Praise for the Novels of J.R. Ward Writing as Jessica Bird
âJessica Bird gives us a romance of rare depth, humour and sensuality â¦â
âRT Book Reviews on Beauty and the Black Sheep
âDramatic, edgy and intense, this story has a larger-than-life, dark hero who takes the sweet heroine (and the reader) to some exciting places.â
âRT Book Reviews on His Comfort and Joy
âJessica Birdâs A Man in a Million features a larger-than-life, irresistible hero and an equally complex, intriguing heroine. Top-notch.â âRT Book Reviews
Praise for No.1 New York Times bestselling author J.R. Ward
âTerrific ⦠explosive ⦠exciting ⦠Ward has outdone herself.â
âPublishers Weekly
âWard wields a commanding voice perfect for the genre ⦠Hold on tight for an intriguing, adrenaline-pumping ride.â
âBooklist
âJ.R. Ward has a great style of writing and she shines ⦠You will lose yourself in this world.â
âAll About Romance on Dark Lover
The boatâs engine throbbed as Grayson Bennett kept the Hacker at a low speed and close to the lakeshore. The antique, thirty-foot craft was his pride and joy, a relic of the Great Gatsby era of lake life. Made of mahogany and varnished to a shine so bright it could hurt your eyes, the Bellitas was indeed a thing of beauty. And she was wickedly fast. The long, thin design provided three discreet seating areas, marked by contoured banquettes in dark green leather. The massive engine, capable of shooting the boat through the water at speeds of sixty miles an hour, took up a good six feet of space in the middle.
He would miss her when he put her up on blocks for the winter, and the time for her yearly hibernation was coming fast. He could feel it in the air.
Even though it was the middle of the day, September was cool in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York. To take the edge off the chill, he was wearing a windbreaker and his only passenger, aside from a big, very happy golden retriever, had on a thick sweater.
Naturally, the dog had plenty of insulation.
Gray looked across the seat at the woman who stared at the cliffs they were passing. Cassandra Cutlerâs thick red hair was secured at her neck and her green eyes were hidden behind sunglasses. The frames covered up the dark circles of her exhaustion, too.
No doubt she saw little of the rocks and pine trees, he thought. Life had to be an inconsequential blur for someone whoâd become a widow only six weeks ago.
âHowâre we doing?â he asked his old, dear friend.
She smiled slightly, a tense expression he knew she worked at. âIâm glad you pestered me to get out of the city.â
âGood.â
âI canât imagine Iâm enjoyable company, though,â Cassandra said.
âYouâre not here to perform.â
Gray focused on the lake ahead as the silence was filled with the sound of the boatâs deep-throated engine and the lapping of water against the wooden gunnels. Sunshine glinted off the mahogany, flashed over the tops of the gentle waves, brought out the vivid blue of the sky and the dense green of the mountains. The air was so clear and clean that when he breathed deep, the inside of his nose hummed.
It was a perfect fall day. And he was about to shoot the hell out of his quiet enjoyment.
When theyâd left his estateâs boathouse, he could have taken them in any direction. To the south, where they could have danced around a thicket of small islands. Across to the west to see some of the other big stretches of property.
But no, heâd chosen the north where sooner or later the old Moorehouse mansion would appear. White Caps was a big white birthday cake of a house, perched on a three-acre bluff. Once the familyâs lavish private home, it had been turned into a bed-and-breakfast by them when their money had run out.
But he wasnât going to look at the property.
When the bluff appeared in the distance, his eyes narrowed. The long rolling lawn, which drifted from White Capsâ porches to the shore, was a dazzling green. Oaks and maples framed the house, already turning colors from the frosts that came at night.