From #1 New York Times Bestselling author Rachel Van Dyken comes the third book in the bestselling Eagle Elite Series...
“As burns this saint, so burns my soul. I enter alive, and I will have to get out dead.”
Chase Winter let the love of his life slip through his fingers and into the hands of his best friend and mafia boss of the Abandanato family. Now that he's been given a second chance to right a wrong--he refuses to let his own selfishness stand in the way. The only problem? He's not fully in possession of his heart, so when Mil De Lange, the girl who's innocence he stole, and heir to the worst of the worst mafia families in the US, asks him for a favor. He actually says yes, not realizing that that one yes has the power to destroy them all.
Mil's been in love with Chase as long as she can remember, but as the years went by, the love turned to hate, and now that he's agreed to help her, she's wondering if she made a fatal error. Because Chase isn't a teenager anymore. He's a hot blooded male, bent on owning every part of her body and soul, and willing to kill anyone in his path who dares stand in the way.It's time for secrets to finally be revealed...but make no mistake, it's going to take a lot of bloodshed for those truths to be discovered.
You've never read a New Adult Mafia story like this before...loyalties will be tested, lovers reunited, and friendships obliterated. Welcome to the Family. Blood in--No out.
Entice (Eagle Elite Book 3) May 13, 2014....Are you in?
“Ten bucks says the only person not packing is Mils grandma by marriage.” Mo said once we’d all finished eating our dinner, which has basically been a painful process of chewing, swallowing,drinking unhealthy amounts of wine and trying to stare at my plate to keep from looking at Trace, while my wife sat next to me. Hell had officially risen to earth and I was smack dab in the middle of it trying my damndest to remember how to swallow without choking — without dying a little bit inside each time I saw him touch her face. And trying not to feel like an ass when Mil caught me staring — again. I’d resolved about an hour ago to actually be the man she needed me to be and I was already failing. Horribly. The second time I looked,Mo kicked me under the table but accidentally hit Tex instead causing everyone to look up, which was probably why Mo said what she did.
We all turned heads to look at the hundred year old woman. She was currently on her fourth glass of wine and looked to be about two seconds away from falling into her chicken cacciatore.
“Nope.” Nixon shook his head. “It’s always the ones you don’t expect. My money’s on Grandma.”
“I’ll take that bet.” Tex rose. “Seems like someone needs to fall on their own knife and all that. This has to be the most depressing wedding I’ve ever gone to and that includes the fake one Mo made for her kittens when she was four.”
“They lived happily ever after.” Mo tilted her head into the air and narrowed her eyes.
Tex leaned down and tapped Mo on the nose. “Yes if happily means they lived for five damn minutes before marching directly into oncoming traffic.”
“I think the wedding just hit its low point.” Mil muttered. “Save us, Tex. I beg you. Find the gun and I’ll give you a prize.”
“Prize?” Tex’s eyes lit up. “As in—”
“As in her new husband won’t punch you in the face. You’re welcome. Yay, prizes.” I did a fake punch into the air. “Now go create some excitement before Nixon starts picking people off with his semi-automatic.”
Nixon rolled his eyes. “Right, like I’d even bring—”
“It’s in the SUV.” Trace answered sounding bored. “Saw it when I took out my dress.”
“Damn.” He looked away.
Just then a very drunk looking cousin Vinnie got up and took the microphone from the band. “Look here! I have a toast to the bride and groom!” The feedback from the microphone mixed with his inability to stand up straight caused him to drop the stand and then fall flat on his ass.
“For the love of God save us all.” I pushed Tex towards Grandma.
We all sat at the table, the very depressing bridal party table, and watched as Tex slowly made his way towards the elderly woman.
“This won’t end well.” Trace said under her breath. “The man has the subtleness of a bomb.”
“Exactly.” Mo grinned from ear to ear.“I did say we needed entertainment, didn’t I?”
“Mo… ” Nixon warned.
“He cheated on me Nixon. Let me have my fun.” She said smoothly.
“He what?” Nixon roared jumping to his feet, curious stares pinned in our direction as Mo grabbed his hand and pulled him back to his seat.
“I’ve got this. You aren’t the only one who knows how to use their powers for evil, brother. Revenge is a bitch, isn’t that what they say, Trace?”
She looked guiltily down at her hands.Yeah, double meanings I could really get without. Hopefully Mo wasn’t going to get Tex shot at our wedding, not that I’d be against it. This was the first I heard of him cheating, granted, Mo hadn’t really been all that for sharing recently. She was as secretive as ever. Something told me it was for a reason,but I’d been too wrapped up in my own drama to even ask. How bad did I suck as a half brother? Bad, real bad. On a scale of one to ten in the suckiness department I’d be around an eleven.
Tex finally reached her chair and sat down next to her, his smile was wide, I couldn’t tell what he was saying but his hands were all over the place, and then he set one hand on Grandma.
“Oh this isn’t going to end well.” Mo chuckled. “She hates being touched.”
“It is Tex.” I pointed out. “She could do a lot worse.”
“Doubtful.” Mo snorted crossing her arms.
Holy shit what the hell? Had I been living under a rock for the past few months? What went down? And how didn’t I know about it.
I winced when Tex moved his other hand next to Grandma’s leg. Probably wouldn’t be a good time to tell him that she’d seen her fair share of murder. I almost closed my eyes when she looked down at his hand.
“Aw shit.” Nixon shook his head. “You had to challenge him, Mo.”
Mo’s face twisted into a murderous smile as she pointed and exclaimed. “Game. Set. Match.”
Grandma had Tex by the balls.
“Ouch!” This from Mil.
By the time I got back to the room, Chase was in the bathroom. The shower was running, and I could have sworn I heard him singing some sort of Frank Sinatra song, but it’s entirely possible I made it up. Trace hadn’t been the only one drinking wine.
With a flourish I fell across the bed and let out a huge sigh — the type of sigh a girl lets out when she’s trying to let the person next to her know that something’s not right.
Lucky me. All I had was a wall.
Right, so I was sighing at a damn wall.
I sighed again.
Well, no time like the present. I wasn’t sure which side of Chase I was going to get tonight. The hot-as-hell arrogant asshole, who made me want to slap him almost as much as I wanted to kiss him? Or the funny, easy-going, hormonal teenager, who had left earlier this evening after staring at my boobs like he was twelve?
I smirked at the thought. Me and my sigh would take either one. The water turned off in the bathroom. The door swung open. I glanced and almost fell off the bed.
Chase. Was. Naked.
Clearly he wasn’t aware that I was in the room. He didn’t turn, just ran the fluffy white towel around his dripping body. Licking my lips, I felt my pulse jump as he wiped a few droplets that streamed down his face. Damn, I wanted to run my tongue along the trails the water created. My breathing picked up — and I swore under my breath as that same towel ran down his ridiculously tight abs. I was completely wrecked, my body strung so tight I was afraid to keep breathing — afraid that it was too loud — and I didn’t want the show to end.
“How were the girls?” Chase asked without turning around.
Aw, crap. Embarrassed, I cleared my throat and scolded my eyes for continuing to remain on his muscled body. Just one more look, I promised myself, and then I’d be fine.
“Good.” I continued my bold stare. His ass was fine. Seriously. Fine.
“You get some wine and food?” he asked, wrapping the towel around his waist. Bummer.
“Yup,” I squeaked, my voice sounding all kinds of immature.
“So,” he padded over to the bed and sat, “dinner and a show, huh?”
“I, uh—” Laughing, I scooted away from him toward the pillows. “I was going to say something, but—”
“Cut the shit, Mil.” Chase smirked. “You were ogling.”
“Girls don’t ogle.”
“Oh?” That gorgeously perfect idiotic face mocked me with every ounce of hotness. Damn Chase Winter. Damn beautiful man. God should have at least taken pity on the female race and made him short or fat or anything but what I was staring at. A muscled god with dark skin, bright green eyes, and a smile that made a girl immediately want to do anything she could to trap him into marriage.
“What’cha thinking about?” He smirked again.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at www.rachelvandykenauthor.com