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Jesse was not expecting the blond American to walk into the cantiña where he waited for his prey, but there she was. Vibrantly beautiful, she attracted the attention of every man in the crime-infested hellhole. Every man also heard the bullets she emptied into the evil creature who snuck upstairs when Jesse’s back was turned. He’s incredulous, intrigued, and grateful – and getting her out of Mexico is now his top priority. Bea is shocked that her nemesis is dead, and stunned by the gun in her hand. She never really believed she’d do what she’d planned and plotted to do, and now that the moment has come, what happens next? Will this stranger rescue her? Or does she save him?
[A novella of approximately 10,000 words, this is a stand alone story containing adult situations and language.]
(Sample of) Los Ángeles Vengadores
by Elle Q. Sabine
Copyright 2014 by Elle Q. Sabine (firstname.lastname@example.org).
All rights reserved, do not reprint in paper or electronic form without prior permission of the author and publisher. By reading further, you are stating you are of legal age to read this text in your locale.
They’d needed the sex – both of them. Without being told, Bea knew that’s what it was, too. Sex. A simple fuck. It wasn’t just the lack of softer emotion in Jesse’s touch or sensitivity to the fact that he hadn’t kissed her. She simply knew, deep inside, that his heart was shuttered as tightly as the emotions he kept from his eyes and face. Bea read more from his body language than from his eyes and mouth, and was certain he was the sort of man who said more by his silence on certain subjects than through discussion.
He cared for her, Bea thought, staring through the window as the moon rose. He cared what became of her. He felt the obligation deeply, and had made himself responsible for her safety – for returning her to the United States without connecting her true identity to Manuel’s murder. Bea didn’t need to be told he would never be at peace if he lost her to Manuel’s cronies. For Jesse’s sake – for the survival of his heart and soul – she had to escape, even at the cost of himself.
Jesse wanted her, too, lusted fiercely. It wasn’t about her, though. Whatever desire for Bea that he’d brought to their bed had been coupled with a need for affection and a desperate plea for faith in humanity; afterward, he drew back in the grip of a reaction she had understood. Oh, he was more at ease with her physically. His hand now rested in the small of her back, and when he’d joined her in the bed, he’d tangled a hand in her hair and tugged her face down to his shoulder. But the reserve she glimpsed indicated clearly his desire for emotional distance.
He’d been hungry, carnal and hotly impatient to fuck her, but it had been exactly right in the moment they’d shared. It wouldn’t always be exactly right.
Bea sighed into the night and wished for escape. How she wished to escape. Ana would have reveled in the adventure, and in Jesse, but now that the deed was done, Bea wanted nothing more than a mindless week to grieve. Every hour it was harder to put away the need to rail and scream and curse at whatever providence that had stolen Ana. Every day it was harder to wake up and fight again. Every hour she prayed to be free to shed every tear, until her head cleared and she had laid Ana’s soul to rest alongside her own body.
Instead, she stayed awake in the bed…