May 15, 2014 By nhv9sl
From #1 New York Times Bestselling author Rachel Van Dyken comes the third book in the bestselling Eagle Elite Series…
“As burns this saint, so burns my soul. I enter alive, and I will have to get out dead.”
Chase Winter let the love of his life slip through his fingers and into the hands of his best friend and mafia boss of the Abandanato family. Now that he’s been given a second chance to right a wrong–he refuses to let his own selfishness stand in the way. The only problem? He’s not fully in possession of his heart, so when Mil De Lange, the girl who’s innocence he stole, and heir to the worst of the worst mafia families in the US, asks him for a favor. He actually says yes, not realizing that that one yes has the power to destroy them all.
Mil’s been in love with Chase as long as she can remember, but as the years went by, the love turned to hate, and now that he’s agreed to help her, she’s wondering if she made a fatal error. Because Chase isn’t a teenager anymore. He’s a hot blooded male, bent on owning every part of her body and soul, and willing to kill anyone in his path who dares stand in the way.
It’s time for secrets to finally be revealed…but make no mistake, it’s going to take a lot of bloodshed for those truths to be discovered.
You’ve never read a New Adult Mafia story like this before…loyalties will be tested, lovers reunited, and friendships obliterated. Welcome to the Family. Blood in–No out.
Me:Going though now
Me: Trace asked how we fly. As is our Family.
Chase:Uh, was she serious?
Chase: that made my day.
Me: Mine tooChase naked.
Chase. Was. Naked.
Damn, I wanted to run my tongue along the trails the water created. My breathing picked up – and I swore under my breath as the same towel ran down his ridiculously tight abs.Damn beautiful man. God should have at least taken pity on the female race and made him short or fat or anything but what I was starting at. I muscled god with dark skin, bright green eyes and a smile that make a girl immediately want to do anything she could to trap him into marriage.I want you to know. I want you to freaking feel. I want you to believe me when I say I want you. I like you. I trust you. I live to protect you. And I only do what I want to do…..Pick up the broken pieces of your tragically shattered heart. let me glue them back together again so you can get that damn look off your face and let me kiss you. -Chase“Screw the white knight…I want to be your savior.” -Chase
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at www.rachelvandykenauthor.com
By the time I got back to the room, Chase was in the bathroom. The shower was running, and I could have sworn I heard him singing some sort of Frank Sinatra song, but it’s entirely possible I made it up. Trace hadn’t been the only one drinking wine.
With a flourish I fell across the bed and let out a huge sigh — the type of sigh a girl lets out when she’s trying to let the person next to her know that something’s not right.
Lucky me. All I had was a wall.
Right, so I was sighing at a damn wall.
I sighed again.
Well, no time like the present. I wasn’t sure which side of Chase I was going to get tonight. The hot-as-hell arrogant asshole, who made me want to slap him almost as much as I wanted to kiss him? Or the funny, easy-going, hormonal teenager, who had left earlier this evening after staring at my boobs like he was twelve?
I smirked at the thought. Me and my sigh would take either one. The water turned off in the bathroom. The door swung open. I glanced and almost fell off the bed.
Chase. Was. Naked.
Clearly he wasn’t aware that I was in the room. He didn’t turn, just ran the fluffy white towel around his dripping body. Licking my lips, I felt my pulse jump as he wiped a few droplets that streamed down his face. Damn, I wanted to run my tongue along the trails the water created. My breathing picked up — and I swore under my breath as that same towel ran down his ridiculously tight abs. I was completely wrecked, my body strung so tight I was afraid to keep breathing — afraid that it was too loud — and I didn’t want the show to end.
“How were the girls?” Chase asked without turning around.
Aw, crap. Embarrassed, I cleared my throat and scolded my eyes for continuing to remain on his muscled body. Just one more look, I promised myself, and then I’d be fine.
“Good.” I continued my bold stare. His ass was fine. Seriously. Fine.
“You get some wine and food?” he asked, wrapping the towel around his waist. Bummer.
“Yup,” I squeaked, my voice sounding all kinds of immature.
“So,” he padded over to the bed and sat, “dinner and a show, huh?”
“I, uh—” Laughing, I scooted away from him toward the pillows. “I was going to say something, but—”
“Cut the shit, Mil.” Chase smirked. “You were ogling.”
“Girls don’t ogle.”
“Oh?” That gorgeously perfect idiotic face mocked me with every ounce of hotness. Damn Chase Winter. Damn beautiful man. God should have at least taken pity on the female race and made him short or fat or anything but what I was staring at. A muscled god with dark skin, bright green eyes, and a smile that made a girl immediately want to do anything she could to trap him into marriage.
“What’cha thinking about?” He smirked again.