Dee Brice

Virtual Bride It Takes a Thief

Available in

Available Ellora's Cave on June 13, 2012
ISBN 9781419935794

2012 publisher's winner in the category of Sleeping with the Enemy

Sometimes a woman has to take a flying leap of faith—even if it’s into the arms of a man hell-bent on her destruction.

When Tiffany Cartierri succumbs to a night of lust in the arms of a handsome, dark-eyed stranger, she has no idea their paths will cross again a week later. Nor can she stop herself from craving Damian Hunter’s lovemaking.

But the theft of Isabella's Belt—an emerald-encrusted artifact—places them on opposing sides in a desperate attempt to recover the priceless treasure. From Austria to England to Colombia, Tiffany and Damian race to discover who stole the Belt and who is trying to frame her for both the theft and for murder.

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An Excerpt

Copyright © DEE BRICE, 2012
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

“Do you want to undress me?” she murmured.

Heat flared in her eyes. His cock twitched. His knees went weak and shaky. Anticipation held him captive, unable to move as she freed her hair. Ebony curls cascaded like a blue-black waterfall over her shoulders and chest.

“Do you want to undress me?” she whispered again, her throaty voice sending hot shivers coursing through him.


He hooked a finger in the big brass ring resting between her breasts and held her wonder-filled gaze. Her dark lashes drifted downward, hiding her emotions, but her breathing betrayed her. Soft sighs came with increasing rapidity. Her hands trembled as she raised them to his shoulders.

Forcing himself not to rush, fighting the urges of his own body, he traced her collarbone and eased the silky fabric off her shoulders. Firm, satiny flesh warmed his palms. Perfection. The thought flooded his brain and raised his heart rate.

His eyes still focused on her face, now flushed and dewy, he let his fingers learn the contours of her body. He touched her nipples and felt them furl like newborn rose buds blindly seeking the sun. On a gasp her eyes flew open, revealing a flowering rapture in their emerald depths. He drifted his hands lower and discovered a narrow waist, slender hips and heat between her thighs.

“Take it off,” he ordered in a hoarse whisper. He stepped back and watched her skim the light fabric from her body, then let it slide like a lover’s caress down her long, slender legs.

A low growl expressed his appreciation. He slid his hands under the silky blanket of her hair and hauled her to him. A purr deep in her throat told him of her need as they collided like two beasts in heat. Mouths parting, their lips met with brutal demand. Their tongues twined in an intimate duel that neither would win nor lose, a duel that would end in beautiful moments of dying.

Their first kiss left him breathless. So feral, so full of need, he feared they would devour each other. She fumbled with the zipper on his sweatshirt. Stilling her hands, he tightened his arms around her until he held her so close he crushed her breasts against his chest. Her flesh felt hot, her heat life-giving. Life-affirming.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to his bathroom. There, votive candles cast a soft glow over the room. The ice bucket sweated on the wide ledge surrounding the bubbling water. He settled her there, on the ledge where, anticipating this moment, he had placed a thick, warm towel. And had hidden a condom in its folds.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” he whispered in her ear, and then gently laved its shell with his tongue. She shivered and a soft moan escaped her kiss-reddened lips. Every muscle in his body tightened and his cock swelled, urging him to take her now. To plunge fast and deep and never mind that he had not prepared her for his size or his need.

“Yes, please,” she said in a throaty murmur that made him want to bury himself in her mouth, in her cunt.

He filled a chilled glass, held it to her lips for a small sip and spilled the remainder down her chest.

“I shall clean you,” he muttered, his tongue lapping at first one swollen nipple, then the other. Her moans sounded like equal parts pleasure and pain. Her hands pressing down on his head assured him she felt mostly pleasure. “You like that, yes?”

“God, yes.”