The victim of an ancient curse, Sasha White has wandered the world alone for centuries. The only way out of this endless, lonely cycle is to break the fabled Immortality Stone, which she’s finally located. Infiltrating Chevalier Jewels as an expert diamond cutter, she’s determined to steal the stone from her employers—the same seven men her wizard father was once sworn to shield.
Security expert Derek Arthur has gone undercover in order to catch a jewel thief for his latest, and greatest, client. But all his military training didn’t prepare him to deal with Sasha, the woman Chevalier Jewels assigned as his boss to complete the disguise. The need she ignites within him catches him off guard. Meanwhile, his own powerful secrets are attracting mysterious visions and dangers at every turn.
by USA Today bestselling author Nicole Flockton and Abigail Owen
“This novel … cleverly integrates the King Arthur and Snow White tales, blending the Knights of the Round Table with Snow White’s seven companions … .Compelling sex, witty dialogue, and paranormal action make this a winner.” – Library Journal
Sensuality Level: Sensual
USA Today bestselling author Nicole Flockton writes sexy contemporary romances, seducing you one kiss at a time as you turn the pages. Nicole likes nothing better than putting her characters into unique situations where they fight to find their true love.
Award-winning author Abigail Owen loves to write feisty heroines, sexy heroes who deserve them, and a cast of lovable characters to surround them (and maybe get their own stories). Abigail currently resides in Austin, TX, with her own personal hero (her husband) and their two kiddos, who are growing up way too quickly.
An excerpt from White Knight:
“I told you I’m fine.”
The sweet, feminine tones reached him over the raucous voices of the crowded London pub.
The woman said she was fine, but the hairs on the back of his neck tingled with static. He took a couple of deep breaths. The lights overhead flickered ever so slightly, not enough to disturb the other patrons of the pub, but enough for him to notice and heed the warning sign for him to strive for calm.
Or he could answer the damn call.
Because if he didn’t do something, sure as hell every bulb in the place would blow.
“Honestly, I don’t need or want another drink,” the brunette at the table reiterated.
This time a longer flickering accompanied a low buzzing.
He threw back the rest of his scotch, the burn of the liquor doing nothing to cool him down. He swiveled, the metal stool he sat on screeching out a protest at the sudden movement.
Derek didn’t need to scan the room to find out who was being hit on. He knew exactly who. He’d noticed her himself the moment she walked in—alone, and obviously preferred it that way if the “fuck off” signals were anything to go by. Still, she was hard to ignore. Her tall, willowy form, highlighted by a figure-hugging red dress, was his brand of catnip. Her pale skin stood out against the starkness of her dark hair, which hung halfway down her back. An air of vulnerability underlay the coolly elegant persona she projected.
Every protective instinct, honed by his stint in the military, ignited the instant he set eyes on her, which was why he now found himself standing at the table where she sat, having no memory of taking the necessary steps to cross the room.
“Is everything all right here, miss?”
She turned and speared him with an unimpressed look, her light grey eyes an incredible shade of liquid silver. Man, she was beautiful.
“Don’t miss me, thank you. I’m not some teenager. Everything is fine. I’ve got it all under control.”
“Is that right?” he drawled.
“Yes, it is. You can leave now.” She waved her hand as though dismissing him.
He ground his back molars. He should turn around and walk away. She said she had a handle on the situation, although she looked too fragile to be able to take on the bald, heavy-set man who sat opposite her. Maybe she could pierce the man with a few well-spoken barbs, like the one she had just fired at him when she all but dismissed him.
Who did she think she was, a frickin’ princess?
“You ’eard the lady—leave,” Baldy slurred in a thick cockney accent.
Well, now, wasn’t this fantastic? If he walked away, he would appear to be a chicken shit, and that’s the last thing Derek Arthur was. A soldier now retired from the business of war, he possessed a black belt in karate, not to mention being a fourth dan who could pull some pretty good Kenjutsu moves with a cue stick if he had to.
Not that he wanted to. He’d learned both martial arts as a way to discipline his mind and soul. Sometimes it worked, tonight not so much.