A LESSON IN TEMPTATION

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• THE HIDDEN HEIRESS   LOVE THE DRUMS

  “I think you should leave him,” Lana said, grabbing Damian’s hand, her fingers curling tightly around his wrist as if trying to anchor him before he could explode again. But it was too late. The chaos from earlier still clung to them like smoke. What was meant to be a simple movie night had turned into a mess—a disaster, really. They had barely settled into their seats at the cinema, trying to enjoy Love the Drum by Doones, when the situation spiraled. Lana had just reached for her popcorn when an overly bold stranger leaned in too close, his fingers brushing hers under the guise of accidental contact. She hadn’t even fully processed what happened when Damian stood, cold rage flashing in his eyes. The next thing she saw was his fist connecting with the guy’s jaw, hard and merciless. People had gasped, security rushed in, and the entire moment collapsed into chaos. Now, they were seated in a dim booth at Iraq Pacts, the low hum of conversations and clinking glasses offering som

• THE HIDDEN HEIRESS   THE RESCUE

  “You better hurry,” he said with a smirk, his gaze dragging over me in that arrogant way that made my skin prickle. I bit my tongue, swallowing the sharp retort on the tip of my tongue. Instead, I folded my arms and lifted a brow. “Oh well, I can’t dress up with you watching me.” Damian leaned against the doorframe, completely unfazed. “Okay then. I guess we’ll be here all night, because I have no plans of turning around or going to the sitting room. It’s boring there. I’d rather stay here.” I sucked in a slow breath, realizing he was dead serious. He really wasn’t going anywhere. He wanted me to— “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.” His voice was smooth, teasing, laced with something that made my pulse tick faster. I narrowed my eyes. “Oh, so that’s what this is about?” He shrugged, that damned smirk never leaving his face. “Oh yeah.” For some stupid reason, maybe frustration, maybe defiance, I let out a quiet breath and let the towel in my hand drop. I barely re

• THE HIDDEN HEIRESS   A RIDE WITH THE DEVIL

  Lana forced herself to breathe as she settled back into her chair, her fingers curling slightly against the smooth surface of her desk. Damian’s words still echoed in her mind—We have a long day ahead of us. He had said it with that usual commanding tone, the one that left no room for arguments. And she hadn’t argued. Instead, she had done the only thing she could—walked out of his office, shut the door behind her, and returned to her assistant’s desk, as if nothing had just happened between them. But now, alone with her thoughts, the problem remained. I can’t take him to Trisha’s place. That’s impossible. A frustrated sigh escaped her lips. There was no way she could let Damian meet Trisha—not when Trisha knew her secret, not when she was the only one who had helped her weave the web of lies she now lived in. He couldn’t meet Trisha, not now, not ever. But then there was Zito Whitehawk The name sent a shiver through her as she leaned back in her chair, staring blankly at her l

• THE HIDDEN HEIRESS   “WE HAVE A LONG DAY AHEAD”-DAMIAN

  The air was thick, charged with something dangerous, something exhilarating. Damian’s lips were on hers, his grip firm yet intoxicating. The world outside his office didn’t exist, only the heat, the tension, the way his body pressed into hers. Her fingers curled around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, hungry, lost. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. She was supposed to leave, to put distance between them. But here she was, melting under his touch, tilting her head back as his lips traveled down the column of her throat. A sharp voice from outside the office snapped reality back into place. “I own this place too, you know! You have no idea who I am, i will have you fired so move.”“Ma’am the boss wasn’t expecting you”A small voice pleaded from outside. Lana’s stomach dropped. Someone was coming. The door flung open just as Damian straightened, his expression a mix of irritation and forced composure. Lana, still breathless, tried to push past the mortifying reality o

• THE HIDDEN HEIRESS   BREATHLESS SURRENDER

  “Please… let me go.” Adrian’s voice was hoarse, raw from months of pleading. His throat burned, his lips cracked and dry. The damp air of the room clung to his skin, thick with the stench of urine, blood, and something rotting. A shadow moved before him. He couldn’t see it—his eyes were covered—but he felt its presence, looming, suffocating. A sharp click. The unmistakable sound of a camera shutter. “No, no, no—what are you doing?” Adrian thrashed against the restraints, the metal biting deeper into his skin. His wrists were torn, his ankles swollen. He tried to jerk away, but the rough sack over his head scratched against his bruised face, suffocating him further. A deep, amused chuckle filled the room. “I’m not the one you should beg,” the man said. Adrian’s chest tightened. The voice was cold, detached, yet oddly entertained. “Is it Lilith?” His voice cracked. “You people have taken everything from me.” “Not everything.” The words sent a chill through him. He cle

• THE HIDDEN HEIRESS   FLASHBACKS

  The air was thick with the stench of damp stone and decay. Adrian Sinclair lay on the cold concrete floor, his wrists raw from the tight metal cuffs that bound him. The dim light flickered overhead, barely illuminating the cramped space he had been thrown into. His head ached, his body stiff from weeks—months?—of confinement. He had lost track of time. The only sounds were the distant dripping of water and the occasional shuffle of footsteps beyond the iron door. The place smelled of mold, of unwashed bodies, of something metallic—blood, maybe. His own, or someone else’s, he wasn’t sure. He exhaled sharply, shifting slightly. Pain lanced through his ribs. Probably bruised, if not broken. A reminder of the last time they had come for him. They never spoke much, his captors. Only orders, only demands. “Eat.” “Stay still.” “Talk.” But Adrian had learned long ago that silence was his greatest weapon. If they wanted him to break, they would have to work harder. A scrape echoed th