As a teenager, Taige Branch was able to do things with her psychic gift that others couldn’t understand – except for Cullen Morgan, the boy who stole her heart. He did his best to accept her abilities, until his mother was brutally murdered – and he couldn’t forgive Taige for not preventing her death.
Now a widowed father, Cullen Morgan has never forgotten Taige. but what brings her back into his life is another tragic event. His beloved little girl has been kidnapped, and Taige is his only hope of finding her.
A LOVE THAT NEVER DIED
Working together against the clock, Cullen and Taige can’t help but wonder whether – if the find his daughter in time – it isn’t too late for the overpowering love that still burns between them…
“Try,” she said grimly. Her eyes were stark and cool, the dull, leaden gray of a winter sky. Everything about her had gone cold and distant.
Apprehension gnawed at him, but then she twined her fingers with his. “Things are moving a little too fast for me right now, Cullen,” she murmured. Her gaze lowered, and her lashes shielded her eyes from him. “I know I threw a lot at you, but none of it is easy for me to talk about. I just can’t do it right now. I don’t even know which way is up. I need some time to level out.”
A sigh escaped him. Reaching up, he cupped her chin and lifted it so he could see her eyes. “This isn’t done, Taige.”
Cullen stroked her lower lip with his thumb. He bent his head and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “We got enough going on right now, that’s for certain. But this isn’t done. And while you’re leveling out, there’s some-thing you need to keep in mind. I meant every word I said before, when I told you that I still love you and that I want you back in my life.”
Cullen slanted his mouth over hers, cupping his hand over the back of her skull and holding her still. Under his mouth, she was soft and sweet. She sighed into his mouth, and when he slid a hand up her side and cupped her breast, she arched into him with a moan.
Urging her backward, he covered her body with his. Her hands slid under his shirt, her fingers cool and agile, stroking over the sensitive skin of his lower back and then dipping under the waistband of his jeans. “You certain you want to do this out here?” she murmured against his lips. “We’re going to get sand everywhere.”
“Is that your subtle way of telling me no?” Unconcerned about her answer, or the sand, he kissed his way down her throat, pausing at her pulse and licking the soft, satiny skin.
She laughed. It was a low, husky sound, and it warmed him inside. “If I was going to tell you no, I wouldn’t mess with being subtle.”
“So is that a yes?”
With gentle but insistent hands, she pushed against his shoulders. Reluctant, he pushed up onto his hands and knees and then slowly settled back on his haunches, staring at her. A small smile danced on her lips. Her hands went to the hem of her shirt, and Cullen felt his mouth go dry as she stripped her shirt away. Under it, she wore another plain bra of white cotton. The sight of that simple white against the golden glow of her skin was damned erotic. Her blue jeans shorts rode low on her hips. The bra and the shorts did little to conceal the scars on her body: the puckered, faded scar from where she’d been shot; a thin, shallow scar on the upper curve of her left breast.
Her body was long, lean, and strong, thinner than it should be, and the sight of her was enough to lay him low. His sexy warrior. No, she wasn’t just a warrior, she was a warrior queen, and he felt like he should be on his hands and knees in worship.
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