Storm Force












ISBN Digital: 978-1-62830-739-9
Page Count: 93
Word Count: 22324
Rating: Mature


Part of the Lobster Cove Series

When heavy weather throws arrogant lobsterman Ross Bennson up against Coastguard Surfman Calla Hutchins, the storm raging outside has nothing on the internal tempest stirring between the two. She's used to being in charge, and he's not keen on taking orders. Can they calm the furies that set them against each other, or will their destinies be blown off course?

Excerpt:

Calla turned, expecting to maintain a calm and authoritative demeanor. Instead, the minute she looked at him she felt like she’d been sucker punched.

Ross stood six feet tall, his shoulders broad and muscled from what Calla figured was years of pulling traps. The hair she’d imagined curly now tickled his nape as it dried and showed appealing bits of gray at the temple that begged for fingers to comb it through. But what really held her, in a mouthwateringly heart-stopping way, was his face. Weather-beaten and tanned, there was nothing gentle in his look. His dark eyes, misshapen nose, and square chin all screamed hard and determined. This was one man who didn’t like being told what to do. Well, fuck him. As attractive as she found him, Calla had a job to do, and nobody screwed with protocol on her watch. First things first, he’d left the hatch behind him wide open.

She threw the blankets on one of the survivor seats and strode past him to close the QAWTD. “It’s called a water-tight door for a reason.” Trying to regain her equilibrium, Calla gave her next order. “Now take off those clothes.”

Shit. Calla almost groaned out loud. She didn’t mean for the words to come out like that. She only meant that he needed to get warm…not naked. Hell, no! Where were her brains? Probably in her perky and attentive nipples, which were suddenly picturing him stripped to the skin and weren’t getting the memo to behave. But damn it, how could she back off now?

“Excuse me?” Ross’s imperious eyebrows rose.

Calla had the misfortune of meeting his gaze again and was nearly singed from the lustful heat in his slow appraisal of her, from head to foot.

“You heard me."



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