Excerpt from Irresistible Forces:

Leonardo Wright tapped his finger on the steering wheel as he drove towards his destination. Suddenly, a car going way too fast zoomed past him. Leo narrowed his eyes, recognising the night blue Audi S8—he flipped on his lights and went after the sporty sedan. From the type of vehicle, he figured the driver had been at business meetings today instead of at her store.

They continued driving above the posted speed limit. Leo knew she saw him, but she was thumbing her nose at him. Suddenly she made a turn and he clenched the wheel tightly, already mumbling the lecture he would be giving her. He followed and drove through the gates that lead to the oasis she had created. The automobile came to a screeching halt between the Sierra 2500HD crew cab and Toyota Land Cruiser, also in blue. The woman he was chasing was partial to blue. Leo parked behind her then turned off his cruiser.

Her car door swung open and one leg appeared, coming to rest on the ground. Leo studied the bare leg from the knee down until he saw the silver, high-heeled sandal. The rest of the woman came into view and he held the wheel, studying the beauty that was Deyon De’clare. She turned to face him, putting her hands on her hips. On her lush lips was a familiar teasing grin, which only made her captivating features even sexier. The face that had graced many runways and magazines—thus making her the most recognised full-figured supermodel in the world—was framed by wild, kinky hair. She wore shades, but Leo didn’t need to see her curly lashed, light-grey eyes to know they had the same teasing in them.

Although she wasn’t a model anymore—instead now a sought-after designer that catered to full-figured women—Deyon certainly knew how to capture one’s attention. She was her own best advertisement that curves were indeed beautiful, sexy and able to bring a man to his knees. As usual, Deyon was dressed stylishly. A dark royal blue with silver patchwork design shirt sloped off one shoulder, highlighting her rich caramel skin. The shorts were the same blue—without the silver—and stopped at her knees. Deyon bent into her car. Leo exited his cruiser before closing the door, gaze locked on her full ass. He clenched and unclenched his fists, aching to touch the round globes. Deyon stood, pushing her hair back with long fingers. She faced him again, holding a purse and briefcase then, using her hip, she closed her car door. Deyon strode towards him—her innate grace, power and all out sensuality of her walk another thing that made her successful as a model. Her movement had a rhythm that made his heart pound and his palms sweat. Leo kept his face contained.

"Leonardo, are you here to return my weapons?" Deyon’s melodious voice held playfulness.

Leo knew she was very serious. The question was the same one she had been asking him for a few months, just varied in the way she phrased it. It had begun around the same time she’d started calling him by his full first name instead of the shortened version as she had usually done before. Deyon pushed her shades up onto the top of her hair. She studied him.

"No, I’m holding them until you promise me that you won’t pull them on anyone again. When are you going to press charges?" he gave his standard reply.

"Admit it. You’re using my weapons. I bet they aren’t even at the station but at your house. You’re overstepping your authority, Sheriff." Deyon paused, her brow furrowing, then she said, "As I’ve told you ad-nauseum, I only pulled them to defend myself when that fool grabbed me. And for the millionth time I’m not pressing charges. I handled it, and he won’t be working for me anymore. Leave it alone, Leonardo." There was a sharp snap to her tone.

It was then that Leo noticed the strain on her face. Deyon might be acting like everything was okay, but clearly something was wrong. He noted the sweat beading on her forehead, her jaw was working and her gaze was slightly unfocused—he knew her well enough to know she wasn’t feeling well. For that reason, he’d leave the incident at her house—when a male model she had hired for a show hadn’t taken no for an answer—alone for now. Although he knew Deyon would not press charges because she’d handled it by tranqing the overzealous man before calling him, Leo still enjoyed needling her about it. Until that incident, he hadn’t realised how much an irate Deyon was a turn on. He focused on her, seeing her wavering where she stood under the unrelenting New Mexico sunlight.

"Come on into the house." He slid his hand around her waist.

It was a testament to how ill Deyon must have been feeling that she didn’t resist. She let him lead her to her house. This close to her, the scent of coconut and peaches wafted to him. His member hardened as he imagined tasting every inch of her skin, following the intoxicating aroma. Leo was grateful Deyon, who usually noticed too much, was too distracted to realise his problem—his uniform wasn’t made to hide an erection. The fragrance was from the lotion Deyon used, which she had specially made at a store in town. There was so much he knew about Deyon. She was a close friend to his sister Arissa and had, by extension, become a part of the Wright family. Leo saw neither Arissa nor Jackson’s cars were parked in their slots to the right of the house. They were staying in the two apartments that made up the second floor of Deyon’s home. The place was an architectural vision that suited Deyon very well. She’d created a haven on this land with lots of space between her place and anyone else’s.

Deyon fumbled for her keys. Leo moved her hand gently away and slid his fingers into the pocket of her shorts. He bit back a groan at being this close to the curvaceous hips he longed to be buried between. Leo pulled out the keys and efficiently opened the door, keeping his other hand on her waist to steady her. Deyon leaned against him heavily.

"I can’t believe you drove and you were feeling like this. Recklessly and fast too."

"I had to get home before it hit," Deyon mumbled.

"You don’t get them often but even you know it can be dangerous if the migraine hits and you’re behind the wheel of a car." Leo led her inside, kicking the outer door closer with his foot.

Excerpt from: Seduction's Dance

Dimitri Wright rolled the cold bottle between his fingers, his thoughts not fully on what he was doing. He swore he was in the middle of an epidemic of relationships leading to marriage—all his siblings had paired off, one after the other, and their parents were happily planning the weddings. His mother had that gleam in her eye that put dread into every man who was single and enjoyed being so. Dimitri hoped she’d turn her attention to one of the cousins next—the Wright family was large, and they should keep her busy for a while. He was one of those men who liked his life the way it was. He didn’t need a woman to change that—the thought of having to discuss feelings and all the other crap that came with being in a relationship made him want to lock himself in his house until people regained their senses. Hell, even the tentative, trying to figure out if you were even interested in each other was something he hated.

Give him an honest, blunt, straightforward woman and maybe he’d change his mind. The women who approached him were anything but that. They came at him with some excuse trying to capture his eye. But what they didn’t realise was that he enjoyed the chase. The woman he wanted could be blunt, but he was old-fashioned and enjoyed being the one to make the first move. After that he didn’t have a problem with her holding her own with him—he wanted her to. But he wanted to make the initial approach. Then if they discovered they had common interests, it was important for him to know she could share his silences as well as his conversations. He enjoyed those moments of being silent more than anything else. With his profession, he saw some of the most horrible things and just needed time to chill and be.

Dimitri rubbed the back of his neck as his thoughts turned to the fire he’d been sent to investigate earlier. There was no doubt that it was arson. The family in the home had died, all of them including the children—six, four, two and a baby. It was always so damn disheartening when there were kids involved. It was his job to find out who had eradicated the family from the face of the earth. Fire was a nasty business that didn’t differentiate based on race, ethnicity or any other demographic. Once a fire was started, its hunger took all that was in its path. Arsonists lit them for many reasons, but sometimes it was someone who didn’t even think, not knowing that fire isn’t to be played with. These cases were the ones that made his gut burn. He loved his job—investigating fires, tracking down the source, gathering evidence and finding who did it. He didn’t manage the last part all the time, but he damn well tried his best.

He thought of the open case of the serial arsonist he’d been trying to catch for the last few months. It had started with a fire in the science building at the university. There had been no fatalities, but there had been many other fires since then and in some of those, people had died. The fires seemed to be random—there was no pattern—which was making it harder to track him. Lately they had been quiet and there had been no fires with the signature Dimitri had found. Others in the community had assumed and even hoped that maybe the arsonist had stopped, but Dimitri felt in his gut they hadn’t—there was something big coming. There was something about all the cases that bugged him, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. That piece eluding him might be the one to solve the case.

The fire today hadn’t been one of the serial fires. Dimitri lifted the bottle to his lips then drank his beer. He returned it to the top of the bar, rolling his shoulders. He’d been gathering evidence and was tight around his lower neck and back, but he hadn’t felt like going home.

Absently, he glanced around the bar. It was frequented by cops, fire fighters and those like him who did business between the two places. He was actually based out of the firehouse but worked closely with the police force. The good thing was his younger brother Leonardo was the sheriff, and the cops knew him through Leo, making it easier for him to do his job. Not that he wouldn’t go around them if he needed to in order to get his job done. But he’d rather not get in a pissing match, instead preferring to just get what he needed taken care of accomplished.

“It was a tough one,” someone with a soft voice spoke beside him.

Dimitri turned his head then blinked, realising that someone was sitting next to him. He noted the two empty beer bottles in front of the woman, which meant she had been there a bit. Probably had been when he came in, since he was still on his first. He hadn’t even noticed her. Dimitri studied the woman. Her features blended in a face that he would call lovely but in an understated way. Wire-rimmed glasses covered dark brown eyes with thick lashes. Her hair was away from her face in a neat braid, the tail end resting over her shoulder. He glanced at her hand, noting she was rolling a bottle between her rich, caramel-coloured hands as he had been. Her nails were short, neatly clipped, with their natural hue. Dimitri lifted his gaze to study her closer since he thought he recognised her. He tried to place where he knew her from. Suddenly it dawned on him.

“Deputy Conner. You were the cop at the fire with me.”

The Sheriff’s department had left a different cop there since they’d wanted to keep the area protected. The officer with him had been silent and efficient, and he had soon forgotten she was there. She hadn’t tried to ask questions or engage him in conversation, for which he had been appreciative. Fire with kids hit him harder than most.

“Yes.”

That was it, no other explanation. Intrigued, Dimitri watched the woman who he hadn’t realised was by him. He remembered what she had said.

“Yes, it was a tough one.”

She nodded and drank her beer. They fell into a comfortable silence. Dimitri noted a booth becoming available and slid off the bar stool, carrying his beer.

“Let’s get the booth before someone takes it.”

The woman blinked behind her wire frames but rose as he bid and followed him with her beer to the booth. Dimitri slid into it just in time. He lifted a shoulder at the fire fighter he worked with. The man inclined his head and went to the bar. Dimitri focused on the woman. She was sipping her beer and glancing around the packed bar. She finally put her gaze on him, her eyebrow rising as if asking what he was looking at. Dimitri lifted his bottle, using it to cover his smile—Deputy Conner seemed a little prickly. A waitress came over and Dimitri ordered some food. Conner ordered too then the waitress left.