Your Exclusive Invitationâ¦
Join us for the most sinful & decadent event of Mardi Grasâthe Bacchanalia Ball. Entrezâ¦
Tonight, a masked man escapes the revelry and glimpses a breathtaking woman undressing in the window below. A naughty showâfor him. Desire sparks between themâ¦until the blinds come down.
Software developer Alyssa Vaughn has reason to hate damnably hot nightclub owner Beckett Kayne. Mostly because heâs trying to put her out of business. But Beckett has a secret heâs keeping from her. By day theyâre rivals. By night, he dons a mask and brings her most wicked fantasies to life. Until the Bacchanalia Ball, when Alyssa puts on her own maskâ¦and his comes off!
âTouch me.â
âNow? Here? Where anyone and everyone could see?â
Swallowing hard, Alyssa nodded. She didnât care. Was far beyond that point. Everyone acted crazy during Mardi Gras, she rationalized.
A tortured growl rumbled through the strangerâs chest. The echo of it vibrated across her own skin.
Pouring every ounce of need into the connection, she met his devouring kiss and matched him. She wasnât content to simply acquiesce, but demanded a piece of him. Her teeth scraped across his bottom lip. Her tongue darted in to get a better taste.
Until he stopped, and pulled back.
âLast night I went home frustrated that youâd teased me, turned me on and then shut me out. Tonight itâs my turn to walk away.â
It hadnât just been a figment of her tired, deprived, overactive imagination.
âUnlike last night, I wonât torture you with the possibility we might never finish what we started. Let me assure youâ¦we will.â
Dear Reader,
The concept for Captivate Me came to me while I was listening to a fabulous Halestorm song. The idea of being invisible and ignored intrigued meâ¦. Well, more the idea of finally being seen! We all want to be seenâto be important and wanted. After years of living in the shadows, thatâs exactly what Alyssa gets from Beckett. And what better time to lose her inhibitions and explore her inner vixen than the steamy days and sultry nights of Mardi Gras!
Beckett, on the other hand, prefers to stay behind the scenes, watching others let loose in his nightclubs. Heâs tired and a bit cynical, but when he catches sight of a beautiful stranger undressing in her window, heâs intrigued. Alyssa surprises him, and for the first time in a long while makes him want to be a little bit wildâwith her!
I hope you enjoy Beckett and Alyssaâs story! Iâd love to hear from you at [email protected], or stop by and visit me on Facebook and Twitter.
Best wishes,
Kira
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kira Sinclair is an award-winning author who writes emotional, passionate contemporary romances. Double winner of the National Readersâ Choice Award, her first foray into writing fiction was for a high-school English assignment. Nothing could dampen her enthusiasmâ¦not even being forced to read the love story aloud to the class. However, it definitely made her blush. Writing about striking, sexy heroes and passionate, determined women has always excited her. She lives out her own happily-ever-after with her amazing husband, their two beautiful daughters and a menagerie of animals on a small farm in North Alabama. Kira loves to hear from readers at www.kirasinclair.com.
Iâd like to dedicate this book to a group of people who have meant everything to me. I wouldnât be here without you guys. Thank you to everyone in Heart of Dixie for your support, encouragement and, of course, drinks at conference.
1
A PERFECT BLEND of the absurd and obscene. That described the French Quarter during Mardi Gras. Scantily clad women strolling beside men in cat costumes and stilts, all while evangelists screamed about the perils of sin.
Excess. Excitement. And that ever-present air of danger...because just about anything couldâand didâhappen.
Strangers rubbing against strangers because that was the only way through the wall-to-wall humanity. Heat and hedonism. Music, loud voices and raised laughter filling every available inch of space.
All around him, the party raged. But Beckett Kayne didnât care.
Leaning against the railing, he watched dispassionately as the crowd beneath the balcony swelled. Beside him Mason Westbrook, his best friend since childhood, held out several blinking LED necklaces. Shaking them enticingly, he yelled something crude.
Two women, wearing short, flared skirts and bustiers, giggled up at them with glassy-eyed interest. They clung together, no doubt keeping each other from falling flat on their wasted asses.
âYou know what you have to do to get âem,â Mason taunted.
One of the womenâand Beckett used the term loosely, because if they were a day over twenty-one heâd be damn surprisedâshook her head slowly. Considering he owned a series of nightclubs scattered in major cities across the United States, heâd gotten pretty talented at spotting minors.