Found by Tara Crescent
Series: Assassin’s Revenge #1
Source: Review By Request
ARC Provided by Author
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I have a mission. Kill the man who kidnapped me. Kill the guards who raped me. I have guns and knives and I’m not afraid to use them. Nothing will stop me.
Then I walk into a bar and I notice him. He is gorgeous. For four long years, my only response to anything sexual has been revulsion and fear. This time, it feels different.
I could use him. I want to use him. I could sleep with him and make a pleasurable memory as a counterpoint to the painful ones. I’m not a frightened young girl anymore. I’m a trained assassin, capable of killing him with my bare hands.
This time, I’ll be in control.
He’s just supposed to be a distraction, this mysterious man in the bar that I have a one-night stand with. But I can’t predict the secrets he is hiding… secrets that are about to intersect my world in painful, unanticipated, and dangerous ways.
Well hello fabulous new series!
This woman had wounds. I did too. Perhaps that was it. Two people, both scarred, both not quite healed, searching for a shard of intimacy in the darkness of night.
The first book in the Assassin’s Revenge series delivers on sex, mystery, and intrigue – when I finished this story (which had a cliffy luring the reader into the series) my first thought was total elation because I have no idea what will happen next. It’s true! Sometimes I’m able to work out all the why/when/how of a story ARC early on, but not with the Assassin’s Revenge series.
I’m signing on for a wild ride with this one, that much I can tell.
We have two characters who are more than they appear to be.
Two people with carefully guarded pasts.
People who kill.
Use him, the pragmatic part of me urged. Sleep with him if he seems interested, Make a pleasant, pleasurable memory to counterpoint the painful ones.
We know that Ellie was kidnapped and kept for several years as an unwilling sex slave to a brutal abusive asshole. Once she found freedom from captivity, she began training to become the ultimate assassin. Well, training is over, and Ellie is picking off the men who raped her. One by one…
A residual fear of physical intimacy stands in the way of her plan. Ellie’s solution is to find a stranger to screw. She needs to replace memories of her traumatic past sexual experiences with new ones.
This time, she’ll be in control…
All that control dissolves when she meets him…
I suspected that almost everything Rachel had told me was a lie, but then again, almost everything I’d said to her was a lie as well.
This story is dual POV, so the reader has a front row seat to both Ellie and Alexander’s inner monologues.
Ellie is very upfront (mentally) with who she is and what she’s doing – She’s a survivor. She’s going to kill the people who hurt her.
Alexander is not so cut and dry – This man oozes mystery. His motivations are more murky, his goal isn’t so clearly defined.
It’s clear that these two are leading lives which intertwine despite the fact that they’ve never met.
Alexander is waiting out the results of a hit he has his team doing in Paris. He’s staying inconspicuous at a seedy bar when she walks in. Suddenly this gloriously confident woman has his undivided attention.
A game of Truth or Dare leads the couple to a more secluded venue.
One night of passion has to be enough for this pair – they each have missions to fulfill and dangerous days ahead… But that doesn’t stop them from wishing this one night in Paris could be the start of something bigger…
The small house I took her to wasn’t far away. Though it too was part of my cover, this house was more. I’d bought it with the first bit of real money I’d earned by myself and it was important to me. I’d never taken a woman there before. In the early days, I’d been fighting for my own survival. Nowadays, the women I was occasionally seen with would have turned up their noses at the humble abode.
She looked around with interest and I saw the furnishings through her eyes. Everything was simple but each piece had been chosen for comfort. The walls were painted a cheerful Provencal yellow. If we walked through the kitchen and out the back, the garden would be fragrant with lavender bushes.
I hadn’t been to this house in months. The refrigerator would be devoid of food, but, in keeping with my French upbringing, there was always something to drink. “More wine?” I asked her. “Let’s head to the back?”
She’d put her hand on my knee as we’d driven here. I got the sense that she had to steel herself to make that move. I wasn’t in the habit of forcing myself on unwilling or reluctant women. Rachel did want me, but she also seemed afraid of something.
“That would be lovely,” she replied. “I think I can still taste that house wine.”
“Serves you right,” I chided, amused. “You made me drink the entire thing.”
“That’s how it works with truth or dare,” she reminded me.
I grabbed a couple of glasses and opened a bottle of another Cotes du Rhone white without looking at the label. Everything was spotlessly clean, thanks to the housekeeping crew that came in once a week to air out the house and keep it in good order. I poured two generous glassfuls and handed her one. “A toast?” I asked.
“To what?” Her voice was soft and breathy. A bedroom voice. My cock was instantly hard again. This woman was killing me.
“To secrets revealed.” I had no idea where those words came from. Honesty was an indulgence for someone in my position. Secrets were my stock in trade.
She took a sip. “Here’s a secret,” she held my gaze as she spoke. “I haven’t had sex in four years. Your turn.”
Four years? Was this the reason for the fear in her eyes? “You are the first woman I’ve ever brought to this house.”
“My ex used to beat me during sex and I’m terrified of letting that happen again.”
Fuck. I was the worst guy she could end up with. If she was telling the truth, she needed tenderness and sweetness, not the hard pounding dominance she was more likely to get from me. I should have told her to leave.
“Come sit on my lap,” I said instead. As we’d spoken, we’d wandered out to the garden and taken a seat without paying any attention to our surroundings. The air was perfumed with lavender. A profusion of wild roses bloomed everywhere. The lanterns flickering throughout the garden made the small space appear magical. Yet I had eyes for only her.
“You aren’t running.” She got to her feet and came towards me. I swear, my heart actually thudded in my chest. This was ridiculous. Sex was a game, nothing more. My emotions never got involved.
“No.” My cock was about to explode as that sweet ass of hers descended onto my lap. I wrapped an arm around her and she leaned into me. I bent my head down towards her soft lips. “I’m not.”
Look, I was a guy. Kisses and foreplay were nice, but in the end, it was just a way to get to the good stuff. Her wet juicy cunt spasming around my dick. Her moans as I slammed into her body again and again. Her heat. The way she’d taste. The way her body would quiver as I took her, over and over. Her sweet voice chanting my name, as if it were a prayer.
But it wouldn’t be my name she’d be chanting. Marc was a figment of my imagination. He didn’t exist.
About Tara Crescent:
Hello, I’m Tara Crescent. By day, I’m a mild-mannered corporate drone in Toronto, but by night, I’m limited only by my imagination; I sit and I type, and I am a daring writer of BDSM, erotica and romance.
I’m a huge believer in happily-ever-after, but tempered by real life, where happily-ever-after is possible, but takes work. My favorite kind of romance stories are ones that are somewhat believable; I like strong men and women who know what they want out of life, and are driven to get it.
In my spare time, I write of course. I also read, garden, travel, cook, and almost never clean. I just started watching Walking Dead on Netflix (zombie erotica, anyone?), and I’m impatiently awaiting the next episode of Doctor Who. (I would kill for a TARDIS.)
From time to time, I blog about what I’m writing at my blog. The blog is also where I post book excerpts; highlight information about upcoming promotions, and so on and so forth. Follow me there to keep up with all the fun! (Oh, and sign up for my mailing list – I send out free stories every month or so.)