ebooks     ebooks
ebooks ebooks ebooks
ebooks
new titles Top Stories Home support
ebooks
 
Advanced Search
ebooks ebooks
Fiction
 Alternate History
 Children
 Classic Literature
 Dark Fantasy
 Erotica
 Fantasy
 Historical Fiction
 Horror
 Humor
 Mainstream
 Mystery/Crime
 Romance
 Science Fiction
 Suspense/Thriller
 Young Adult
ebooks
Nonfiction
 Business
 Children
 Education
 Family/Relationships
 General
 Health/Fitness
 History
 People
 Personal Finance
 Politics/Government
 Reference
 Self Improvement
 Spiritual/Religion
 Sports/Entertainm't
 Technology/Science
 Travel
 True Crime
ebooks
Formats
 MultiFormat
 Secure eReaderebooks
Browse
 Authors
 Award-Winners
 Bestsellers
 eMagazines
 New eBooks 
 Publishers
 Recommendations
 Series List
 Short Stories
ebooks
Miscellany
 About Us
 Author Info
 Help/FAQs
 Publisher Info
  ebooks

HACKER SAFE certified sites prevent over 99% of hacker crime.

Click on image to enlarge.

The Spaniard's Blackmailed Bride [Secure eReader]
eBook by Trish Morey

eBook Category: Romance
eBook Description: Blackmailed into marriage to save her family, Briar Davenport aims to remain a virgin bride--for she despises her husband, Diablo Barrentes! But when the sexy Spaniard touches her, Briar loses all her resolve and reason! Yet despite their passion, can a marriage of convenience--born out of revenge--ever be anything more? As secrets are revealed, Briar comes to realize that with Diablo it is better the devil you know....

eBook Publisher: Harlequin/Presents
Fictionwise Release Date: July 2007


16 Reader Ratings:
Great Good OK Poor


CHAPTER ONE

IT WAS much too late for a social call.

Briar Davenport crossed the entrance hall uneasily, the click of her heels on the dusty terrazzo tiles echoing in the lofty space while a premonition that all was not right in the world played havoc with her nerves.

Late-night visitors rarely meant good news.

The chimes rang out yet again and she reined in an unfamiliar urge to yell for whoever it was to hang on. But Davenports never yelled through doors—even when their senses were strained tight from trying to work out which family heirloom to send next to auction—it was bad enough that these days they were reduced to opening them.

Her hand hovered over the door handle for a moment while she took a deep breath, trying to calm her frayed nerves and think logically. It didn't have to be bad news. Sooner or later their run of bad luck had to change. Why not tonight?

Then she pulled open the door and bad luck just got worse.

'You!'

Diablo Barrentes leant into the open doorway, one arm propped high above her head, his black-clad torso arching over hers, and it was all she could do not to reel back from the sheer force of his hard-wired body. In the spill of the entry lighting he looked more like an extension of the night sky than a man—dark and filled with untold dangers. Tonight his shoulder-length black hair was pulled back into a short ponytail that did nothing to detract from his masculinity and everything to emphasize his dramatic buccaneer looks, but it was the flash of triumph in those black-lit eyes, the slight upturn at the corners of his full lips, that turned her thoughts to sudden panic and had her fingers itching to jam that piece of timber right back where it had come from.

Instead she forced herself to stand her ground, jagging her chin higher as if it might increase her already not insubstantial height. In heels her eyes fell but an inch short of his.

'What do you want?'

'I'm surprised,' he said, one side of his mouth rising higher as if amused by her efforts to match his height. 'I half expected you to slam the door in my face.'

Oh, Lord, the last thing she needed was to be reminded of how much her fingers itched to do just that. Already her grip on the door had turned her knuckles white as she schooled her voice to clipped civility. 'Then I don't need to tell you you're not welcome here.'

'Still, I am here.'

Four words, four simple words, and yet spoken in the remnants of that rich Castilian accent like a threat. Fear tracked a spidery path through her veins.

'Why?'

'And how delightful to see you too, Briar,' he said, ignoring her question while emphasizing her incivility. But being polite was hardly a concern to her right now. Not when his accent curled around her name as if he were devouring it.

As if he were devouring her.

She shivered. If he thought that, then he was definitely reading the wrong menu.

'Believe me,' she squeezed out, battling to keep her voice even, 'the pleasure is all yours.'

He laughed, barely more than a chuckle, a low sound that rumbled, somehow insinuating itself into her flesh and right through to her bones.

',' he agreed, his eyes making no apology as they traversed her length, all the way from her eyes, searing a trail over her curves and down her designer denim-clad legs to her pink leather boots, and then all the way up again.

The slow way.

The hot way.

His eyes, heavy with raw heat and firm possession, finally returned to hers and it was all she could do to remember to breathe.

'It's been my pleasure, indeed,' he murmured.

Anger bubbled to the surface with her very next intake of air, overtaking the slow sizzle his hooded gaze had left in its wake. How dared he look at her that way—as if he owned her? He had no right! Diablo Barrentes was kidding himself if he ever thought he would possess her. He'd never even come close.

Even so, she couldn't stop herself crossing her arms over her chest. If her nipples looked anywhere near as rock-hard as they felt, he would be in no doubt as to how that seemingly lazy once-over had affected her, and she didn't want him to know about it. She would rather not have to acknowledge that fact herself.

'You still haven't told me why you're here.'

'I've come to see your father.'

'I doubt it. I seriously doubt my father would ever want to see you again—not after everything you've done to undermine his business and ruin our lives in the process.'

He shrugged, lifting his thick dark eyebrows in a way that told her he didn't care what she thought, infuriating her even more.

'Your doubts are not my concern. My business, however, is, and right now you are preventing me from conducting that business. So, if you'll just move aside?'

She straightened, not budging an inch. 'It's late. And, even if it weren't, you're wasting your time. You're the last person my father would want to do business with.'

His jaw shifted sideways as he leaned forward, his black eyes coming closer.

'Then obviously you have no idea what your father is capable of.'

His warm breath brushed her face, testosterone laced with coffee overlaid with something far more potent—

Was it ruthlessness?

Copyright © 2007 by Trish Morey.


Icon explanations:
Discounted eBook; added within the last 7 days.
eBook was added within the last 30 days.
eBook is in our best seller list.
eBook is in our highest rated list.

All pages of this site are Copyright © 2000- Fictionwise LLC.
Fictionwise (TM) is the trademark of Fictionwise LLC.
A Barnes & Noble Company

Bookshelf | For Authors | Privacy | Support | Terms of Use

eBook Resources at Barnes & Noble
eReader · eBooks · Free eBooks · Cheap eBooks · Romance eBooks · Fiction eBooks · Fantasy eBooks · Top eBooks · eTextbooks