The Stone Prince

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KATIE JAMES COASTED HER fingertips across the muscled chest before her. Warmth tingled through her arm, a drugging warmth more intoxicating than expensive champagne and moonlight kisses. Her lips parted on a wispy catch of breath as images of silk sheets, entwined bodies and slow, delicious caresses filled her mind.

How could this man affect her so powerfully, almost magically? How could he affect her at all when he’d never spoken a word to her? His face was beauty personified, yes, but that wasn’t enough to entrance her like this, to leave her weak and shaky every time she glanced at him.

There had to be something more to him, something elemental. Something beyond physical beauty that lured her every feminine desire. At the moment, though, she could not think past his physique, and slowly, so slowly her gaze moved over him. He was granite-hard, his abdomen ridged with sinew, his shoulders wide and firm. All of this gave his tall, sculpted frame a dangerous aura—dangerous and utterly sensual. He belonged in the woods with raw, naked branches surrounding him. Yet he stood outside among a brilliant crimson and yellow drapery of azaleas, somehow the absolute essence of masculinity.

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