Steamy scene from The French Encounter

‘Let me go!’ Katrina gave a startled shriek as strong arms grabbed her from behind, hoisted her in the air, and slammed her against a hard chest. She struggled, bucked, kicked as moist heat penetrated the flimsy barrier of her clothing—Jean’s heat. He held her clamped to him, against a thudding masculine wall.

A tangy mix of male heat and sexy cologne invaded her nostrils as she was turned roughly to face a glowering man who was walking her to the wall, while he held her high above the floor with his hips pressing against hers.

‘If you ever raise your hand on me again, Katrina, I’ll hit you back,’ Jean said with soft menace, almost crushing her with his strength. She landed another kick on his shins as if to defy him. Jean felt his lips twitch involuntarily. This girl feared no one. Not even a powerful man like him who could destroy her if he wanted.

Considering Jean’s worldwide experience in projects and women, he should have never found himself in this situation, he frowned. But then who’d guess Bengal tigers ran loose in India—and such beautiful ones? He glared at the ferocious cat, and she glared right back.

‘Don’t threaten me, JLC. I don’t react well to threats. Have the courtesy to apologize for what you did.’

Cute! He came to India to build his glass float, try to forget his painful on-going divorce, keep a promise to his (late) father, and here he was, on his very first party, attacked by this . . . this . . .

He cupped her cheeks gently in his hands and his mouth opened hers. Who cared what tomorrow brings? Right now he wanted this tigress in his bed, clawing him.

An intense love story that goes beyond national boundaries