From the Author
"That's Daire's bike," Moira said, grabbing a sleek silver helmet off the handle of a red Ducati and swinging her leg over the side. "Scratch her, and he'll kill you." She settled into place, flashing Conn a saucy grin. "Then I won't have to worry about it anymore."
Something thumped hard in Conn's chest. His mate straddled the bike like a natural . . . sleek and dangerous. Sexy as hell. She unclipped her hair and shook out her curls before tugging on the helmet, and he fought a groan. Hell, He fought the urge to yank her off and coax her to ride him instead.