Is it me or does this guy look like a photoshopped Ben Affleck?
(Eagle Tactical #2)
Publication date: March 26th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense
Sold to the mafia. I’m nothing more than a piece of property to my brother. Forced into an arranged marriage, I enlist the help of Eagle Tactical.
I moved in with Jaxson after the attack. It’s hard to keep my hands off him, but he’s my boss. He’s given me a job at Eagle Tactical as his subordinate.
I don’t take orders well, especially from a grumpy boss. He’s about just as grumpy as his toddler when she skips her afternoon nap.
I vowed to protect Ariella. That’s how much she means to me, but she’s gotten under my skin with her know everything attitude and sassy hip sway that has my body in overdrive.
I swore I’d never do a one-night stand. Is that what she thinks we shared? Is that why she hates me?
I don’t know how much longer I can wake up under the same roof, go to work with her, and not throw her down on the bed.
We have a mission that takes priority, but how can I keep my mind on the job when she’s always in the room, and I want to bend her over the desk?
STEALTH is book two in the Eagle Tactical series and ends with a HFN and a guaranteed series HEA.
I didn’t dare gaze into the eyes of the man who bought me. Thanks to my stepbrother, Nikolai, I belonged to Franco, his second in command in the mafia.
“Next week you’ll be my bride,” Franco said, his teeth yellowing and crooked. He grabbed my jaw and yanked my face closer to his for a kiss. His breath smelled of vomit. My stomach recoiled.
We stood outside his black sedan, the door open. I was to go with him. I’d sooner starve myself to death. That was still a possibility after I went with the man who I was engaged to marry.
Bile rose to my throat, and I swallowed the burning acid as it slid back down. I kept my mouth sealed shut, but it didn’t stop him from planting his thick dry lips against mine. His tongue pushed at my mouth rough and forceful, but I refused to grant him access. The scum-sucking vermin could kiss the soles of my feet.
I wanted to kill my stepbrother but not before I took out Franco.
Franco’s thick hand palmed my hair, his fingers tangled in my locks before he yanked hard, bringing my face to his. “Other girls should be as lucky as you.”
My stepbrother was nowhere to be found. Typical. Sell me and move on, like I meant nothing to him. I was a piece of property. That was it.
Franco shoved me toward the back door of his sedan.
Oh hell, no. I had the upper hand now, with only Franco and his driver. If I made it to his house, who knew the danger that awaited, how many men I’d be forced to fight or what other security measures would exist.
“Get off me!” I slammed my elbow into his stomach and stomped on his toes before kneeing him in the crotch.
His driver lifted his gun, pointing it at my head.
“Please, you’d be doing me a favor,” I said. I’d sooner die than marry him.
“Don’t shoot her!” Franco pushed the gun away from the driver, lowering the barrel.
I pulled back my fist, landing another blow, this one to Franco’s face before his hand yanked my hair and slammed my head into the side of the car.
The world spun and nausea swept over me.
He shoved my body into the back of the vehicle, slammed the door shut, and stomped around to the front passenger side.
“Don’t puke on the interior, Bitch.”
The car engine started.
My vision blurred, but I felt for the door handle and gave it a hard pull. Damn child safety locks. It didn’t open.
Roar. I flew back against the seat as the driver slammed on the gas. The tires squealed, and my nose tickled with the scent of burning rubber. The skyline grew smaller in the distance as we tore out of the city. Where the hell were we going? Where did Franco live?
“Where are you taking me?” I rubbed my eyes, confused and tired. The blurred vision was getting better, but I still felt like I’d been run over by a car.
“Home sweet home, Darling. We’re going to Russia.”
Russia wasn’t my home. I’d never been out of the country. My fingers stroked the white gold locket against my neck, the only token of my mother that I had left, a gift from my deceased father.
I wasn’t going to Russia or any other country with Franco.
I shoved my hand into my pocket and retrieved my cell phone. I turned it on silent and sent out a text requesting help. I didn’t know how long I had until the flight or until they searched me. I’d been foolish not to bring a knife or at the very least mace with me, some kind of weapon to defend myself.
I had memorized Mason’s number, having stalked him online. It had been years since we’d seen each other. We’d gone to boarding school together. He had joined the army after high school, and I had been sent to live with my father.
It was no secret he worked for the security firm Eagle Tactical. I couldn’t call them. It would be too risky. I hoped that their business line could receive texts. I didn’t have Mason’s personal number; it appeared to be unlisted.
Mason, I need your help. Please track my phone and come for me. I wouldn’t ask if this wasn’t life or death – my death. Hazel
It was short and to the point. It’s all I could do. I hoped it would go through and he’d come for me.
Willow has loved writing since she was in high school (many ages ago). Her small town romances are reflective of living in a small town in rural America.
Whether she’s writing romance or sitting outside by the bonfire reading a good book, Willow loves the magic of the written word.
She dreams of being swept off her feet and hopes to do that to her readers!
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