Meet the Descendants of Ra
Male descendants from the Egyptian Gods. Scars and secrets have shaped them into brutal warriors.
Can love turn them into heroic men?
|ROMAN NICOLISCursed for 2000 years, Roman Nicolis has tracked his lovers’ soul through each reincarnation only to lose her horribly every time. Reclaiming their love is his only salvation. He’s been her friend, her father, her neighbor, but never again her lover . . . until now.
FAVORITE LINE: “In two minutes, you and I will leave through your front door, wrapped in that towel or fully dressed will be your only decision tonight.”
ETERNITY Descendants of Ra: Book 1
Available on Amazon
A sign for a truck weighing station appeared. Two miles later the bike slowed and turned into the closed station. Though dimly lit, he parked in the back. On rubbery legs, Stella eased off the bike.
“We passed a hospital a few miles back—”
“We’re not going to a hospital.”
Wind whipped her hair around her face. Frustrated, she brushed the strands of her way and thrust a finger into his face. “You’re hurt! We’re going to that hospital, Roman! You’re not dying me!” The thought made her ill.
“Look at me, Stella. Take a close look, at, me.” Arms outstretched, the tattered remains of his shirt flapped in the wind. In the dim lighting healed skin flirted with her senses.
“But—” she saw him. When he ran out of the trees and onto the asphalt road, the street lights clearly showed his ragged chest. And blood, his blood soaked his shirt and pants was still there on his clothing, dry and crusty. And his back—she walked around him—the cuts were so deep that tissue and muscles surged through the wounds.
He ripped his destroyed shirt from his body. Though blood streaked his skin, he was healed. Completely. Light-headed, she swayed. Roman caught her, but she pushed way and used the steady brick building for support.
He reached for her again.
“Don’t.” Her voice stopped him a few feet from her.
“We don’t have time for this.” He scanned the area around them.
“Oh, now you don’t trust me? Don’t you think it’s a little late?” he scolded.
“Are you sorry? Sorry that I save your life, again. Sorry that I held you, kissed you, made you come?” He glowered and crowded her with his big body.
The crack of her hand connecting with his cheek drowned out the sound of speeding cars. Roman didn’t budge, not one single muscle. She met the heat of his gaze with her own scorching glare. Toe to toe, she waged war with her terror at whatever was out there hunting them, fear of how he could possibly heal so quickly, and lust so consuming her clothes were nothing more than a reminder that she should be naked and beneath him.
Lightning exploded in her head. She was afraid, but not of him. Even faced with everything she knew and the enormity of what she didn’t know, she wasn’t afraid of Roman and she wanted him. More than anything in this world, she wanted Roman Nicolis.
A police serene warbled in the distance.
“Get on the damn bike.”
His huge outline and part of his face was all was cast in the shadows, reminding her of The Strangler. She swallowed the lump in her dry throat. “You first.”
His gaze never left hers while he stuffed the shirt in a saddlebag and settled on the bike. Four short steps brought her to his sided. She swung her leg over and settled behind him. A perfectly healed bare back stared at her. Tempted her. Teased and confounded her logical higher reasoning.
What the hell are you?
He revved the engine, waiting for her to wrap her arms around his waist.
Careful fingers touched his back. It wasn’t an optical illusion. She lay her cheek against his warm, heeled skin. Her arms reached around and locked. He sighed before they tore off into the night.