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363 pages, Paperback
First published August 19, 2020
“You sent sunshine into my Black Skies Riviera. You sent hope to a broken raven, and she took its pain and unclipped its wings.”
I close the distance between us and hook a finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me. I can’t stop staring at her fucking eyelashes, and how dark and thick they look all soaked in tears. There’s a wildfire raging in her soft brown eyes and it’s spreading all the way to front of my pants.
We're bound by lies, by depravity, by injustice. But we’re also bound by two souls that fit together perfectly in the heat of these moments, when all the other bad stuff falls away.
Men like him aren’t supposed to hate kiss like that, shooting sparks into places they have no business being. I felt it all, from the heat of his possession to the lust in his touch. They call him the Raven, but really he’s a wolf—a living, breathing predator dressed up in Armani, with lawlessness dripping from his jaws.
Ielena doesn’t do ‘pretty’. She doesn’t do ‘beautiful’, either. To be honest, I don’t know what the hell she is.
Not pretty… Not beautiful… She’s something even better.
“No, she’s not pretty.” He finally opens both eyes and blinds me with calm seas and clear horizons. “She’s so beautiful she’ll make a man forget why he was fighting so hard to push her away in the first place.”
”Welcome to my casino,” I say, slipping into Russian. “I trust you’ve been made to feel welcome in my absence? I apologize for the delay. I was unexpectedly detained.”
“Nothing too taxing, I hope?” he says gruffly, sounding like a Moscow-vodka-bar-drinking-fifty-pack regular.
“Taxing in the best of ways.” I toss him a smirk. “I was busy fucking my wife for the third time today. You know how demanding new brides can be.”
The sly smile drops from his face. His hand follows suite.
Suck my dick, you bastard.
”You taste of color, Aiden Knight.”
Mine.” He groans it into the kiss, and I swallow down every drop of his possession like it’s my favorite poison.
With his broad shoulders, solid muscularity, and black ink crawling out from underneath the cuff of one wrist, he looks like a fallen angel on a trajectory straight to hell.

"We're not perfect. We're messy and dysfunctional, driven together by circumstance and linked by forces that ambushed us and caugh us unawares. But we're us. There's an us now."