Carter backed her up against the wall.
He murmured all the things they were going to do in this room, and Macyâs face flamed as hot as her body burned. The dress was an easy target for a man with roaming hands, and Carter made sure he touched every part of her. His sweet assault made her moan his name over and over, and she knew theyâd never make it to the bed.
As his kisses moved down her throat she arched for him and closed her eyes to the sensual sensation.
He stopped for a moment and she slumped against him, breathless.
âIsâ¦thatâ¦allâ¦youâ¦got?â
A deep, satisfied chuckle rumbled from his throat before he lifted her into the circle of his arms and carried her to the bed. âJust wait, sweet darlinâ. Just wait.â
At this high-stakes auction house where everything is for sale, true love is priceless.
Donât miss a single story in this new continuity from Mills & Boon>® Modern>⢠Romance!
GILDED SECRETS by Maureen Child
EXQUISITE ACQUISITIONS by Charlene Sands A SILKEN SEDUCTION by Yvonne Lindsay A PRECIOUS INHERITANCE by Paula Roe THE ROGUEâS FORTUNE by Cat Schield GOLDEN BETRAYALS by Barbara Dunlop
Award-winning author CHARLENE SANDS writes bold, passionate, heart-stopping heroes and alwaysâ¦really good men! Sheâs a lover of all things romantic, having married her high school sweetheart, Don. She is the proud recipient of a Readersâ Choice Award, and double recipient of a Booksellersâ Best Award, having written twenty-eight romances to date, both contemporary and historical Western. Charlene is a member of Romance Writers of America and belongs to the Orange County and Los Angeles chapters of RWA, where she volunteers as the Published Authorsâ Liaison.
When not writing, she loves movie dates with her hubby, playing cards with her children, reading romance, great coffee, Pacific beaches, country music and anything chocolate. She also loves to hear from her readers. You can reach Charlene for fun stuff, contests and more at www.charlenesands.com or write to her at PO Box 4883, West Hills, CA 91308, USA. You can find her on the Harlequin Authors Blog, and on Facebook, too.
Recent titles by the same author:
SUNSET SURRENDER
WORTH THE RISK
EXQUISITE REVENGE
Did you know these are also available as eBooks?Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
In memory and honor of Sandra Hyatt, a friend and fellow Desire author.
I will always remember your sweet, friendly smile and your kind heart.
Wild River Ranch, Texas
He struck a match on his boot heel and guided the flame toward the cigarette clenched between his lips. With one long pull of breath, the tip blazed to life. Carter McCay closed his eyes as images of the fallen soldiers whoâd fought alongside him flashed in his mind. He took one dragâ¦one honorary inhalation. The ritual was agreed upon by those lucky enough to have come home, all those years ago. On the first day of every month, each one of his comrades did the same. Somewhere out there, twenty-three former marines were lighting up and remembering Afghanistan.
The subtle rush of the river pulled him out of those thoughts. He leaned a shoulder against an ancient oak and nestled into the treeâs grooved bark, watching the rhythmic, nearly perfect ripples of Wild River. The water wasnât as wild as its namesake today, Carter mused. It was quiet and peaceful here, shaded from the hot Texas sun.
The dog plopped down at his feet and whimpered long and loud as the trail of smoke met his upturned wet nose.
Carter pushed his Stetson higher on his forehead and looked into questioning, soulful eyes. He couldnât blame the dog for being wary of smoke. The dog saw too much, knew too much. âYou followed me up here, pal.â
Carter tossed the cigarette and crushed it into the ground with his boot, then lowered to a crouch beside the golden retriever. He gave him a pat on the head. The dog sandwiched his head between his front paws and gave a big sigh.
âYeah, I know, boy. Youâve had it tough.â Carter ruffled Rockyâs furry neck, damn glad heâd rescued the hound from his fatherâs place. The home where Carter had grown up wasnât fit for a dog.
His cell phone pinged. Carter pulled his iPhone from his back pocket and gave a quick look. A text message from Roark Waverly appeared on the front screen. He hadnât heard from his former marine buddy in months. But he wasnât surprised that heâd leave a message today of all days. âProbably just lit one up, too,â he muttered, glad to hear from his friend. But as he read on, Roark had something entirely different to say. Something Carter had to read twice.
C. Ran into some trouble. In hiding. Get word to Ann Richardson at Waverlyâs. The Gold Heart statue is not stolen. I canât trust Waverlyâs networks. R.B.
Carter frowned. What the hell what that all about?
After his tour of duty, Roark had gotten heavily involved in running around seven continents procuring valuable artifacts to sell at Waverlyâs auction house based out of New York. Roark had been in some tough binds through the years, and normally the marine could take care of himself just fine. Carter had been on the receiving end of his friendâs quick thinking when theyâd been on street patrol in a small settlement in Afghanistan. Roark had discovered that the car Carter was about to inspect was booby trapped. Heâd shoved Carter out of the way before his hand met with the door handle, and Carter knew then that he owed Roark his life.