It’s Time To Meet A New Kind Of Hero…
Dante Stark has a dark secret–a legacy left to him by his father which is both a blessing and a curse. A traumatic experience as a small boy gave him special powers of healing, but it comes with a price. Destined to wander the world alone to heal others, he’s accepted his fate. Until Selina Rogers forces him to confront his deepest fears, erotic desires, and question his capacity to love.
Selina Rogers has made a name for herself at Inferno Enterprises. She’s tough, confident and prepared to succeed. She’s also built a world she believes is safe, until she’s attacked and then saved by a masked stranger. As he helps her heal physically and emotionally, she becomes fascinated by his overwhelming power and gentle touch. Determined to show Dante the love he’s been denying himself, Selina surrenders her heart, and dreams of a future with the mysterious man who completes her.
But will his dark legacy destroy them…or save them both…
Darkness stole over his face. His features seemed carved from stone. “Someone I loved was killed. For a long time, I didn’t know how to handle it. I lashed out, angry at the world, angry at my weakness. I finally realized in order to be strong; we have to allow ourselves to feel the grief first. The rage. The helplessness. Then we can heal.”
As if they shared the same soul, pain shuddered through her body, imagining him as a boy watching someone get hurt. Someone he couldn’t help. “Is that how you got your scar?”
Dan touched his face. A lifetime of memories flickered in his eyes. “Yes. I had nights I didn’t think I could handle because of the nightmares.”
The words drove deep. Him too. Maybe she wasn’t so alone after all, but like most bad things, people kept them locked inside and refused to share. Suddenly, he reached over to her. His finger trailed down her bruised cheek with so much tenderness tears stung her eyes. “But I learned something important. Scars aren’t a weakness, Selina. They’re signs of strength because we survived.”
The truth struck her full force. Her hands gripped her coffee mug as she struggled to process this new energy between them, this intimacy that made her suddenly ache to have his arms wrap around her and hold tight. To feel his hands stroking while his lips took hers.
She froze, waiting for him to do something, waiting for him to do nothing. Last week she might have made the move. Might have. But now?
His hand dropped.
“I better go.” His gruff words broke the spell. He dumped the paper cup in the garbage and headed toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes. See you tomorrow.”
She watched him walk away and wondered if she’d ever be the same person again.
Jennifer Probst wrote her first book at twelve years old. She bound it in a folder, read it to her classmates, and hasn’t stopped writing since. She took a short hiatus to get married, get pregnant, buy a house, get pregnant again, pursue a master’s in English Literature, and rescue two shelter dogs. Now she is writing again.
She makes her home in Upstate New York with the whole crew. Her sons keep her active, stressed, joyous, and sad her house will never be truly clean.
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