Jordan (44 page)

She should pull away until she knew what he was up to. But she couldn’t. Not when he looked so damn good.

He went still behind her, drawing out a moment of silence that thrummed with tension. Her sizzling awareness of him seemed
to fill the space between them with a rush of heat.

At the first touch of his hands on her shoulders, she had to bite back a gasp of pleasure. Gently, ever so slowly, he kneaded
her neck and caressed her shoulders with a sensual thoroughness that melted away the tension. Circling in on the tight spots
with soothing caresses, he feathered his fingertips over her sore muscles.

Her pulse leaped. She swallowed hard.

Rion eased the heels of his palms into her tight shoulders with lingering, luscious strokes. After several mesmerizing minutes,
he leaned forward and his breath fanned her ear. “You carry tension in the neck.”

“I do?” She sighed and leaned into his hands, grateful for the relief.

He kneaded gently, gradually going deeper, until her muscles melted, until she felt as warm and pliable as taffy. His fingers
were so clever, but as he released one kind of tension, a sensuous anticipation began to build.

“Am I too hard for you?” he asked, almost sounding innocent.

She jerked upright and made a choking sound. He was sitting behind her, but she could see his chiseled face reflected in the
mirrors and caught a reckless I-shouldn’t-be-messing-with-my-best-friend’s-sister-but-I’m-going-to-do-it-anyway gleam in his
eyes. “My hands. Am I rubbing too hard?”

“You feel great. And you damn well know it.” She lifted an eyebrow and shot back her best I-know-what-you’re-up-to look.

But she really had no idea what his intentions were. He might have been a first-class flirt with other women, but with her,
he’d merely been friendly.

“I’m glad you like my touch,” he murmured.

At his flirting, her heart fluttered, but she tamped down her excitement and cast him a curious glance. “From what I hear,
you’ve had lots of practice.”

Rion worked on a knot next to her spine, applying tension until the tightness ebbed. “You have an Earth saying, ‘Practice
makes perfect.’ But I’m not certain if a massage can ever be perfect. After all, there are so many variations of where to
touch… how to touch… when to touch…”

No one could accidentally be
that
suggestive—not even a man from another planet. And while she’d love to find out exactly where and how he would touch her
next, all her caution signals flared.

Leaning forward, he whispered into her ear, “Did you know you have a very sexy neck?” His gray eyes met hers in the mirror,
and she could have sworn they smoldered. When he brushed a wispy tendril from her nape, heat shimmied down her spine.

Damn, he was smooth. Real smooth. Although she’d already been burned by her ex-husband, she was long over the hurt. Yet when
it came to men, she remained cautious, unable to trust her own judgment.

Ignoring the desire surging through her veins, she scooted from under Rion’s hands and stood. “Thanks. It’s been a long day.
I need to hit the sack.”

“Good night, Marisa.” He stood, too, and grabbed his shirt. As she left the workout room, he called out to her. “Sweet dreams.”

Sweet was out of the question. Sizzling hot was more like it.

Where authors give you the inside scoop!

From the desk of Cara Elliott

Dear Readers,

Pssst.
Have you seen the morning newspaper yet? Oh, it’s too delicious for words. The infamous Lord H—yes, Mad, Bad Had-ley in the
flesh—has made yet another wicked splash in the gossip column. You remember last week, when his cavorting with a very luscious—and
very naked—ladybird ended with a midnight swim in the Grosvenor Square fountain? Well, that was just a drop in the bucket
compared to this latest
ondit
. Word has it that Hadley, the rakishly sexy hero of TO SIN WITH A SCOUNDREL (available now), has really fallen off the deep
end this time. He’s been spotted around Town with… the Wicked Widow of Pont Street.

Don’t bother cleaning your spectacles—you read that right. Hadley and Lady Sheffield! The same Lady Sheffield who stirred
such a scandal last year when it was whispered that she may have poisoned her husband. Yes, yes, at first blush it seems impossible.
After all, they are complete opposites. The fun-loving Lord Hadley is a devil-may-care rogue, and the reclusive Lady Sheffield
is a scholarly bluestocking. Why, the only thing they appear to have in common is the fact that their names show up so frequently
in all the gossip columns. But appearances can be deceiving, and a friend tells me that a fundamental law of physics states
that opposites attract.

Not that
I
would dare to wager on it. However, the betting books at all the London clubs are filled with speculation on why Hadley is
paying court to the lovely widow. Some say that it’s merely one of Hadley’s madcap pranks. Others think that he’s been bewitched
by one of the potent potions that the lady brews up in her laboratory. But I’ll let you in on a little secret: Whatever the
reason, the combination of a scoundrel and a scientist has passion and intrigue coming to a boil!

How do I know? I’ll let you in on another little secret—as the author of the book, I’m familiar with
all
the intimate details of their private lives.

So why did I choose to make my hero and heroine of TO SIN WITH A SCOUNDREL the subject of rumors and innuendos? In doing my
research, I discovered that our current fascination with gossip and scandal is nothing new. Regency England reveled in “tittle-tattle,”
and had its own colorful scandal sheets and “paparazzi.” Newspapers and pamphlets reported in lurid detail on the celebrity
bad boys—and bad girls—of high society. And like today, sex, money, and politics were hot topics. As for pictures, there were,
of course, no cameras, but the satirical artists of the Regency could be even more ruthless than modern-day photographers.

Hmmm, come to think of it, the hero and heroine of TO SURRENDER TO A ROGUE, the second book in the series (available June
’10), are likely to generate quite a bit of gossip too. Lady Sheffield’s fellow scholar, the lovely and enigmatic Lady Giamatti,
finds that someone is intent on digging up dirt on her past life in Italy while she is excavating Roman antiquities in the
town of Bath. That Black Jack Pierson is a member of the learned group stirs up trouble… Oh, but don’t let me spoil the fun.
You really ought to read all about it for yourself.

Now don’t worry if your butler has tossed out the morning newspaper. If you hurry on over to
www.caraelliott.com
, you can sneak a tantalizing peek at all three books in my new Circle of Sin series.

Enjoy!

From the desk of Susan Kearney

Dear Readers,

I came up with my idea for JORDAN, the third book in the Pendragon Legacy trilogy, while sipping a wine cooler in my hammock.
I was rocking between two rustling queen palms when a time machine landed on my dock. And the hottest dude ever strode up
the wooden stairs and pulled up a chair beside me. His eyes matched the blue of the sea and his muscles rippled in the Florida
sunshine.

Jordan.

He’d arrived just as the sun was dipping into the Gulf of Mexico. And did you know that Jordan’s history is as interesting
as his looks?

Did I mention this guy may have looked in the prime of his life, but he’s more than fifteen hundred years old? Did I mention
that centuries ago he fought at King Arthur’s side? And that not only is he a powerful dragon-shaper but he knows secrets
to save us all?

Jordan raked a hand through his hair. “Rion told me that you write love stories about the future.”

“I do.” Somehow, I knew this was going to be one hell of a story.

“In the future, Earth will be threatened by your greatest enemy.”

My fingers shook. “Did you save my world?”

“I had help from a smart, beautiful woman.”

“And you fell in love?” I guessed, always a romantic at heart.

“She was my boss.” His voice lowered to a sexy murmur. “And we fought a lot in the beginning. You see, Vivianne Blackstone
didn’t trust me.”

“So you had to win her over?”

“She’s one stubborn woman.” His voice rang with pride, a grin softening his tone.

Oh, this story sounded exciting. Lucan had told me how Vivianne Blackstone had funded the first spaceship mission to Pendragon.
Just imagining such a strong woman with Jordan sent a delicious shiver of anticipation down my spine. “But surely Vivianne
must have liked you just a little bit at first?”

“She thought I was an enemy spy.” Jordan’s grin widened. “And she wasn’t too pleased when I stole her new spaceship… with
her on board.”

Oh, my. “I’d imagine it took her awhile to forgive you.”

While Jordan was quite the man… still… he’d stolen her ship and taken her with him into space. Vivianne must have been furious.
And scared. Although, the writer in me told me Jordan had been good for Vivianne. “So how long did it take her to believe
you were both on the same side?”

Jordan chuckled. “It must have been after the second, no, the third time we made love.”

I swallowed hard. Oh… my. “You made love while she believed you were enemies?”

He raised an eyebrow. “We didn’t really have a choice.”

I gave him a hard look. “Um, look. I’m afraid I’m going to need the details. Lots of details.”

If you’d like to read the details Jordan told me, the book is in stores now. Reach me at
www.susankearney.com
.