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REVIEWS for Torrid Hearts

4 Cups: "Ms. Samantha Lucas has written a hot, steamy and deep romp full of mind blowing episodes of great intimacy and tenderness. Sarah guards her heart with a quicksilver ability to change instantly while Drago’s determination to show her love in all its many faces is both endearing and commendable. I was captured by the first paragraph and had to complete it in one sitting. I truly enjoyed the interaction between Sarah and Drago, their intelligence sparking lively conversations and complex sharing. I loved this book."  —Kathy, Coffee Time Romance

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EXCERPT

Drago had no idea what he was still doing there. His Phoenix had fulfilled her duties for the evening. The bartender told him she only danced twice and the second time, adorned with the sheerest wings of gold, she'd once again managed to freeze his brain and leave him a witless moron. Once again, he watched her work the crowd, picking small, insignificant men to lavish her attentions on.

For the most part the men were inconsequential, but at one point Drago watched one man circle her in his arms and a surge of testosterone had him storming to rip the man's arms from his sockets. Fortunately, one of the bouncers got to him first, efficiently removing his arms from The Phoenix without bloodshed, thus saving the man from a lengthy hospital stay and—he had to admit—saving himself from a lengthy prison stay.

He had no illusions about her by evening's end. She was an actress, a seductress, and more than able to handle herself. He watched her walk the edge, enticing the men just far enough, never more. She was a master at deception and though he knew that, he still wanted her. He found himself intensely curious to know who she really was beneath the wig, without the costumes, or the sweet fake smile and pleasant laughter.

Thoughts of her body open to his exploration, his hands touching her, burying his nose against her skin, in her hair, in her pussy, kept him in a constant state of arousal.

He wanted to breathe her into his soul so she'd always be there. He wanted to know everything about her, wanted to claim her in the most primal way a man could claim a woman. He wanted her so sated by his hand, his mouth, his body, that she wouldn't be able to move. Wouldn't leave him. Ever.

Unfortunately, by this time, she was probably long gone, while he still nursed his latest bourbon like a pathetic lovesick schoolboy.

"I'm curious."

The soft voice moved over him like an ocean breeze, feminine, carrying a scent of renewal and promise. He'd either had way more to drink than he thought, or she had crept up to stand directly behind him. Slowly, he turned the chair to find out which.

When he saw her, she was still dressed—or undressed, as the case may be—for work. A soft fall of platinum hair brushed her bare shoulders, she wore a shawl made from a loose weave of iridescent blues and greens, with only a pair of silk panties beneath it.

Christ, he wanted to touch her again. Thought he could honestly die from the wanting of it. He bit the inside of his cheek, hoping to render her spell a little less potent.

"What would someone as lovely as you, obviously the queen of her court, be so curious about that she deigned to walk among the mortals?"

He couldn't believe how even his voice had come out. His hand was shaking. He fisted it at his side and watched as she seemed to be having similar troubles. She slowly, deliberately took in several deep breaths. Her fingers twitched. He saw her eyes dilate and caught a hint of her scent. She was as wet for him as he was hard for her and that knowledge brought him precariously close to the edge of coming right on the spot.

She slowly came up beside him and leaned against the bar. He caught the softest scent of rose, vanilla and musk as it wafted past him. The club was just this side of closing and the crowd had dwindled to only a handful, making it easy to hear her breath as it escaped her lungs.

"I walk among the mortals all the time." She tipped her chin up, playing into the image he'd given her. "However, normally I'm long gone by this hour. Beauty sleep and all."

She gave him a miniscule smile, and he obliged her with a slight nod. Her smile widened. "Not the flatterer?"

"Did you need me to be?"

Her eyes narrowed for a second, one side of her mouth hitched. Drago could only imagine how incredibly beautiful she'd be if she truly smiled.

"No. Honestly I'm grateful you're not." She released a breath, her shoulders relaxing some. Drago responded by turning towards her in his chair. He didn't dare touch her. He knew she'd be like a rabbit, if he reached she'd run and he had no intention of losing her now. Sitting this close, he could see her skin was lightly dusted in gold powder that made all of her glow faintly.

"Surely you must hear all night how beautiful you are, but I'm still waiting to find out what has you so curious. I have the terrible feeling it has something to do with me, but I can assure you the rumors about me and one of your bouncers were greatly exaggerated." He gave her a wicked smile. "We only dated casually. It was never serious."

Laughter shot from her mouth, her hand going quickly to cover it so Drago could no longer see it, but her eyes… ah, her eyes sparkled. Just like he'd imagined. He raised one brow at her and angled his head marginally closer.

"Now you're curious and amused."

"True. And because you've so amused me, and no one ever does, I'll drop the silly act and just tell you straight out. There's a pool going on backstage and I wasn't allowed to leave before I had my shot at you. But seeing as you're hung up on one of the bouncers, I don't suppose you'll accept my offer, either. Well, I think that news will make all the girls sleep better tonight, anyway."

Drago's sharp bark of laughter surprised even himself. Up until moments ago, he would have sworn he didn't have any laughter in him. He reached out and brushed bangs from her brows and gave her a knowing look.

"So what color is it really?"

Her mouth opened softly.

"This is my best wig. How'd you know?"

He captured a few strands between his thumb and finger and rolled them, capturing her pale gaze with his.

"This hair is harsh. Yours isn't."

She leaned back infinitesimally.

"How would you know?"

Drago leaned on the bar, his face so close to hers now that it would take only a fraction of movement to claim her mouth in a scorching kiss.

"Because I've dreamt it."

He felt her breath against his lips, making his cock stiffen further. He was so close to reaching for her that he bit the inside of his cheek again.

"Do you find that helps?"

He said nothing so she pointed at his face. "Biting your jaw like that. Is it to keep you from saying something you shouldn't?"

"No." He stared at her a long minute wondering if she'd always be able to see through him where others never had. "I do it to distract my body from feeling things I wish it weren't."

Her eyes got large and round, and her lush mouth formed a small `o'.

"Feelings for the bouncer. Is it Gregory? Because I always suspected him of that lifestyle."

For the second time in minutes Drago found himself laughing heartily. Damn, but it felt good. He leaned on the bar again, whispering conspiratorially, "What's the pool about?"

She shrugged, the movement managing to shift her breasts under the delicate shawl so he had a most excellent view of two flawless nipples. Hard and erect, they begged for his touch.

Soon.

Not sure if he was assuring her nipples, or himself, but soon he would roll his tongue over those beautiful tight nubs, suck and bite on them until they glistened from the moisture of his mouth. Then he'd run his thumb over one while he worked the other with his tongue, switching when she began to writhe beneath him, begging for his touch elsewhere, begging for his cock deep inside her. Then he'd...

"Who you'd let give you a dance."

Her matter-of-fact reply both stunned and intrigued him. "Really?" As she was the only woman in the club not to offer, he gathered she hadn't been part of the pool, but then, hadn't she just admitted to it being her turn? Or had that simply been a manifestation of his wishful thinking?

"So is that why you're here now? To offer me a dance?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, obscuring the all-too-brief view and leaned away from him.

"No." Her tongue ran over the underside of her top lip. Head cocked to one side, she seemed to be sizing him up, much like the way the owner had earlier. "I just came to find out why you said `no' to everyone else."

He smiled. "Hence, curious."

She smiled. "Exactly."

Her hand was splayed on the bar, so Drago ran one finger along the top of her soft skin and reveled when he saw the breath freeze in her lungs.

"Why didn't you ask?"

She slid her hand away from his.

"I wasn't interested."

She pulled the shawl that much tighter around her, as if the fragile woven piece had some mysterious protective force or as if it wasn't entirely see-through. Drago gave her a wicked, knowing smile, brought his face within a breath of hers, and uttered two simple words.

"You lie."

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