Excerpt of Dishonorable Intentions:

Taking her hand, he led her towards their host and hostess. With each step she struggled to keep up for fear that if she didn’t he would simply allow her arm to be jerked out of the socket rather than stopping to wait. Half way across the ballroom, she pulled at her arm, making one last feeble attempt to flee. All her efforts gained her a callously whispered warning from Aiden to stay put. Left with no other option, she walked beside him, managing to sustain a pretense of docility that completely parried the affronted ire burning inside her. As they exited the house, she risked a small triumphant smile, pleased with how well she had carried out her performance and convinced that her husband believed the farce.

Her hopes were quickly dashed when Aiden, regarding her across the interior of the carriage, sent her an acerbic expression that served as an irrefutable warning that he wasn't fooled.

“You might as well stop acting like a meek little chambermaid,” he told her. “You know as well as I that you are currently contemplating whether you would prefer to see me hanged or skewered.”

“Am I?” she asked, innocently fluttering her eyelashes, her fear manifesting itself as rebellion.

“Do you remember what I told you about lying to me, Jezebel?” Aiden inquired his words, though phrased as a statement, carried the marked severity of a command.

“Yes,” she replied, “every egotistical word.”

“I’m warning you, sweetheart.” His voice took on a quality that was comparable to smooth steel. “You’re pressing your luck.”

            
Excerpt of Stranger by Morning:

       The night outside the Oberoi Suite was peaceful and silent. In the courtyard below, hundreds of candles lent an otherworldly glow to the gleaming white tiles and moonlight darted off the calm surface of the Caribbean blue pool. Suddenly a deep groan disrupted the tranquil night, followed by an almost inaudible thud. The thief, still holding the terrace rail, pulled in his rope and left it lying in an inconspicuous pile behind a lounge chair. He might need it again. Spreading his lock picks in his fingers, he chose one of the smaller pieces and slid the rest back into his pocket. It took five or six painful minutes of tapping and prodding inside the lock before the pins finally gave way. His hand covered by a baby blue latex glove, he nudged the door open and glanced around inside the suite. At four in the morning, it was safe to say nobody would be moving about, but you could never be too cautious. It took him a few brief seconds of surveying the room for him to locate his prey. She was lying in the middle of the bed, deep in sleep, unaware of the world around her. In addition, she was alone, exactly as he’d hoped she’d be.

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