Callia Honeybun wants nothing more than a chance to rest up and heal from a bad breakup. Trained in weaponry and the martial arts, Callia is nobody’s victim. However, when she crashes her snowmobile during a blizzard and wakes up in the chalet of a gorgeous man with a middle eastern accent, she has no idea how dangerous her day is about to become.
“In the name of all the woman of the world, I feel I must thank you. Though words seem so inadequate.” She told him.
Abdul watched her incredibly sexy lips move as she spoke, and inhaled the sweet musk of her breath as it bathed his face. He wanted to respond with something suitably witty, but found he was speechless against the wave of lust swamping his body.
Callia leaned in and touched his lips in a gentle kiss.
Heat flooded Abdel’s body and his pants tightened under a building need. Though relatively chaste, the kiss sent sensual shocks throughout his body, making him all but forget his self-imposed chastity.
When she pulled away a moment later, Abdel fought the urge to yank her back. His lips still tingled from her heated touch.
Abdel reached up and skimmed a finger down her jaw line, grasping her delicate chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I don’t want your gratitude, Callia Honeybun.” His voice was suspiciously husky. Sexual need was closing off his throat.
Her beautiful, gray eyes widened slightly. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
Shaking his head, Abdel settled his snifter on a nearby table and wrapped an arm around her waist, dragging her long body up tight against his. “Don’t be sorry my American beauty, it is I who should be apologizing. For what I want from you is much more tangible, and selfish.” He dragged her into a hungry kiss, his overwhelming hunger muffling an array of warning bells sounding in his head.