Romanian Mob Chronicles Box Set
Coming 4th August
ROMANIAN MOB CHRONICLES BOX SET BOOKS 1-3
When a mobster decides he wants you, you’d better be ready…
For his rough demands.
His dark passion.
And possessiveness that accepts no compromise…
I thought the only thing I feared was living another day in the hell my life had become. But when I looked at his hulking, tattooed body, the icy brutality in his eyes, I realized I was wrong.
Familie. My clan.
I’d fight for it, kill for it, die for it. It’s all that matters to me. But her innocence, only barely hidden by thick layers of makeup, the curves that her tight dress can’t hide, calls to me.
So I’ve decided to keep her.
No matter how deadly the consequences.
When my best friend fell in love with a mobster, I thought she’d lost her mind. Until I met his brother…
Love is a lie, a fairy tale.
In my world, all that matters is staying alive, protecting my clan. There’s no room for normal people. No room for people like her. Especially people like her. She’s pushy, nosy, talks way too much, but I can’t make myself stay away.
But I have to. Because if I don’t, it might kill both of us.
I’ve infiltrated the Romanian mob.
It’s dangerous, insane, but it’s the only way to get the justice I deserve, the vengeance I’ve dedicated my life to. So I’ve wormed my way in, gotten close enough to strike. Everything is going according to plan.
I don’t trust her.
She puts on a good face, playing the sweet, kindly nurse.
I’m not convinced.
But not trusting her hasn’t stopped me from wanting her.
Because I do want her.
Badly enough to ignore the voice in my head that screams at me to stay away.
Badly enough that I’ll put my honor, my clan, and her life at risk.
I jolted awake when he moved, and looked around the room disoriented. I hadn’t let myself believe last night had been a dream, but I was surprised I’d managed to fall asleep. I had curled in the farthest corner as tight as I could, determined to watch him all night. I’d held out for a while too, the question of why he’d made me change, take off the wig and makeup providing a little puzzle for me to wonder over. But soon, to my surprise, I’d fallen asleep and stayed that way for hours it seemed.
He stood, more intimidating this morning than he had been last night. But the light did give me a chance to see him better, and what I saw made my already dry throat squeeze tighter. His stature was still imposing, the tattoos had the same menace, but his eyes were softer somehow this morning, icy but not threatening, and the raspy shadow of his beard, a few shades darker than his surprisingly soft-looking brown hair had the duel effect of making him more threatening and more human.
And as reckless as it was crazy, I felt a spark of desire low in my belly. It had been so long since I’d felt such a thing, I hadn’t thought I ever would again, but the tight thrum that sparked inside me was undeniable.
“W-what’s your name?” I asked, my voice breaking from disuse and the dryness of my throat.
Rather than respond, he turned and walked toward the kitchen area of the large room. With efficient, graceful movements, he retrieved a glass, filled it with water and came back to me, glass extended.
“Drink,” he said.
Rising up on my knees, I reached for the glass and then caught the almost imperceptibly quick glance he cast at my legs. Belatedly, I remembered that I was clad in a not nearly long enough T-shirt and that my thighs were completely exposed. I froze, torn between the desire to cover myself and the desire not to upset him.
But he did the most unexpected thing—he looked back into my eyes. It was a simple gesture, hardly notable, but it allayed my fears more than anything else could have. He didn’t leer at me, hadn’t touched me, and that made me want to trust him.
The first drops of cool water against my tongue were refreshing, and I drank eagerly until the water was gone.
“More?” he asked, his voice a deep rumble in his chest.
I shook my head.
“He’s your husband?” he asked.
I shook my head again. “N-no.”
“Do you want to go back?” he asked.
“No.” I spoke emphatically this time, knowing that no matter what, I couldn’t go back there.
He stood aside, gestured toward the front door. “You are free to go,” he said.
As modestly as I could, I crawled out of the bed and stood, drawing as close to him as I dared. Then I looked toward the door, then back at him, my heart pounding harder than it had before.
He was offering a way out, the thing I had dreamed of, but my feet were rooted to the floor. I looked between him and the door again, sickening dread filling my stomach.
David would take me back. He always found me and took me back. But maybe here…
I met the man’s gaze head-on.
“I want to stay.”
Kaye writes hot, gritty, suspenseful romance featuring alpha males and the women who love them.