Today we will be looking at Debt of Honour, by the NYT & USAT bestselling author, Opal Carew!
Detained by a domineering sheikh for a crime she did not commit…
Angelica couldn’t believe that hopping off a plane during a refueling stop to search for one-of-a-kind souvenirs could lead to so much trouble. Now she is detained in an exotic country by a devastatingly handsome sheikh… and ends up in his harem.
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Excerpt from Debt of Honor, by NYT & USAT Bestselling Author, Opal Carew
Angelica glanced down at the costume again. It was stunning in royal blue and gold with a gorgeous design formed by the intricate beadwork. The bottom of the bra and the hip band were dripping with beaded fringe. It cascaded from the bra and caressed her bare midriff. She had taken belly dance classes over the past couple of years and had eyed the instructors’ costumes, wishing she could afford one for herself, yet this was more exquisite than any she’d ever seen.
“You like it, yes?” one of the women asked. She seemed to be the one in charge.
“It’s … beautiful.”
The woman took her hand and drew her forward. “Wonderful. The master will be pleased.”
Angelica’s eyes widened. They were taking her to him in this?
When she slowed down, the women gathered around her and kept her moving forward.
“Stop it. I won’t go dressed like this.”
“You must. The master has ordered it.”
They quickly approached the door. Panic flooded through her. She couldn’t.
“I won’t wear this!” She reached behind her back and tried to unfasten the bra, but the unfamiliar closure and the fussing hands of the women prevented her from succeeding. She pulled the straps off her shoulders and tried to pull it forward.
“No, miss. You might rip it,” one panicked woman insisted.
Rip it. That’s exactly what she’d do. She tugged at the straps but they were securely fastened on. She switched to the belt and tugged hard. Despite the women pulling at her arms, she found where it fastened. She realized they had stopped their forward momentum as they struggled with her. She jerked several times until finally, she heard the belt tear, then it fell from her hips.
The women spoke frantically in their own language. Next, she tore at the shimmering, diaphanous fabric of the skirt, ripping it from her body. She shoved her fingertips under the bra beside her left breast and pulled hard. The elastic gave a little and she tried to pull it upwards.
“Stop! You will ruin it.”
She felt fingers working at the fastening, then the bra loosened. One of her captors took it, scowling at Angelica.
The woman in charge stepped in front of Angelica, her hands on her hips.
“The master will be very angry.”
“Then don’t tell him.”
“His orders were for you to be brought to him in that outfit.”
Angelica placed her hands on her own hips, extremely conscious of her nudity but ignoring it.
“Well, maybe it’s time for him to learn that not all his orders will be followed.”
One of the women gasped. Angelica suspected the only reason the other woman didn’t seem surprised was because she didn’t speak English.
She marched away from them, snatched the silk coverlet from the bed and wrapped it around herself. She sat down, her arms crossed over her chest as she held the coverlet firmly around herself.
She had shown them she wouldn’t be pushed around, she thought smugly. But Angelica’s smugness faded quickly when the women simply dragged her from the bed and led her through the hallways totally naked except for the cover she clung to.
They stopped in front of a heavy wooden door in a tall, arched doorway. The head woman knocked and the door pulled open. A tall guard greeted her and waved them inside. The women led Angelica into a large, sumptuous room filled with plush, upholstered couches and chairs piled high with silk and velvet cushions, all in rich jewel tones, and ornately carved, ebony furniture. They prodded her to the middle of the room and stood behind her. The guard left, but she was certain he would be standing right outside, ensuring she didn’t run for it.
“What is this?” a familiar, masculine voice demanded.
She glanced around and saw Kadin, the sinfully gorgeous man who’d insisted she owed him a debt, and demanded she pay with her body. She opened her mouth to voice a protest at her treatment, but his dark, penetrating eyes stole her breath away.
His stormy gaze drifted over the blue silk coverlet cloaking her.
She straightened her shoulders, but tightened her hold on the fabric.
“They refused to provide me with decent clothes.”
His eyebrows raised and he stepped toward her. She could read nothing in his coal-black eyes. His mood, whether foul or fair, was a mystery to her. His presence filled the room and, as he approached, she had to force herself not to cringe. Yet at the same time, her body buzzed with an alarming excitement.
Her body reacted to him far too easily. She reminded herself what might happen here tonight.
Unfortunately, that kicked the excitement up several notches making her insides quiver.
“I see. So you decided to cover yourself with this.” His tone, low and dangerous, sent alarm skittering through her.
Before she could comprehend what was happening, he grabbed the blanket and yanked it from her grasp.
Her friend told her dreams come true at Eden, but this is more like a nightmare.
begins to stalk her. After receiving an invitation to an exclusive resort
called Eden, she jumps at the chance to get away.
past. As he’s closing in on her, a passing stranger on a motorcycle pulls up
and orders her onto his bike. Frightened and willing to take any chance to flee
her dangerous ex, she does as he says.
Her knight in supple leather manages to lose her ex and take
her to a secret hideaway, but now she finds herself overwhelmed by his potent
masculinity and submitting completely to his authoritative commands.
Killer didn’t want to be her saviour. He had problems of his
own. But once Marissa’s under his protection, he will do whatever he can to
keep her safe. Even force her to face her deepest fears.
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Excerpt from Wild Ride
The next morning, Marissa decided to leave the castle and go into the little town nearby.
Apparently, there was a marketplace where she could buy souvenirs and postcards, have her
fortune told, buy some unique artwork, and enjoy some quaint little cafes and restaurants.
She wore a short denim skirt and blouse over her bikini, intending to take a walk along the
beach near the town in the afternoon and go for a swim. She finished her lemonade in the little
café overlooking the ocean, having just finished a lunch salad. After paying her bill, she left the
restaurant, and headed toward the fortune teller’s she’d seen earlier.
As the sound of that voice, her blood ran cold. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Rip,
big as life in his faded jeans and black T-shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattooed arms,
standing about thirty yards behind her. Her eyes widened as she stood frozen to the spot.
Then he stepped toward her. Her heart lurched and she raced forward, running past the
booths and heading toward the street. Traffic passed by ahead and all she could think of was
finding a policeman to protect her.
But when she reached the road, she gazed around, searching, but could see no one in uniform
anywhere. Her heart pounded as she glanced behind her at Rip closing the distance between
them. She raced along the street, then around a corner.
A big black motorcycle pulled in front of her. The driver glanced her way, his eyes hidden by
dark, reflective aviator shades.
“Get on the bike,” he said in a hard, commanding voice.
She glanced over her shoulder at Rip heading her way.
“Now,” the biker demanded.
Automatically obeying his authoritative tone, she hopped on the bike behind him, then
wrapped her arms around his waist as the bike lurched forward. She glanced at Rip’s face as he
raced toward her, the expression on his face one of shock.
“No, Marissa. Don’t trust him,” he shouted after them.
At least, that’s what she thought he’d said. Not that she had any reason to believe Rip. He
was merely trying to frighten her.
As the bike dodged between the traffic and it started to sink in that she was sitting on the back
of a speeding motorcycle, clinging to a man she didn’t even know, it occurred to her that maybe
she’d just jumped from the frying pan into the fire.