to Preston.” Tamara shoved a finger in her face. “You treated him shabbily, and I won’t have it.”
Had she treated him shabbily?
Shaye valued and prized honesty, and that’s what she’d given him. Shouldn’t he thank her?
Would she ever understand the complexity of human interactions?
“Mother. Nannies raised me.” A gentle reminder. “Your orders hold no sway with me.”
The color drained from Tamara’s cheeks. “But... I’m your mother.”
“And I’m the Ice Princess of Bitterslovakia, the Grand Duchess of Rancorstonia and the Queen of Hostileland.” The many names Tamera had called her over the years.
Waves splashed in the distance as her mother snapped, “All I’ve ever wanted was a nice, normal daughter. Instead I’m stuck with you.” Tears welled in her eyes. “You won’t be happy until you’ve ruined my wedding.”
Fighting the newest sting, Shaye allowed a familiar icy numbness to encompass her. The same numbness she’d relied on during her childhood. A sweet relief against depression and desolation.
Tamara stared past her. “Conner tried to tell me. You’re jealous of me. Admit it! I should have disowned you long ago. Conner says negativity must be purged to allow positivity to flourish.”
Wow. Of all the things her mother had said over the years, that little gem might have cut the deepest.
She thinks I’m the problem.
Wow. Just...wow!
As a little girl, Shaye had craved her mother’s attention, approval and adoration more than breath. But nothing she’d tried had worked. Not gifts or fits or pretending to be the woman’s shadow. Once, Shaye had even run away.
The police had found her, and the nanny had come to pick her up.
“Why don’t you do us both a favor and take responsibility for your own life,” Shaye said, her voice as cold as her internal armor.
The tears began to pour down Tamara’s cheeks. “Conner and I wanted so badly for this day to be perf—” Her eyes widened and glazed with lust. “Perfect,” she finished on a dreamy sigh. “Hmm. So perfect.”
Her voice had dropped to a husky purr.
“Mother?”
“Man.” Tamara stretched out her arms. “My man.”
“I don’t understand.” Shaye dragged her gaze to the ocean—her mouth fell open in shock.
There, rising from the water like primitive sea gods, were six gloriously tall, muscled barbarians. The moon glowed behind them reverently, providing each male with a golden halo.
The warriors were shirtless, revealing washboard abs and skin so tanned it made her think liquid gold had been poured over steel. They looked like supermodels. Only better. Yes, so much better.
Unbelievable...surreal...magnificent.
As the six warriors focused on Shaye, molten air snagged in her lungs, melting her precious ice armor.
The urge to strip and splay herself atop a table to offer her body as the dinner buffet bombarded her. She would be an all-you-can-eat buffet. No charge.
She moistened her lips. Her mouth watered, her skin tingling, and her stomach clenched.
I’m...turned on? By strangers?
What’s wrong with me?
The men continued to prowl toward her. They were so close she could see the silvery water droplets sliding down their chests and gathering in their navels.
Other droplets slid lower...
Her gaze snagged on the man in the middle, and she forgot how to blink.
Dangerous, her most feminine instincts whispered. Lethal.
He was taller than the rest of the group, his dark blond hair hanging in a wet tangle around features that had been chiseled by a master. His eyes... Oh, glory hallelujah, his eyes. They were blue-green, neither color blending with the other but standing alone, so wickedly mesmerizing she felt the pull of them all the way to her bones.
Her nipples hardened, and an ache suddenly throbbed between her legs.
There was something wild about him. Something untamed and savage. His confident swagger, perhaps. The deceptively calm glint in his expression that said he did what he pleased, when he pleased.
As she stared at him, he stared at her. He studied her face, searing arousal flickering in those magnificent eyes, the blue-green deepening and mixing at last, becoming smoldering turquoise.
Raw, masculine perfection.
“Mine,” her mom said on a wispy catch of breath. “All mine.”
A previously missed detail hit her awareness. The warriors carried swords.
They’re armed for war.
She gulped. The one in the middle cocked his finger, beckoning her to join him.
Shivering, drowning in the flood of his maleness, she struggled to shake her head no.
Go to him, her stupid whoremones beseeched.
She shook her head, violently this time.
He frowned at her. “Come here.” His husky voice drifted across the small distance, almost as intoxicating and heady as a caress.
In seconds, a sensual fog wove through her mind. Her knees quaked, and another shiver traipsed the length of her spine.
What would happen if he actually touched her?
What would happen if he trailed those luscious pink lips along her every curve and hollow?
Images flashed through her mind. The man’s mouth on her breasts, his fingers slipping deep inside her, her legs parting to give him better access...
He’s seducing me without even trying.
Either that, or she was seducing herself!
“Come here,” he repeated.
“Yes,” Tamara said, already stepping toward him. The dreamy glaze in her eyes had darkened with eagerness. “I need to touch you, or I’ll die. Please let me touch you.”
The part of Shaye that recognized how dangerous these men were also realized there was something wrong with the entire situation—she still couldn’t bring herself to care.
Must fight this!
Scowling, she reached out to latch on to her mom’s arm and jerk Tamara to a halt. “Don’t go near them.”
“Let me go.”
