Erotic Paranormal/Suspense/Action/Adventure Romance
(the first story in the Special Investigations Agency series-once part of Winter Warriors anthology)
December 14, 2009
Published by and available from Ellora's Cave
Buy original Winter Warriors anthology also at Ellora's Cave
Available on Barnes & Noble Nook!
When Destiny Tremayne and fellow agent Mac Tudor are assigned to investigate mysterious disappearances at a strange lab high in the Colorado Mountains, they clash at every turn. Destiny thinks Mac is a throwback. Mac thinks Destiny hates any man who has balls. When they realize something monstrous stalks the secluded high-mountain lab, they'll face a terrifying enemy and a blazing sexual inferno they may not survive.
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"With the mystery of who or what is making the staff disappear added
into the witty repartee that Mac and Destiny engaged in made
this a fun as well as spooky read. The sex was erotic and
hot as well as emotional. Mac went all alpha, but backed off
appropriately so as not to engage my jerk meter... A good solid
read that I highly recommend."
~ Night Owl ReviewsTop Pick! -
"Maneater by Denise A. Agnew reminded me of a cross between Alien and Terminator. You have
suspense, drama, the sex and the sexy agent with a gun. What
more could a girl ask for? The chemistry between Destiny and
Mac was realistic, and you could almost feel the sexual tension
they held for each other. Destiny, with her take-no-prisoners
mentality, learns to become a little softer with Mac. Mac
is the type of man that will use his charm to get what he
wants and he isn't afraid to let his friends see him
do it. The monster was both nasty and somewhat human in a
way; you try not to feel for it but it became harder as you
'learn more about it."
~ Bitten By Books Reviews
Destiny hesitated at the gym interior entrance with her hand resting on the doorknob. She frowned at the goofy Santa someone had plastered on the door. She could return to the locker room and dress and then leave.
Sure. Then Quinton will put in papers for your transfer, and you know he doesn't threaten if he doesn't mean it.
Annoyed with her conscience, she took a deep breath and twisted the door knob. She'd come this far and tangled wits with Mac Tudor on more than one occasion since the first time she saw him. Working with Mac would be bad enough, but their cover story made Destiny consider jumping off a ten-story building.
Buck up. You're an SIA agent.
Right. She walked into the room.
A man stood with his back to her as he completed the graceful movement of T'ai Chi. Every flowing position defined muscles in his arms and legs. He finished and swung around, an alert cat-like grace in his big, muscular body. Like a man used to taking down the enemy with economic, lethal force.
When his deep brown eyes captured hers, the same thing happened that always occurred whenever she saw him.
Her heart almost stopped, her breath seized up, and her knees felt weak.
Damn it.
He advanced, his stride assured and not the least hurried. She swallowed hard. A dark blue muscle shirt covered his chest, but left his arms and stomach bare.
No man on this planet deserved to have such a gorgeous body. Wide, muscular shoulders commanded attention. The short cut of his shirt revealed a sprinkling of hair down over his rock-hard abs and into the waistband of his shorts. Without remorse she allowed her gaze to wander over his body. Mac also possessed the best-looking muscular legs she'd ever seen.
Oh, yes. She understood why the section secretary couldn't keep her eyes off him.
Destiny had felt his muscular legs brush against her when they'd danced last Christmas. She'd also felt the undeniable arousal pressed against her stomach as he'd moved her about the dance floor. More than enough evidence that, although he couldn't stand her, his cock liked her very much. Worse than that, she'd wanted his spike-hard cock buried inside her. Thrusting.
To her mortification her face flamed.
"Tremayne." His voice rumbled, husky, deep, and sexy enough to curl a woman's toes at fifty paces.
God, how she hated him.
She started toward him and they met near a punching bag. Barely a foot and a half separated them. She tilted her head up a little to look at him. Although she was five feet eight inches tall, he must be at least six feet four inches.
Her gaze snagged on those disgustingly dazzling eyes ringed with thick lashes. Bedroom eyes, hell. Tudor's gaze said he could make her come anywhere, anytime, and she couldn't do a thing about it.
Orgasm by remote control.
A smile escaped her lips before she could stop herself.
"What's so funny?" he asked softly.
She shrugged one shoulder, unconcerned. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
A curious, but unwilling-to-give-into-it expression touched his face.
And, oh, that face.
Craggy didn't describe his countenance. No one would dare call him merely handsome, because the description didn't do justice to his presence. He was too hard, too rough-and-tumble. Too masculine to ever be thought of as a pretty boy.
Combine Mel Gibson and Hugh Jackman, throw in a little Colin Farrell for good measure, and you got Mac Tudor. His short hair waved, and she imagined if it grew longer it would explode out of control. Tudor possessed a beautiful nose, neither too large nor too small. His mouth was made for kissing, the lower lip the tiniest bit bigger than the upper. Perhaps to show a little defiance toward convention, he often kept a little five-o'clock shadow along his firm jaw. Today was no exception.
His hot, admiring attention slid over her breasts, down to hips, to her legs. She could feel the burn in his devouring look right through her clothing. A flush spilled into her stomach at the heat in his perusal. She swallowed hard, determined not to be the first one to speak again. She realized with a shock they had stared at each other almost a full minute without saying anything.
Mac gave her a crooked smile that probably sent lesser women into a faint. "Looks like you're stuck with me for the long haul, Tremayne."
He edged closer. She sucked in a slow, deep breath to calm her reaction. "Unfortunately. Don't think I didn't try to get out of it."
"I'll bet you did."
"Since Quinton thinks we're the best pairing for this case, we'll have to accept it and proceed."
He nodded. "Then let's get it on."
Destiny wanted to scream at his penchant for double entendre. She could tell him where he could shove it. Maybe if she hacked off Mac enough he would leave, then she could go to Quinton and say Mac made the decision not to work with her. Once Mac transferred out of Colorado, she could breathe easier.
Sure. Like that would happen.
"I'm not fighting you today," she said.
"Could have fooled me. It looks like you're dressed to kick some major ass."
She wore her usual work-out attire of T-shirt and shorts, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. "I'm here to work out."
"So let's work out." A teasing grin touched his mouth, and he started to circle her like a lion homing in on prey.
"What are you doing?"
He continued to walk around her, and his warm, spicy scent teased her nose. "Maybe you're afraid to fight me."
Every alarm went on a high alert status. "What did you just say?"
His swagger owned complete assurance. "It's understandable. I'm stronger and quicker. I'd win easily."
Warning, imminent blast likely.
Common sense told her she couldn't allow him to goad her into taking up his challenge. "Of course you're stronger, but that doesn't mean you're the better fighter."
"So you're saying you can beat me?" He kept circling her, the space between them getting smaller and smaller. "I think you'd get hurt."
"I don't need to prove anything to you."
"Oh, but I think you need to verify something to yourself."
She'd fought men before and won, but never another SIA-trained agent, and never a man as powerful as Mac.
But she couldn't turn her back on his challenge, or give Quinton a reason to send her to the outer reaches of Mongolia.
She attacked.
Mac blocked her arm movements, coming in with a quick feint that sent her sailing over his shoulder. She flipped and landed on her feet.
"Oh, baby," he said as he whirled around, his eyes turning hot with danger. "Do that again."
With a growl, Destiny came at him with a series of kicks he avoided, his returning moves quick as lightning. As he punched out with his arms, she ducked and came up under his ribs with a chop that made him grunt.
Triumphant, she came at him before he could recover. This time he wouldn't be caught off guard, and he blocked her next maneuver with ease. Again and again they fenced, their swiftly moving feet and legs combining several martial arts forms in a dance that would have proved either fatal or injurious to anyone but them.
Kick, loop, swing, punch. Jab, kick.
Acceleration and gut-wrenching excitement moved through her like a waterfall, swift and pounding. She loved the motion, the rasp of hard breathing and muscle work. In her element, she refused to back down to his aggressive actions. Destiny saw battle lust in his eyes as he came at her without mercy. None of the female agents she trained with possessed his skill or command. After a time she saw a little frustration sneaking through his determination. Glittering with the supremacy of an authoritative animal, his eyes said he would not be messed with or denied a victory.
And she would certainly never give it.
Giddy with triumph, she pressed her suit. He came back at her with additional stratagems.
They paused, breath coming hard and fast as they circled each other with precision. The blazing temperature in Mac's gaze did something funny to her heart rate. His smile held a hint of mockery and yet seriousness lurked there as well. Arousal stirred in her belly. She'd never imagine fighting could be so damned electrifying.
Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Mac Tudor oozed sex.
She licked her lips and his gaze latched on her mouth like a starving man. "Ready to give up, Tremayne?"
"No way." Even though she'd never encountered an opponent as difficult as him, she couldn't, wouldn't, let him win. "Bring it on."
A cocky grin formed on his mouth. "With pleasure."