A Touch of Heaven (8 page)

Curving his hand around my breast, he stares at me solemnly. “I’ll never lie to you, Miranda. There have been no others. But I was given a certain amount of human genetic memory to help me interact, and luckily it contained knowledge of sex and lovemaking.” He gives a little shrug. “Something I’ve been allowed to keep, although a lot of my other memories I’ve had to jettison.”

Part of the deal, I suppose. I scan his face for regret, but see none. “What did you have to give up, Patrick?”

He kisses my cheek, then my throat, before replying. “The millennia I’ve spent as what I was, precise details of where I came from.” Cupping my cheek, he looks into my eyes, his gleaming clear and blue. “But don’t worry, that’s for my benefit and yours. It would be difficult to live as a normal human man, the same age as you, when I had the thoughts and recollections and acquired knowledge of an uncountable number of years inside my brain.” He gives me a soft, reassuring kiss at the corner of my mouth. “As it is, we’ve been placed on what you might call an even playing field, my love, and from now on we can live together as equals.”

I surge against him, feeling happier and happier and luckier and luckier with every beat of his human heart. This is what I always wanted. A lover who
is
an equal match, in every respect. Not a much older man who’s going to die before I do. Not a younger man who’ll always cause me doubt.

I’ve finally found my perfect man. Or perhaps he found me when he fell from heaven into my life.

And as we start to make love again, I relish the years ahead.

About the Author

Portia Da Costa is a multi-published British author of romance, erotic romance and erotic fiction. Her novels have been published by a variety of different houses, both in the US and the UK, and translated into many languages including German, Spanish, Italian, Dutch, Norwegian and Japanese. Portia has been writing for publication since 1990, and has had over twenty novels and 100 short stories published. She has contributed to many different short story anthologies and women’s magazines. She lives in the heart of West Yorkshire, UK, with her husband and her cats. When she’s not writing she can be found reading, watching TV and movies, hanging out on Twitter, and enjoying online life in general. She was formerly a librarian and has also worked in local government. To find out more about Portia visit www.portiadacosta.com, find her at her blog wendyportia.blogspot.com or follow her at http://twitter.com/PortiaDaCosta

Look for these titles by Portia Da Costa

Available Now:

Far From Perfect

Enduring passion, turbulent emotions, and an engagement of convenience…

Far From Perfect

© 2011 Portia Da Costa

At age twenty, Anna Felgate rid herself of her unwanted virginity with the one man she adored—Nick Lisitano, long-time family friend and legendary lover. But that one taste of passion branded her soul for all time—and still casts a long shadow, four celibate years later.

Their single night of matchless lovemaking left Nick racked with remorse for taking advantage of Anna’s innocence. Thanks to his parents’ stormy marriage, he’s sworn off commitment, but believes Anna deserves deep, enduring love, not a temporary liaison.

In the intervening years, they’ve managed to keep a cordial distance, but when a crisis in Nick’s family brings them together again, Anna is shocked by Nick’s daring plan to cheer up his dangerously ill father—a temporary façade of an engagement. Against her better judgment, she agrees to it, fully aware of the emotional minefield yawning before her.

As if destiny has been waiting for them to touch once again, their volcanic mutual attraction reignites, threatening to burn the terms of their pragmatic bargain to ashes. Each begins to wonder privately if their passion can become permanent—or whether it will crumble under the weight of past sins and present secrets…

Warning: This book contains a red-hot ’n’ sexy blond Italian businessman with the face of an angel, the body of a god…and a caring but carefully shielded heart. He enjoys fast cars, fast living and slow, sumptuous lovemaking, and his “cure” for the heroine’s headache makes it well worth faking another!

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Far From Perfect:

“We have to talk about that night, Anna. We’ve danced around it since it happened and it’ll only fester if we leave it any longer.”

“What’s to discuss?” Anna held his gaze, and the lack of fear in her eyes was awesome, almost warrior. He wasn’t the only one who’d pulled himself together. “I made a mistake…and you informed me of it in no uncertain terms. There’s nothing more to be said.” Her voice was steady, but huskier than before. And the blush in her cheeks was pinker, hotter.

Oh hell, he wanted her more than ever.

“It was a lot more than that. And we need to talk about it.” He moved to push his hands in his pockets, then thought better of it and crossed his arms in front of him.

Suddenly, Anna was on her feet, fists clenched at her sides. “Yes, there was a bit in the middle that you seemed to enjoy—quite a lot as I recall! But after that, all I remember is you suddenly turning into the Reverend Father of Good Sense and Moral Rectitude and preaching me a sermon along the lines of ‘You young idiot!’ and ‘How could you be so stupid?’ and ‘
Per Dio
, what on earth were you thinking?’”

Per Dio
indeed! That night he’d lost his cool completely, just as he was in serious danger of losing it now.

There had been a delicious, drowsy awakening, then shocked realization, then an almost fatalistic slide into the most soul-drenching pleasure. And afterwards, another rollercoaster plunge, but this time into another realization. The fact that he’d just had sex with exactly the type of woman, exactly
the
woman whom he shouldn’t have allowed himself anywhere near.

Remorse had shocked him in its agonizing intensity. Anna hadn’t been one of his no-strings sophisticates who knew the score. Not then, and maybe not now. His plan was stupid…stupid, but he couldn’t forget the way his father’s weary eyes burned with hope at the mention of her name.

And yet, there was the other thing too. The need to get past that night, exorcise their demons and move on properly. Surely she wanted the same? Or was he just fooling himself so he had an excuse to bed her again? His thoughts whirled, round and round, and his temples ached from the urge to shake his head again.

“I was harsh. I shouldn’t have been. I admit that.” It seemed a hollow concession at best, and he hated the memory of her lovely face crumpling in distress.

“And presumptuous,” she flung back at him, “and arrogant.”

“Okay, yes, it was arrogant of me to presume that because you wanted to fuck me you’d expect me to get into a serious relationship with you afterwards.” Odd voices, yearnings, muttered in his head. “And it was a shock realizing you were a virgin…it was…was a responsibility.”

“Which you don’t like. I know that. I only wanted to get rid of my virginity with a man I knew was likely to be pretty damn good in bed.” Anna’s delicate chin came up as she spoke. Her expression was determined and brittle and he didn’t like it at all. “I picked you because I knew you were a player and you could get the job done.”

Sudden outrage barreled through him, but at her or himself, he wasn’t quite sure. Nevertheless it swept aside all better judgment and pragmatism. It was one thing to have a reputation as a seasoned stud—deserved, admittedly—but to be told he’d been chosen purely as a stallion hurt like a punch in the gut. Especially as he still wasn’t sure she was telling the truth.

He wanted a drink. He wanted to clear his head, which was suddenly aching. He wanted release, and whether it was emotional or just pure sex, he didn’t care.

“Well, in view of the fact that I never asked you for specifics at the time…was I satisfactory?” he demanded, “Did I ‘get the job done’, as you so delicately put it?”

To his surprise, Anna laughed. A light, sexy laugh that should have broken the tension, but didn’t. “Nick! You are kidding, aren’t you? If you couldn’t tell from all the—” her eyes skittered away just a second, and she swallowed furiously, “—all the fuss I made, then you obviously aren’t the all-conquering sexual love-rat everyone believes you to be.”

“Reports of my sexual prowess have been greatly exaggerated,” he murmured dryly, but inside he found a smile, stupidly pleased at the idea of “getting the job done” and well.

Because she’d pleased him.
Per Dio
, how she’d pleased him. He’d never had quite the same sublime experience since, and he’d had lovers who were world-class beauties, sexually voracious and practiced seductresses to boot.

Looking down at Anna’s face, he saw courage and fire in every perfect contour. Her mouth was luscious yet determined and her eyes held his, not quailing, not hiding anything.

She
did
want him, but she was wary. Her slender body had an almost feline quality of readiness, as if she were gathering herself to dart away from him if he made the slightest wrong move. Either that or she was poised to attack him. Even ravish him.

But everything about her made him want to launch his own counterattack. To haul her against him and kiss her until the last sub-atomic particle of hostility in her had melted and she was eager and aroused in his arms. As eager and aroused as he was.

Instead, he dropped onto the sofa again, taking care to observe her personal space while every fiber of his being howled at him to invade it. “Is that what you think of me? That I’m a love-rat?” He patted the seat beside him, and felt a ridiculous, almost boyish happiness when she sat too.

He recognized his peril when close proximity surrounded him with the delicate drift of her perfume. It was very light, yet as rich as a basket of summer flowers, and it was exactly the same fragrance she’d worn in bed at Villa Rosa. It had been the only thing she’d been wearing that night and it had filled his head with madness.

As it did now.

“It’s a pretty crude way of putting it, but essentially…yes.” She glanced down at his thigh, and hers, almost touching, and he could tell she wanted to move, but he wasn’t quite sure whether away or closer. “According to those—” she nodded to a pile of shiny magazines lying on the nearby coffee table, “—and what everybody says, you do seem to work your way through a lot of women.”

“So you believe the made-up tales of trashy magazines and evil-minded gossips?” he murmured, irrationally wounded, but knowing he shouldn’t blame her. He as good as promoted that image of himself, so his lovers wouldn’t be cruelly disappointed when forever wasn’t on offer. “I’ve always credited you with more intelligence than that, Anna.”

Nick felt an intense desire to defend himself. Take her by the shoulders, look deep into her intelligent green eyes and convince her by sheer force of personality that he wasn’t the unprincipled womanizer the sensationalist press and his self-created persona portrayed him to be. But what would be the point of that? She was safer thinking he
was
a womanizer.

If you go casting love spells, be careful what you wish for.

A Touch of Magick

© 2010 N.J. Walters

Spells, Secrets and Seductions, Book 1

Rhiannon Sparks admits she’s not a very good witch—she can’t even light a candle without a match—but she keeps trying. At least her talent for business has made her magick shop a huge success. Now if only there was even the faintest flicker in her nonexistent love life.

During a night of eating and drinking, she and her girlfriends cast a candle-magick spell for hot sex. All in good fun, of course. Except Rhiannon accidentally mixes up the words. Instead of a lover, she asks for true love.

Deputy Ryland Stone’s past keeps him firmly rooted in reality. Then he meets Rhiannon and sparks literally fly. One date leads to another, and then they’re practically setting the bedroom on fire…until she reveals the deal breaker.

Though love and magick have found Rhiannon at last, getting a handle on her newly unleashed power is the least of her problems. Unless Ryland accepts that magick exists, he will never accept her for who and what she is.

Warning: This book contains a simple candle-magick spell, which you use at your own risk, a disastrous date, phone sex, and enough sizzle to practically set the sheets on fire.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
A Touch of Magick:

She stepped back and looked at the two women she loved liked sisters. “I still think we all need to get laid.”

They both laughed, as she’d hoped, and the atmosphere was lightened once again. “What do you propose?” Esther appeared intrigued by the idea.

“Something simple. Like I said, I’m not a very good witch. I’ve got issues.”

Maggie giggled. “You need a self-help group or something.”

Rhiannon laughed in spite of herself. It wasn’t a topic she usually found funny, but she supposed it did sound a bit ridiculous.

Esther shrugged. “I’m in. What can it hurt?”

Both of them looked at Maggie, who held up her hands in mock defeat. “Okay. I don’t think it will work, but I’m game.”

Pleased that her friends were willing to try her experiment, Rhiannon went over to the large oak cabinet dominating almost one entire wall of the dining area, and pulled open one of the drawers. This was where she kept all her magickal supplies. It only took her a moment to collect what they’d need.

“Let’s go outside. The moon is almost full and will add power to our spell.”

She headed out the back door with her friends tight at her heels. Abigail slipped out with them and raced ahead, down the steps and into the secluded yard.

The long cotton skirt she wore fluttered in the light breeze. The air was crisp, but it wasn’t too cold. The moon hung like an orb in the sky, illuminating the garden. Rhiannon loved this time of year. There was so much magick in the air you could almost touch it. An owl hooted in the distance.

The large yard was one reason she’d bought this house. With mature trees and no close neighbors, it gave her the privacy to practice any rituals or spells she chose. Plus, she enjoyed the feeling of being alone in her garden.