Storming His Heart (22 page)

“Can you
see
that far?”

His grin widened. “You wouldn’t believe the dream I had last night. But I only see potential futures. The one I want all depends on you.”

“Yes,” she whispered and kissed him for all she was worth. In his embrace, she forgot the world around them and reveled in the strength of his love.

Until the clapping behind them startled her into pulling back.

Her mother and father eyed Rafe with surprise and happiness. Luc rolled his eyes. Thorne stood there with a scowl on his face.

Her mother wiped a tear from her eye. “Oh, that was lovely.”

“I love him,” she confessed.

Thorne groaned. “God, I need to wash my eyes out with soap. You two think way too loudly for my peace of mind. I’ll be in the living room, trying not to kill myself.”

Luc laughed. “Like you could manage that under all those bruises. Come on, gimp, let me help you to the sofa.” He winked at Storm. “Congrats you two, and welcome to the family, Rafe.” Then he guided Thorne inside.

Rafe held her close and held out a hand to her father. “Rafe Savage, sir. I’d like to marry your daughter.”

“I see that.” Her father glanced at her mother. “We picked a helluva time to take a vacation, hmm?”

“The perfect time, I’m thinking. Oh, I can’t wait to hold my granddaughter. She’ll be so cute, but such a handful.” Her mother winked and dragged her father back into the house. “Champagne for everyone! Except Thorne. Not with your pain medication, young man.”

The door swung shut after them.

Storm grinned. “Welcome to my interesting family. Still sure you want to marry me?”

He took a small box out of his back pocket and opened it. “Storm Buchanan, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

A large marquis-cut diamond lay in the center of the box. The ring looked old and blazed in the sunlight, daring her to try it on.

“It was my mother’s,” Rafe said quietly. “She would have loved you.”

Storm let him slip the ring on her finger, and deep inside her, everything finally felt right. “I wish I could tell them you’re in good hands now. I love you, Rafe.”

“Not as much as I love you.”

She smiled. “A man who actually argues with me. You’re perfect, aren’t you?”

He snorted. “I wish. I have a feeling you’ll have me wrapped around your little finger before you can say
boo
.”

“Boo.”

He kissed her again. “See? Already working.”

She laughed as they walked to the back door, arm in arm. A faint scent blew by them on the wind, but Storm knew her mother had nothing but azaleas and pansies in the garden. “Rafe, that smell. What is it?”

“Gardenias,” he said with wonder. “My mother always wore that scent.” He turned to her, his heart in his eyes. “I told you she’d love you.”

About the Author

Marie Harte is an avid reader who loves all things paranormal and futuristic. Reading romances since she was twelve, she fell in love with happy endings and knew writing was her calling.

Twenty-plus years later, the Marine Corps, a foray through Information Technology, a husband and four kids, and her dream has finally come true. Marie lives in Georgia with her family and loves hearing from readers.

To read more about Marie, visit
www.marieharte.com
.

Look for these titles by Marie Harte

Now Available:

Cougar Falls

Rachel’s Totem

In Plain Sight

Feral Attraction

Foxy Lady

Ethereal Foes

The Dragons’ Demon

Duncan’s Descent

I Dream of Dragons Vol. 1

Westlake Enterprises

To Hunt a Sainte

Storming His Heart

A Scorching Seduction

Enjoying the Show

Sins of Summer

He’s enough to tempt a Sainte to sin.

To Hunt a Sainte

© 2010 Marie Harte

Westlake Enterprises, Book 1

Telekinetic Alexandra Sainte is through serving time behind a desk at Buchanan Investigations. She’s more than ready to prove she’s capable of fieldwork, if only her uncle will give her the chance. Tired of waiting, she turns a sudden opportunity into something more.

Her unauthorized raid of a suspected kidnapper’s office goes off without a hitch—mostly—but as she makes her escape, she sees a pair of golden eyes watching her every move. Eyes that spark erotic dreams of a dark stranger taking her in ways that make her blush.

There’s a reason Hunter Greye can’t take his gaze off the sticky-fingered woman he catches ruining his investigation. She fights like a warrior. She bears a striking resemblance to a string of kidnapping victims. And she stirs a wildness within him he thought he’d learned to control a long time ago. She’s a dangerous distraction he can’t afford.

Thrown together in an undercover operation to find the mastermind behind the kidnappings, Alex and Hunter fall in lust, in love, and in danger. Only by trusting each other can they save the girl…and each other.

Warning: Beware psychics with attitude, a killer red dress, a ruthless villain with an angel obsession, and rivals who can’t figure out who’s better on top.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
To Hunt a Sainte:

Despite the glass frame around the closed office door, Hunter needed more than perfect vision to see in the dim light. He took a moment to
focus
,
and the office space brightened. High-quality leather furniture and expensive art decorated Omaney’s space. Photographs of the slick businessman shaking hands with prominent politicians graced the burnt orange walls while a state-of-the-art computer whirred to life on Omaney’s solid-oak desk. Where two masked figures waited.

The arrival of security stopped the intruders’ hasty search. The door burst open, and the largest guard waved a gun at them. “What the hell do you two think you’re doing? Get away from the damned computer, on your knees.”

The guards surrounded them, obviously expecting the masked figures to stop whatever they hell they had planned and kneel on the floor. Clad in black from head to toe, only one of the prowlers looked big enough to successfully engage his opponents. The other was smaller in comparison, a slim figure huddled behind the bigger male. So it came as a surprise to watch the smaller man attack first, taking down the largest guard with a kick to his gun hand and a punch to his neck. The intruder’s partner moved with an efficient grace. He looked as if he spared little more energy than needed to subdue the guards, working in tandem with his companion.

In minutes, all four of Omaney’s sentries sprawled bruised and unconscious on the floor, their guns in a pile on a nearby chair. The intruders had yet to speak. The larger of the two hurried back to the computer desk and plugged in a thumb drive. He typed at the keyboard, then waited, glancing repeatedly at the clock on the wall. The smaller figure remained still, vigilant while he—
or was that she?
—watched the doorway.

Hunter had sensed something odd about the smaller male, and now that he concentrated, he could make out a woman’s form under all that black. She had taken on her attackers with ease, dispatching them quickly. Her large partner had been equally skilled at hand-to-hand combat, and Hunter reevaluated his assessment of the pair, wondering exactly why they sought to invade Omaney’s space. These weren’t ordinary burglars.

Nor was Omaney an ordinary businessman. Due to new evidence Hunter’s team had unearthed a mere week ago, he had no doubt Peter Omaney was involved in their current case. But he didn’t know where these prowlers fit into the equation. It had taken his agency time and exhausting effort to get even a whiff of Omaney’s involvement. The philanthropic businessman was squeaky clean. But obviously someone else knew there was more to Omaney than met the eye.

What the hell had they copied? Hunter needed a bead on the computer, but knew he had little time. Though he’d kept out of the way of the security cameras, these two had activated the motion sensors in Omaney’s office. Even now, others rushed to investigate the warehouse’s silent alarm. He needed to get his ass out of here. Yet…how had these two known to come
here
, to this particular site? Omaney kept this place off the radar.

Unfortunately, nothing about the masked pair seemed familiar.
Running out of time.
He willed them to reveal some important detail as to their identity before he was forced to flee. Westlake Enterprises couldn’t afford to be linked to this break-in, or they’d blow their case.

As if hearing his plea, the man behind the computer did something fairly strange and decidedly stupid. He removed a black glove and placed his hand directly over the keyboard, lightly stroking the keys with his fingertips.

A chill bristled Hunter’s spine, even as he scented the faint trace of extrasensory miasma—a cloying aroma Hunter associated with anything remotely psychic in nature.
Holy shit. Jurek needs to know about this, pronto.

The man placed his hand back in the glove, pulled out and pocketed the memory stick, and turned off the computer. His accomplice tossed him a spray bottle and rag and waited while he wiped the keyboard clean of prints.

Saying nothing, they moved together out the office door. Hunter remained still, watching with great curiosity as they backtracked their way to the exit. They paused while the large man listened at the top of the stairs. He nodded and exited, swallowed by the darkness.

Who the hell were they? More importantly, who were they working for? Hunter needed to get J.D.’s ass out here right away to look at that computer.

He waited for the woman to follow her partner and took a second shock to his system. She turned and looked right at him. Even in the dim light, Hunter could see her gray-green irises. With grudging respect, he studied those eyes that slowly examined his form hidden in the shadows.

When he remained unmoving, the woman disappeared into the darkness. He allowed her a small lead before he followed, his curiosity growing in leaps and bounds while he burned to know the woman’s identity. But, when he reached the ground level, he found the exit door stuck in place. Swearing under his breath, he wrestled with it until the frame cracked and the door swung open.

He pushed through and swept the perimeter. To his immense frustration, they had vanished.

He’s going to be the love of her life…if they survive the night.

A Cop and a Feel

© 2011 Vivi Andrews

Karmic Consultants, Book 5

With a single touch, Ronna Mitchell can catch stolen glimpses of the future and separate truth from lies. But life as a human polygraph machine can be lonely. Craving human contact, she moonlights as a palm reader whenever a carnival comes to town.

Officer Matt Holloway is intent on trailing a hit man when he ducks into a palm reader’s booth to avoid being spotted by his quarry. The beguiling Jamaican fortune teller is definitely intriguing, but she’ll have to wait. He’s close on the assassin’s tail.

When Ronna takes his hand, a startling vision of the future flashes in her mind’s eye. Matt isn’t a typical client, he’s The One. Before she has the chance to introduce herself as the mother of his unborn children, he’s gone, leaving her with a terrifying vision of her soul mate covered in blood. And dead certain she’s the only one who can save her happily ever after.

Warning: This book contains carnies, cops, chases, chance encounters and love at first touch.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
A Cop and a Feel:

Ronna’s panic level reached a new high when Matt’s sandy head disappeared around the back of the Ferris wheel. The image of the gears of the Ferris wheel splattered with blood replayed vividly in her mind’s eye. The crowds swarmed around her, and her heart thudded loudly in her ears. He was going to be killed, and
she couldn’t get to him.

Why were there so many people at the damn carnival? And why were they all moving at an excruciating shuffle pace? Didn’t they realize while they plodded along forming the impenetrable mass of a human herd, the man she was meant to spend the rest of her life with, who was going to give her adorable green-eyed babies and make her laugh until she was ninety-two and too senile to get his jokes anymore, was in peril at this very moment behind the Ferris wheel?
So why they the hell weren’t they moving faster?

Ronna pushed her way through the wall of bodies, too afraid of what might be happening to Matt to toss off apologies as people around her protested her shoving and stomping on feet.

She had to get to him.

Not that she’d be much help if she did. Touch-reading was hardly a super-power capable of stopping a speeding bullet, but she was
sure
she could save him if she was just there with him. He was the love of her life, or at least he would be, and she wasn’t about to let some carnie thug off him behind the Ferris wheel.

A pocket opened up in the crowd between her and the Ferris wheel, and Ronna sprinted forward, running full tilt around the side of the ride and into the heavy shadows behind it, half expecting to stumble over Matt’s lifeless form. In the moment it took for her eyes to adjust to the relative darkness after the spinning strobes of the carnival, she tried to remember how to breathe, gulping in oxygen. She squinted into the dark, one hand pressed over her drumming heart as a figure materialized out of the shadows in front of her.

“Matt!”

Thank God.
Ronna took two running steps forward.

The man in front of her turned toward her. Something was wrong. Ronna slammed on the brakes, her sandals skidding on the sticky asphalt. The form in front of her was too heavyset to be the tall, lean Officer Holloway.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I thought I saw someone come back here.”