the way it puckered at his touch. It was sweeter than any berry. “I’m sure they’re off having fun.”

  Brynn sighed. “Except for Taeg.”

  “Hmm?” he said absently.

  “Taeg.” She pushed on his shoulders, and he reared back. “I know he’s out there looking for Leviathos.”

  “As he should. The man is insane and dangerous.”

  “I know, but I’m afraid it’s becoming an obsession to him.”

  Keegan didn’t say anything. What could he say? That Taeg was convinced Leviathos would try to come after her? That Keegan thought it might happen, too? No, she deserved to live happily, without fear. That was why Taeg worked so hard to find Leviathos. And Keegan loved him for it.

  “He’ll be fine,” he finally said.

  “I know. I just worry about him.”

  “Well,” he said, “I know of a way to take all your worries away.”

  His hand drifted between her thighs until he found her warm center and stroked inward, reveling in the way she shuddered beneath him. She let out a little gasp and moved under his fingers.

  Before Brynn could do more than utter a laughing protest, Keegan slid down and showed her just how adept he could be at making her forget.

  Did you love Keegan? Check out the complete Demons of Infernum series by Rosalie Lario!

  Acknowledgments

  First I must thank my family for putting up with my countless late nights of writing, excessive pizza ordering, and general brain fogginess as I’ve mapped out this series. You inspire me to be a better person, and that makes you all heroes in my book!

  My deepest gratitude to publisher extraordinaire Liz Pelletier for believing in and taking a chance on my story.

  To Heather Howland and Libby Murphy, you ladies rock! What more can I say? And to Suzanne Johnson, who is utterly amazing *wink*. I couldn’t ask for a better editing team than this.

  And much appreciation to my critique partner and friend, Mary Abshire, for supporting my vision, even through those craptastic first drafts.

  About the Author

  Rosalie Lario practiced real-estate law for several years before finally admitting to herself negotiating contracts wasn’t nearly as fun as dreaming up stories. When not writing, she enjoys spending time with her husband and son in their home state of Florida, as well as searching out things that go bump in the night. You can learn more about Rosalie at her website at www.rosalielario.com.

  If you loved this Entangled Select novel, check out more of our titles here!

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  Discover Rosalie Lario’s award-winning Demons of Infernum series...

  Mark of the Sylph

  Half-demon Taeg Meyers is desperate to destroy the spell holding his sister-in-law bound to an indestructible book that will create an army of the undead. Librarian Maya Flores is his best hope for uncovering the ancient sword he needs. Unfortunately, she is on a one-woman mission to destroy the evil demons who took her family and she’d rather kill Taeg. As he fights for her trust and to save his family, she is forced to face the truth—not all demons are evil, and she’s falling in love with one, too.

  Heart of the Incubus

  Touch of the Angel

  Call of the Siren

  It was her destiny...

  Tara Collins just wants to be normal. Everyone else wants her dead.

  Tara’s eccentric aunt raised her to be fearful of the world and follow the rules. But after her aunt’s death, Tara is ready to take control and experience life for the first time. But she quickly discovers that everything she’s been told is a web of lies. Determined to solve the mystery of who she is truly, she hires private investigator to help her uncover the truth.

  Christian Roth is more than your average PI. A vampire and ex-demon hunter, Christian lives among the humans, trying to be “normal.” But recently, things seem to be falling apart. There’s a crazed demon hell-bent on revenge hunting him down, and a fae assassin on the loose with an unknown target. And the Order he abandoned desperately needs his help.

  As the secrets of Tara’s past collide with the problems in Christian’s present, she finds herself fighting her attraction to the dark and mysterious investigator. Falling in love does not fit into her plans at all, but Tara soon learns that some rules are meant to be broken.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2013 by Nina Croft. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  2614 South Timberline Road

  Suite 109

  Fort Collins, CO 80525

  Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

  Edited by Marie Loggia-Kee and Liz Pelletier

  Cover design by Liz Pelletier and Heather Howland

  ISBN 978-1-62266-959-2

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition February 2013

  To my sister, Anne, who introduced me to vampires.

  Dear Reader

  Welcome to the world of the Order of the Shadow Accords!

  I never actually start writing a book with the intention of writing a series, but then something invariably happens. Usually involving me falling madly in love with one of the secondary characters and needing to spend more time with them. This was certainly the case while writing Christian and Tara’s story. I fell head-over-heels in love with Piers Lamont, a two thousand year old French vampire, Christian’s friend, and the current head of The Order. Piers became the hero of book two, Bittersweet Magic.

  Not content with giving my heart to Piers, I went on to fall badly for Asmodai who was actually the villain of the story. Asmodai is a demon from the Abyss,
bent on revenge, but utterly gorgeous and perhaps redeemable.

  And that’s why I love this series so much. Most of the characters hover somewhere between good and evil and often the line is a little blurred. But nobody is beyond redemption. I love watching strong characters battle with their darker sides, struggle to do the right thing, and sacrifice everything to protect what’s theirs.

  I hope you fall in love with them as well.

  - Nina

  Part One

  Breaking all the Rules

  Chapter One

  Rule Number One: Never question the past.

  Tara took a single step into the alleyway and stopped.

  Up ahead, something shifted in the shadows and a waft of warm air carried the stench of dirty smoke and rotten eggs to her nostrils. A prickle of unease shivered across her skin.

  No way was she ending up dead in a dark alley before she had a chance to break Rule Number One. Wrinkling her nose against the smell, she held her breath and backed out into the bright lights of the main street.

  And straight into something solid and unexpected.

  For a second, she thought she must have hit a brick wall. A brick wall that hadn’t been there thirty seconds earlier.

  “Are you okay?”

  A brick wall that talked.

  Swallowing the lump in her throat, she turned.

  Her eyes were level with his chest and at first all she registered was his immense size. Taking a slow step back, she forced her gaze upward. In the artificial light, he was leached of color, with black hair pulled into a ponytail, and skin so pale it appeared white. She went still as silver eyes captured hers. For a second, she stared mesmerized, unable to drag her gaze away from the stranger.

  “Are you lost?” He spoke again, breaking the spell.

  “No. Yes. Maybe.” She waved the map clutched in her hand. “I was considering a short cut.”

  A short cut to the railway station and a fast train away from here. For the last ten minutes, she’d been dithering. Should she go ahead, break Rule Number One, and perhaps come to a messy and premature end? Or should she run away and try to forget the stupid rules had ever existed?

  “A short cut down a dark alley? Has no one ever told you it’s dangerous to wander down dark alleys alone?”

  Was there some subtle threat beneath his words? Did he look vaguely menacing for a moment? Or was it merely her overactive imagination playing games with her? He was just a man—a tall, powerfully built man, but quite respectable in his sleek, dark business suit and red tie.

  Still, a little voice in her head whispered to her to turn and walk away—though perhaps not down the dark alley.

  But something held her back.

  All her life she’d been afraid. Aunt Kathy had brought her up to fear just about everything, and she’d done a brilliant job. But Aunt Kathy was dead, and Tara refused to live like that anymore.

  “Well?” he murmured and she realized he was waiting for an answer.

  “Actually, yes. I’m quite aware of the dangers. But I have an important meeting and my mind was on other things.” Like running away.

  He considered her for a moment. “Where is this important meeting? Perhaps I can help.”

  “CR International. You know it?”

  His lips curved into a slow smile and suddenly she realized how devastatingly attractive he was. “You mean the CR International building behind you?” A faint trace of amusement tinged his voice.

  She pursed her lips but turned slowly. He wasn’t kidding. It stood directly opposite, on the other side of the street. An immense structure of steel and smoky glass with CR International in big gold letters over the door. How the hell had she missed that? “Oh…thank you.”

  This was it. Either she’d discover the truth, or she’d be blasted by a bolt of divine retribution. Time to find out which.

  She took a few steps but couldn’t resist glancing back over her shoulder. The man still stood, hands in his pockets, watching her, a strange almost hungry look in his eyes.

  “Overactive imagination,” she muttered and headed across the street.

  A young man sat behind the reception desk; handsome, with dark red hair like a fox and blue eyes that perfectly matched his shirt.

  “I’m Tara Collins,” she said. “I have an appointment with Mr. Grant.”

  “I’ll let him know you’re here.” He reached for the phone beside him, but it rang before he picked up, and he sent her an apologetic glance. “One moment.” As he listened, a startled expression flickered across his face. “Sure, Christian. No problem.”

  He put the phone down. “Ms. Collins?”

  Tara nodded.

  “I’m afraid Mr. Grant can’t see you tonight.”

  Tara sagged with relief and bit back a “halleluiah.” She’d done her best, but now she could legitimately put off breaking Rule Number One just a little while longer. Like forever maybe.

  “Absolutely no problem,” she said. “Shall I make another appointment? Perhaps in a couple of weeks? A month? A year…?”

  A year sounded good.

  He smiled, showing perfect white teeth. “No need. That was Mr. Roth—the owner of the company—he’ll see you instead. I’ll take you up myself as access to the thirteenth floor is restricted.”

  He called one of the security guards over from beside the door and spoke with him quietly then came out from behind the reception desk.

  “My name’s Graham. If you’d come with me…”

  She followed him, not to the bank of elevators where a few people waited, but into a smaller one around the corner. Inside, there were just two buttons, one pointing up and one down. Graham pressed the up button, and they rose smoothly. When the doors opened, he didn’t exit. Instead, he pointed to a set of black double doors opposite.

  Tara stared at them, unable to shake the feeling that this was the point of no return. What if Aunt Kathy had been right? What if there was a very good reason not to question the past?

  “Go ahead,” Graham murmured from beside her. “Mr. Roth doesn’t… bite.”

  Tara scowled at the faint thread of amusement in his voice—it seemed as though everyone was finding her funny today. She stalked out of the elevator.

  This floor appeared deserted, and hushed. Her feet made no sound on the thick carpets as she walked toward the imposing doors. Without giving herself any more time to think, she pressed her finger lightly to the smooth black metal and the door swung open. Inside, the room was in semi-darkness, the only light spilling in from the floor to ceiling windows that lined the far wall.

  Perhaps no one was home.

  She hovered in the doorway, unsure whether to stay or go, when a man spoke from inside.

  “Come in, Ms. Collins.”

  The voice was low, husky, and vaguely familiar. She hesitated a moment more and then took the few steps inside. Behind her, the door swung shut. The air was cool against her skin and she glanced around.

  “Lights,” she muttered. “Lights would be good here.”

  A faint click, and warm light filled the room. Tara blinked a couple of times then her gaze locked on the figure seated behind the huge steel desk.

  The man from the alley. Why wasn’t she more surprised?

  “You know,” she said. “You could have introduced yourself.”

  A small smile curved his lips. “And spoil the surprise?”

  Yeah, right.

  He stood slowly, then came around the desk to stand in front of her, one arm outstretched. Tara fought the urge to hide her hands behind her back; something about this man set her on edge. Of course, it could be that the whole “breaking the rules” thing was just screwing with her mind, that right now, she was predisposed to see weirdness in everything.

  She grasped his hand firmly, intending the greeting to be brief, but his fingers tightened around hers. Her gaze shot to his face. He wasn’t a handsome man; his features were too harsh for that, with pale skin stretched tight over hard bones. But his
silver eyes held her mesmerized as he lifted her hand. For a moment, she was sure he intended to kiss it, but he merely inhaled deeply. Something flashed in his eyes, something hot and hungry, and a shiver ran through her. Then the expression vanished as if it had never been.

  “I’m Christian Roth.”

  “So your receptionist told me.” She gave a tug. “Could I have my hand back?”

  He smiled and released her, then gestured to a chair in front of his desk.

  “Why don’t you sit down and tell me how I can…help you.” He waited until she was seated, then returned to his own chair. “So, Tara Collins, why do you need a private investigator?”

  This was the moment she’d built herself up for over the last six months. She’d even practiced the words in front of the mirror. But now, at the last second, they didn’t want to come out. She cleared her throat. Took a deep breath. She could do this.

  “I want you to find out who I am.”

  There, she’d done it. Broken Rule Number One.

  She sat very still, staring at her hands. Her aunt had always been a little vague about the actual consequences of breaking the rules—just that they’d be dire. Tara had always imagined some sort of fiery bolt from above. Now she waited for it to crash down and annihilate her.

  Nothing happened.

  “So, you’re not Tara Collins?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. I’ve always been called Tara Collins. But I don’t know who she is or who my parents were or where I came from.”

  “Perhaps you’d better explain a little more.”

  She wished she could. Really she did. But she had no explanations; nothing she’d discovered since her aunt’s death made any sense. “Maybe I should start at the beginning.”

  “A good place to start.”

  Was he mocking her? But his expression was bland and she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. “I was brought up by my Aunt Kathryn. At least I always thought she was my aunt. We lived in a house on the Yorkshire moors. Aunt Kathy was a little…eccentric.” And that was the understatement of the century. “She never left the house and she would have preferred it if I never left, though sometimes I would…”