Tori Carrington - License to Thrill

Marc strode toward her, until he was so close Melanie could smell his aftershave. “And you want me to believe that in three months you found someone who could replace what took us three years to build?” he continued. “Tell me something, Mel. Does he make you pant the way I did?”

The brush of his palm against her right nipple caused a massive shudder to travel the length of her body. She knew she should move away from him, protesting the familiar intimate touch, but she could only stand transfixed, wanting him to touch her…and more. “He makes me happy,” Melanie said.

Marc frowned. “Outside of the bedroom. How’s he going to make you feel inside?” He cupped her breast, very obviously avoiding contact with the straining tip.

She stifled a moan and tried to stop herself from leaning into his touch. “I don’t think this…is a good idea, Marc. We should, um—” Melanie licked her lips, her gaze fixed on his mouth. “We should be discussing how we’re going to catch the guy who’s after me.”

Marc slowly shook his head. “Sweetheart, the only thing I’m interested in catching right now is you.”

As his mouth came down on hers, Melanie knew he already had.

Dear Reader,

Who can resist a sexy, rough-around-the-edges hero with a heart of gold? If you’ve read our first Temptation novel, Constant Craving, you know we can’t. So we decided to try it again. And this time, not only is our hero, secret agent Marc McCoy, totally irresistible…he’s got four dangerously attractive brothers cut from the same cloth. Is it any wonder we’re calling them THE MAGNIFICENT MCCOY MEN?

In License to Thrill, our intrepid hero, Marc McCoy is up against his ex-partner and former lover, Melanie Weber. Not only has she got another fiancé and a substantial secret that’s bound to show up in say, seven months—she’s also got a madman after her. But the story doesn’t begin and end there. Oh, no.

We hope you enjoy Marc and Mel’s adventurous journey to the altar. We’d love to hear what you think. Write to us at P.O. Box 12271, Toledo, OH 43612, or visit us at the web site we share with other Temptation authors at Temptationauthors.com. And be sure to watch for upcoming books featuring those oh-so-tempting McCoys….

Here’s wishing you love, romance and happy endings.

Lori & Tony Karayianni

a.k.a. Tori Carrington

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This one is for our remarkable editor, Brenda Chin, who led us to the cliff’s edge, then encouraged us to fly. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

JUST THINKING about Marc McCoy made Melanie Weber tingle with need. Even now. Especially now.

She slid her palms over the thick silk of the traditional wedding dress she was being fitted for. It was ironic, really. She had never thought of her relationship with Marc in the traditional sense. Still, she had expected they’d always be together. Always be partners. Always be lovers.

But that was three months ago. Before she realized Marc could never love her. Before she was injured in the line of duty. Before she found out she was pregnant.

Melanie reluctantly opened her eyes, then tugged her hands away from the wedding dress. A pinpoint of guilt started in her stomach and slowly spread through the rest of her body. The last person she should be thinking about was Marc McCoy. She’d carefully tucked him in the past the day Craig had generously offered to solve both their problems by proposing to her. She owed it to Craig to keep focused on their plans for the future. She owed it to herself to keep her thoughts away from the past and all that could never be.

Still she recognized the churning signs of panic that had been swirling in her since she and Craig had picked up their marriage license that morning. She’d felt the same way the day she had faced her mother to tell her that she wasn’t majoring in business, as her mother so wanted. Only now she suspected hormones were more to blame for her anxiety—she hoped.

She turned slightly to view her profile. Funny, her jumbled thoughts didn’t keep her from longing to wear a dress with an open décolletage neckline. But that was impossible. The fresh scar just below her left collarbone was difficult to look at, even for her. She could imagine what would happen if she flashed her gunshot wound to one hundred of Bedford, Maryland’s, prominent citizens, much less her own mother. She shook her head. The seed-pearl-studded mock turtleneck that covered nearly every inch of her skin would have to do.

Melanie sucked in her stomach. If she didn’t have the dress let out just a tad, she would split a seam in front of Craig Gaffney, God and everyone halfway down the aisle two days from now.

“Wouldn’t that fuel Bedford’s gossip hot line for at least a month?” she whispered to her reflection. As it was, she’d already given them enough to talk about. Scary, since they didn’t even know the half of it.

“Joanie? Can you come here for a minute?” she called.

Her younger sister, Joanie, owned the Once Upon a Time Bridal Shoppe. It was just before closing, and with June looming but a few days away, Melanie’s dress wasn’t the only thing bursting at the seams. The shop was filled with stressed-out brides and overbearing mothers. She stuck her head into the hall. In the room opposite hers, Joanie slid a stray pin from the fabric peach forever around her wrist, then blew her hair from her eyes.

“Be with you in a minute, Melanie.”

“Hey, be careful!” complained the bride whose dress Joanie skillfully worked on. “If you get so much as one drop of blood on this dress, I won’t hesitate to sue.”

Melanie ducked into her dressing room. Her sister could probably make a good chunk of change by videotaping some of the more interesting fittings and selling the footage to their grooms. But something like that would never occur to Joanie. Her sister’s generous spirit and endless patience were the main reasons her business had grown so successful. They were also the reason she radiated happiness like a sweet perfume.

Melanie glimpsed her own rare smile in the mirror, then eyed the chair behind her. But no matter how much she wanted to rest her swollen feet, she didn’t dare sit down. Not unless she decided to let out the dress herself in a way that would guarantee she couldn’t wear it two days from now.

Saturday. Her wedding.

Her throat tightened, choking off her airway. She closed her eyes to ward off the unwanted reaction. Cold feet, that’s all it was. A major case of cold feet. What more could it be?

“You can handle this, Mellie. I don’t think I’ve met a braver woman than you. Aside from my Mary, of course.”

The words conjured up the image of Sean’s kind, time-marked face and sober green eyes.

Sean. Just Sean. She didn’t know his last name. But his presence had been the only thing that had kept her sane during that long week in the hospital. Odd, she thought, because he had been little more than a stranger. A visitor, there for another patient, who had entered the wrong room and found her alone and crying. It was the only time she’d been left alone by her mother, Joanie and Craig, who had all meant well but hadn’t a clue how to handle an injured secret service agent whose heart was breaking for the only person who hadn’t visited.