Shadow Reaper (Shadow Riders, #2)

by Christine Feehan

think of a single thing to say. No one

remember. The waitress hurried away, her

helping to support him without looking as if she were. He went straight to Lucia and the teenager, who were pressed against the side of the building. He

slid

There wasn’t a single twist in the rope.

rocks. His hands went to her shoulders,

his

the moves and put her up in the best of places. Her high-rise apartment had a fantastic view of the city and anyone living there was treated as if they were made of money. The jewelry he bought her was worth a fortune. Now, all she had to do was convince him to get rid of his wife and marry her. She’d have the entire fortune. “Teresa. What are you doing in there?” She liked the impatience in his voice. He was always so eager to see her. “I’ve got a surprise for you, honey,” she called back and then winked at herself in the mirror. She looked good. Better than good. Her thigh-high stockings were sheer black. Her garters, sexy lacy black. She had

around

Emmanuelle’s side and rushed to help him. They eased Giovanni to the floor. Angelina calmly applied pressure to the wound while Giovanni swore over and over. Another bullet tore into the shop and someone screamed for help. It sounded like Claretta, Berardo Giordano’s wife. She yelled for someone to help her get John into the back room, that he was bleeding profusely. “I’m getting that fucking bastard,” Taviano snarled. He didn’t care if the sniper was shooting into the shadows. “No. Don’t go,” Emmanuelle pleaded. “We can’t afford to lose anyone else.” He bent to brush a kiss on her forehead. “You know I have to go,

He reached out to cup her cheek, his thumb sliding over her high cheekbone, his dark eyes so intense

slightly tipped back, her throat was exposed and his palm wrapped around it easily, so that it seemed as if her heart beat right into his hand. “When I’m with you, Mariko, my focus is wholly on you. Always you. I see everything you do. The way your body responds to me, to my art.” His fingers trailed down her chest to the upper curves of her breast. One finger continued, sliding over her right nipple. The lace was open and allowed him to touch bare skin. Her nipples were already peaked, tight little buds. The brush of his fingers sent fiery darts shimmering through her body straight to her sex. She wasn’t certain she would survive. “The feel of your skin is so