The Dark Protectors Box Set: One Night With a Billionaire Novella. A Criminal Romance Anthology. The Tycoon's Convenient Bride How to write a great review. The review must be at least 50 characters long. The title should be at least 4 characters long. Your display name should be at least 2 characters long. At Kobo, we try to ensure that published reviews do not contain rude or profane language, spoilers, or any of our reviewer's personal information.
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Close Report a review At Kobo, we try to ensure that published reviews do not contain rude or profane language, spoilers, or any of our reviewer's personal information. Would you like us to take another look at this review? It took three of us to get her back up, and without proper medical care, without proper nutrition.
When we go back to liberate her. Why talk about it? Why reopen fresh wounds? If we march in with guns blazing, they might cling to what they know and want to stay.
Colonel Lanche has done a great job of convincing everyone that the only safe place is in his camp. He gives speeches all the time, scares the shit out of everyone. Reminds us all how lucky we are to be among the survivors and to have him protecting us. We would lose everything that makes America the home of the free.
Maybe the President allowed the radio to be taken over just to get everyone focused. Trent dropped a crispy fish onto a plate and handed it to her with a fork, keeping one for himself. They do things, put messages out, stage events, that sort of thing, to influence how the enemy reacts. To get us to obey.
But you also have to realize. If this is real, if they are invading, that explains the radio broadcasts from them trying to get our cooperation. What price will I have to pay? Clarissa stood and stretched. Where should I sleep? God, every time he stood near her, her body reacted. Her pulse quickened, her whole body rushing with adrenaline. He was so much bigger than her. Thank you, I mean. Like he was taking it personally.
Trent put his hands in the air, holding them up as if to show her he meant no harm. And the bedroom door. So you can sleep tonight. He was close, not touching her, no—but the testosterone poured off of him in waves.
But not until Grand Central was freed. Trent cleared the dishes and sat back on the couch. Would you like us to take another look at this review? His voice was soft, and she relaxed a little in his presence. But now it seemed clear. Price may vary by retailer.
She could feel it in the air. Clarissa went into the bedroom and locked the door. Trent cleared the dishes and sat back on the couch. As much as he tried not to look at Clarissa, whenever she was near him. She was so beautiful, with that long red hair, and a fragile appearance that covered the strong woman he knew she was underneath it all. But what about Annie?
Even though she was a grown woman now, in his mind his sister was still about, oh, twelve years old, maybe. And annoying the hell out of him by trying to tag along with him and his friends. Trent shook his head. What was happening to Annie now? Without Clarissa around to protect her, would she be safe? Because the sooner they could move in on Grand Central, the better. Clarissa woke only once in the middle of the night—she sat up in the strange bed, her face flushed, her body feeling tingly and.
Flashes of the dream caught on the edge of her fuzzy memory. Trent, his shirt off, revealing his broad, muscular chest, lying beside her, stroking her, touching her. Clarissa shook her head, trying to clear her mind. The pillow was cool against her heated flesh. It felt good, in the dream. Yes, he was handsome. So why am I here, sleeping in his house? Clarissa shut her eyes, determined to fall back asleep. Yeah, that was true. Her clit felt swollen and needy. The house was silent, the door was locked.
Her hand found its way and she shut her eyes, gliding her fingers fast over her bud. She scurried out without looking back. The kid was tougher than he looked. A working truck, and this guy in a blue hat said he needed to speak to the man in charge.
So it was true. They were taking over. With the UN emblem on it? Bring him and all of his people to me. Lanche smoothed his hair and looked around his office—a room that had once been a storefront on a hallway off the main terminal. The broken glass where his first escapee, Emily Rosen, had thrown herself through, was covered over with plywood. Dobson came back with the four UN men, backed up by his soldier Scar. Scar was a good right-hand man in a crisis. Roughed that Evan kid up without thinking twice about it, just because Lanche told him to.
He needed more men like Scar. The men from the United Nations were in military uniforms, with baby blue scarves tucked neatly into the collars. A matching blue patch with that obnoxious world-with-olive-branches logo marked their right shoulders. And they each wore a jauntily placed pale blue beret. The one in front offered his hand when they walked in. Lanche stood, not offering a hand in return. Not to these invading motherfuckers. Might as well get off on the right foot. See what they wanted. Where were they a year ago, when the power first went out, before everyone started dying?
How many men do you have here, Ambassador? Our mission here today, however, is to deliver supplies.
And a working truck. After the Pulse, most cars had simply stopped working, their electronics fried. Only the very old trucks still worked, and Lanche had already commandeered every one he could find. Please forgive the unexpected intrusion, I know you are a busy man. That soldier thought the way he did. Besides, the UN building is not on New York soil. Through a treaty agreement with the US government, technically the building and land are extraterritorial. Dobson jumped back in surprise.
But Dobson was frozen. Scar hefted his rifle and shot the other three men. It happened so quickly. They were helping us. Now get rid of these bodies and get some of our guys out there to unload the truck. We need those supplies. I have a responsibility to keep everyone here safe. He felt high on adrenaline after killing men. It was almost better than sex. He was the only male on the Tracks.
Other than him, it was all the young, single women. It was a punishment, of sorts, he imagined.
Evan wondered if Colonel Lanche thought some of the soldiers who took liberties with the women on the Tracks would mess with him, too. So far, no one had. No one but Scar, and that was all talk. Threats meant to break him down, to make him compliant. That first night Scar had threatened to pay him a visit, Evan had stayed up all night—first, ready for a fight.
Then, resigned to getting raped. Waiting for that visit. All that fear, it was for nothing. Just another way to break him down. Because morning came uneventfully, and with it, another round of interrogations. That made him talk, how could it not? About their guns, their ammo, their mission. When night fell, soldiers came down to the Tracks, meeting with the women, offering them food, stale cigarettes, and homemade gin.
With her broken leg, Annie was an easy target. Not when they had women in other subway cars parading around naked, embracing the chance to fuck for an extra ration.
One of the good ones. God, it seemed so long ago he was in high school, getting ready to graduate. Worrying about finals and the prom. None of that mattered now. None of it existed, now. It was so fucked up. Annie whimpered and Evan moved instinctively in front of her, as if to protect her. Not that he could. The man was easily twice his size and armed to the teeth. And here I thought you were a little fairy boy. And she was a woman, anyway.
What would she want with a kid like him? She shrieked when he tossed her over his shoulder, fireman-style. He set her down in a chair, not bothering to watch out for her broken leg. I would kill him if I could, Evan thought. But some men deserved killing. A fresh spot of blood darkened his collar.