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Sean has spent five years cleaning up his life. He’s shoved his past behind him and focused all his energy into building his club, Garden. He has no room in his life for women. Even if he did, falling for a sweet, naïve younger woman isn’t in his plans. But from the moment he rescued Talia from that asshat in his club, she brings out his every protective instinct.
Sean’s older, tattooed, and a definite no-go according to her family. Everyone warns her to keep away, even Sean himself. Yet Talia can’t keep him off her mind. After hiding her true self for too long, Sean’s quiet strength soothes and encourages her. And Talia’s tired of ignoring what she wants; she knows what she needs. Sean proves resistant, but her persistence is stronger than his will.
When a stalker leaves photos and notes on Talia’s car, Sean learns how far he will go to protect the woman who means everything to him. But sometimes protection means more than fists and violence. Can Sean and Talia survive when the past resurfaces and threatens Talia’s life?
Talia laughed and nudged his knee with her own. When he glanced over at her, she smiled and ducked her head. She slid a little closer to him and laid her head against his shoulder. He moved to put his arm around her and her muscles tensed. Slipping his arm around her waist, he drew her up against him. He shouldn’t hold her like this. Already too attached to her, he needed to keep his distance. But a few minutes couldn’t hurt, right?
He was just making sure she wasn’t cold. That was it. “You warm enough?”
“Mmmhmm,” she murmured. She relaxed into his side and brought her hand up to rest on his chest. He ached for her to slide that little hand inside his shirt like she did the night they met.
She brought her gaze up to meet his in the flickering light of the fire. “Sean, I have to ask…”
He brought his hand up to cup her cheek. She closed her eyes, leaned into his touch, and he groaned. Her soft curves pressed against his side when she shifted against him. She tugged at his neck, pulling his head down toward her. Even a saint couldn’t resist her when that little tongue darted out, licking her lips in anticipation.
And he was no saint.