Verwandte Artikel zu Touch of Surrender (Primal Instinct, 6, Band 5)

Touch of Surrender (Primal Instinct, 6, Band 5) - Softcover

Buch 5 von 9: Primal Instinct

Byrd, Rhyannon

 
9780373774647: Touch of Surrender (Primal Instinct, 6, Band 5)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0373774648 ISBN 13: 9780373774647
Verlag: HQN, 2010

Inhaltsangabe

Their love is their destiny

With his auburn hair and lean build, Kierland Scott looks more man than lycan. But his wolf instincts are aroused by the gray–eyed Morgan Cantrell. Not because of her beauty, but because of her long–ago betrayal, a fateful choice that made their love impossible.

Now, however, the two Watchmen must team up, leaving the placid Lake Country for the forests of Scandinavia. To rescue Kierland's brother, they must track a vampire—and use their combined shape–shifting sensitivities in a battle that will take them beyond death. As the two learn to seek together, they begin to understand the history that has driven them apart. But they will have to overcome death itself, if their shared passion is to have a chance.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Rhyannon Byrd is a longtime fan of romance and the author of more than thirty paranormal and erotic titles. She has been nominated for three Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Awards, including best Shape-shifter Romance. After having spent years enjoying the glorious sunshine of the American South and Southwest, Rhyannon now lives in the beautiful, but often chilly county of Warwickshire in England with her husband and family. Visit her website at www.rhyannonbyrd.com.

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Prague, Czech Republic Saturday night

The club reeked of sex, drugs and rock 'n roll.

If you can call that god-awful noise rock, Morgan Cantrell thought, wishing she'd brought along a set of earplugs. Though she was hardly an expert, the female Watchman doubted the techno trash blaring out of the club's sound system at one hundred decibels could even be classified as music. Torture seemed a more fitting description. Her eardrums—far more sensitive than a human's—were probably bleeding in protest, but she tuned out the pain, focusing instead on her target. On the man, or werewolf that she'd specifically come to track down.

Filled with every kind of depraved vice imaginable, the dark, trendy establishment was the last place on earth she ever would have expected to find fellow Watchman Kierland Scott. And yet, Morgan knew the tall, auburn-haired hunk wedged between two willowy, scantily dressed swan shape-shifters was Kierland. Even with the distance of the massive, strobe-lit room between them, she recognized the hard, rugged angles of his gorgeous face. Recognized that racehorse-lean body that looked as lethal as it did delicious. He wore a faded pair of jeans that hung low on his hips, scuffed leather boots and a soft white shirt that perfectly showcased his sun-darkened coloring and muscled physique, though she knew he would have chosen the clothes solely for comfort. Despite his outrageous good looks, he wasn't vain or pretentious. He was just pure, mouthwatering male animal. Beautiful. Dangerous. And built for sin.

Morgan's breath shortened just as her pulse quickened, and she burned under her suddenly too-tight skin, feeling as if she'd swallowed something hot and thick. It didn't matter how they felt about each other. Didn't matter that they couldn't stand to be in the same room together. Despite how much she disliked him, he always made her feel as if she'd been injected with an overdose of sex hormones…or some kind of head-spinning aphrodisiac.

Don't you mean how much you wish you disliked him?

Pushing the heavy curtain of her hair over her shoulders, Morgan tuned out the irritating voice in her head and focused instead on her surroundings, instinctively searching for any signs of danger. The establishment was obviously geared toward nonhuman clientele, as it was packed with wall-to-wall clansmen. A dynamic, diverse collection of paranormal species, the ancient clans had lived hidden among human society for centuries, the secret of their existence guarded by the organization of shifters she and Kierland worked for, called the Watchmen.

When Morgan had first walked through the door, leaving the howling January winds behind her, she'd been overwhelmed by the strong, thick scents of the varying species all roiling together on the dance floor, their sweat-slicked bodies moving in a kind of hypnotic, sexual frenzy. There were Lycans, witches, various shifters and even a few Deschanel vampires, though they looked over the crowd with the same cocky expression as Kierland, as if they found all the writhing madness a bit beneath them.

Wearing jeans and boots herself, along with a tight black turtleneck sweater, Morgan had more skin covered than any other woman in the club, which suited her just fine. She hadn't come to join the meat market. She just needed to talk to Kierland and tell him why she was there.

So get on with it, then. Don't just stand here gathering dust.

"Right," she whispered under her breath, and yet, she didn't move, her heartbeat picking up speed while her skin went cold and clammy, even with that sensual burn of heat still smoldering inside her. There were too many people, and without enough space, she could feel that familiar flare of panic that had haunted her for the past decade creeping up on her.

Taking a deep breath, she struggled to maintain control. It would be deadly to lose her cool in a place like this. There were too many predators who might seize on the opportunity to bully her. See her as easy game and move in for the kill, for no other reason than she was weaker than they were.

Descended from a freethinking line of shifters who had bred with various species from generation to generation—lion with fawn, wolf with lamb—Morgan was unable to take the shape of any specific animal, and was therefore considered "lacking" by most of the shape-shifting breeds. The prejudice sucked, but it was the nature of the beast for many of the clans. And she hadn't let it hold her back from what she'd wanted, which was to become a Watchman like her paternal grandfather had been. She'd simply trained longer and harder than her peers, tirelessly honing her skills to compensate for the fact that she could only manage a small set of fangs and short claws, and had ended up a damn good Watchman as a result. She no longer even thought of her inability to shift as a weakness, but used it to her advantage, knowing her adversaries often underestimated her.

The only true weakness she had was this nauseating fear of being crowded in by people, the sensation worse when she was indoors, without the freedom of the skies over her head. She wanted so badly to turn tail and return to the wide-open spaces of the night, but there was no turning back. Though she hated the situation, she would have to fight through it. Would have to force herself into that massive, swirling crowd if she was going to make her way to Kierland on the other side.

"Just do it," she quietly growled, her hands flexing at her sides as she took a step forward, and then another. Her vision swam and her throat started to close up as a trickle of sweat slipped down her spine, but she pushed on, refusing to give in to her fears.

Don't look at anyone but Kierland. Just stay focused on him.

It was easy to follow the mental instructions, since the Lycan was so big. So…satisfying to watch, and she wasn't the only one who held that opinion. More than a few hungry, covetous stares covered his tall, muscle-sculpted form, drinking him in, coming from women and men alike. You could literally feel the power emanating from him. The strength and deadly potential that he held under such masterful control. It was mesmerizing, drawing you closer like a spell, until you just wanted to press up against him. Touch his dark skin with the sensitive tips of your fingers, just to feel that hypnotic power pulsing and buzzing beneath the surface.

As she watched, he leaned back against the long bar, his stance casual as the blond shifters pressed in close to his sides, their looks so similar Morgan figured they must be sisters. Maybe even twins. They were exceptionally beautiful, but then swans always were, their pale skin and nearly white-blond hair denoting their species. They were also, in Morgan's experience, all a bit birdbrained…and well-known for their jealous rages. They weren't going to like her moving in on their territory—and she knew, without any doubt, that the hardheaded Lycan would be less than thrilled to see her.

He always is.

It was odd, how much that particular truth still bothered her. After a decade of discord between them, during which they'd avoided one another as much as possible, she really should have gotten used to it by now. Frustrating that she hadn't been able to master that simple concept, no matter how hard she'd tried.

She'd last seen him a week ago at Harrow House, his family estate in England and the house where his Watchmen unit had recently relocated from Colorado for protection purposes. Though Morgan herself had been a part of the Watchmen compound in Reno for the past five years, she'd joined up with Kierland's unit a month ago, after his brother Kellan had called, saying...

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Verlag
HQN
Erscheinungsdatum
2010
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0373774648
ISBN 13 
9780373774647
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
368
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
HarperCollins Publishers, Product Safety Manager
enquiries@harpercollins.ie

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