The old woman’s enemies had taken her most precious possession—her son, Carlo. He was lost to her now. Lost by trickery and deceit. But the three people who had cut out her heart would pay in kind. They would feel the pain she had felt. For they each had a son: Wyatt Boudreaux, Garner Rousseau, and Andrei Sobatka. Each would suffer a fate worse than death. A fate that would follow him till the end of his days.
Part 3: Andrei
The Law is Impotent
Because his father testified against Carlo Mustov. Andrei Sobatka is cursed to never consummate his relationship with any woman. As Andrei tries to prove his cousin’s innocence, he reconnects with the daughter of the murdered woman. Elizabeth Granville was his first and only love…as he was hers. As they seek out the truth about the murder together, can they find their way back to each other? Can their love nullify a gypsy curse?
Gypsy Magic: Wyatt…Garner…Andrei…each of these compelling stories ends with an HEA for the hero and heroine. But only the full set will finally get to the bottom of the murder mystery. Be sure to read them all!
Excerpt from Andrei:
“Go to hell, Andrei Sobatka!”
“Too late. I already have an intimate acquaintance with the place.”
She turned and again tried to escape, but he grabbed her forearm and swung her back against a column. As fast as he’d ever moved, he slashed her arms up above her head and pinned them there, his long fingers gripping her delicate wrists. He could feel her pulse race. Then he pinned her body to the pillar with his.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she asked with a gasp.
What was he doing? Most likely being a fool. He couldn’t help himself. Apparently she was having the same problem, for he sensed need trembling through her, saw deep into her darkening amber gaze where desire for him smoldered. He knew what women wanted—Gypsy magic, Lizzie would call it—and it was both a blessing and a curse. Nothing could come of such torture, not anymore, not for him, but memory plagued him and for a moment he allowed himself the fantasy.
Dipping his head toward her hair, he inhaled her scent, as rich and ripe as Mother Earth, a combination of magnolia soap and fine leather and horseflesh. He remembered that combination of scents. Remembered more. Considering the way she froze, the way her breath came in little catches, he suspected she remembered, as well.
Miss Elizabeth Granville, debutante, was held fast to the spot, licking her lips, as nervous as a cat. He almost gave way to temptation and licked them, too.
With a sardonic laugh, he backed off and saluted her. “Tell your daddy that Andrei Sobatka is looking for him.”
She said nothing, merely stared at him as he leaped off the porch, not even touching the stairs. He felt her gaze on his back as he swiftly moved off. The sensation never left him, not until he disappeared from sight and made his way back through the bayou and across the road to the carnival grounds.