Max Mart

  Mrs. Allen smiled at her and clasped her hand, and Marguerite immediately covered it with her own, savoring the contact with someone she genuinely liked, who eased rather than disturbed, the familiar rather than the unknown. She realized at once her grip might be a bit desperate, for Mrs. Allen looked startled. Marguerite loosened her hold and gave the woman’s knuckles a gentle pat with the other hand. “After your friends treated you to the Staffordshire set for your birthday, I thought you’d never go back to brown Betty.”   She nodded at the little brown ball of a teapot, its surface polished to a shine that allowed her to see the impression of her own reflection, distorted and distant. The connection of their hands was magnified, as if it was the truly important part of the picture, and she supposed it was.   “Miss M, you know that was the prettiest thing. And you were right. The same tea could taste entirely different in it. I’m so glad you had us try that new brand ...

  “Marguerite?” It was Chloe who spoke. “Is this guy some kind of trouble you need me to get rid of? I could tell him you had to go early, let you slip out the back.”   There was no running from this. Maybe that was good. Yes, she decided. It was good. Time to face up to it, destroy the illusion that her mind had created around Tyler that had made her avoid him for nearly two years. Maybe that was the true motive she’d had, inviting him here. Facing this task with him would uncover the man behind the myth to her, and then she could firmly place him on the shelf with other bedtime stories. “This isn’t one of your extreme tests for yourself, is it? Marguerite, you’ve actually gotten paler.”   “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s a man, not a leap from an airplane at ten thousand feet.” Though suddenly, the first time she had done the latter seemed less daunting than this situation.   “Need a chair or a whip to meet your tiger, then?” Genevieve dispelled the moment with a twinkle...

  They call her the Ice Queen. At the exclusive BDSM club known as The Zone, Mistress Marguerite is a legend. Tyler Winterman has been fascinated with her since he’s known her, though the rules of their world say they shouldn’t share more than mutual admiration. He is her male counterpart, one of the most powerful male Doms practicing at The Zone. Tyler is convinced she is a “switch”, a closet submissive, but the truth will be even more remarkable than the theory, changing their lives in ways neither of them anticipates. Having no equal except one another in their skills at stripping a sub’s defenses bare, these two Dominants will turn their considerable talents on each other and discover that who is Master and who is slave doesn’t matter, not when two souls have found their mate. “Catch a tiger by the toe, eeny, meeny, miny, mo.”   Marguerite glanced up from her purchase order for more Vinca Rose Oolong as her hostess, Chloe Marcel, came into the kitchen area. Genevieve Wisne...

  In the Heat of the Night Stopping in front of the sanctuary’s clinic, Serena slid out of the cart and gathered up her equipment. Pushing open the door, she flipped the light switch and headed for her office. She was busy recording the information about the new wolf pups when a slight noise caught her attention. Her nostrils flared as the scent of spicy cologne wafted into the room. Before she could stop herself, she inhaled deeply. The woodsy aroma invaded her senses, and she shuddered. Damn, she hadn’t wanted to see him tonight. Thank all the gods she was leaving right away in the morning. This was not a good time to be fantasizing about her boss. The office door opened. Glancing up, Serena looked into the face of Dr. Kearnan Grey. She remained perfectly still, but her senses snapped to full alert. Something about him was different. His scent had changed; he smelled—eager. Yes, that’s what was different, the anticipation. Why? What did he want? Was that a question in his eyes? S...

  Perfumed Heat Moira gawked at the hand only a few inches in front of her. Already angry from Sylvia's comments, her blood pressure rose even higher until her temples began to throb. " Come to me" ? Who the hell does he think he is? What am I, a dog? Ready to rip off a sharp retort, she jerked her gaze up into Artemis's face. His head was bent towards her. Silvery-blond hair fell over his forehead and shadowed his smoky gray eyes that bore into hers, intense silver eyes that seemed to delve into her very soul. Shivers danced up and down her spine. Her stomach somersaulted. The smooth satin of her bra began to irritate her nipples, and they hardened into tight nubs pushing against the silk of her dress. Artemis's gaze dropped to her chest. Molten silver flashed in his eyes. Desire shot into Moira's groin. Artemis' gaze returned to her face. The hand he held out to her didn't waver. The sounds of conversation faded as Moira' s breath caught in her t...

  FANGS Maris crossed her arms and deliberately mirrored Pierce’s closed-off body language. Blast him! If she’d had the sense to arm herself before coming here, she’d be using him for target practice for being such a hard-assed whore-son of an asteroid miner. She should have known better than to let him distract her with his bare chest and those faded pants hanging dangerously low on his hips. All I have to do is reach out, give those pants a little tug and… Double blast him! The deep rumbling growl of his voice filled with shadows still had the ability to awaken forbidden desires she’d locked away inside her soul. As for her heart, forget about that, she’d given her heart to him three achingly long years ago and lost all hope of ever being happy again. She sucked in a deep breath and pushed away the memories fogging her brain. Another ragged breath helped her set aside the heat dancing across her skin with explicit intensity. Hmmm. Now that she had a few moments to think, Pierce’s...