Desire In His Eyes by Kaitlin O'Riley

but not the personality to match. That was the most deceptive part about Juliette Hamilton. She looked like an angel but she certainly was not angelic.
    Harrison was so captivated by her sweet face that he didn’t see the blow coming. In one swift movement, Juliette slapped him across the cheek with a stinging crack.

6
Can’t Live Without Them
    Juliette stared angrily at Harrison, her handprint clearly visible on his face. His stormy eyes narrowed and she swallowed. Resisting the temptation to wring her hands, she kept her arms at her sides. The slap probably hurt her more than it hurt him, but she’d never let him know that.
    For a split second she feared he was going to hit her back.
    But he didn’t. He wouldn’t. Yet he still held her face in his hands.
    Neither of them moved.
    They stared at each other for an endless moment. Something tangible crackled in the air between them, and Juliette could barely breathe.
    Suddenly one hand grabbed the back of her head, roughly pulling her toward him. Harrison’s mouth came down on hers and he kissed her. Again. But oh, this was not at all like the way he kissed her earlier…This was a hard kiss. A demanding kiss. A kiss full of frustration, passion, and even anger. She locked her arms around his neck and gave in to his assaulting kiss, matching his fervor with her own.
    They kissed. And kissed. And kissed.
    It was as if someone had ignited an incredible flame between them. Their fiery encounter earlier that afternoon seemed mild compared with the intensity of this one. They did not speak. Harrison did not utter a word. He just continued to kiss her until she thought she would faint from the pleasure of it, the sheer sensation of it.
    Their breaths came in short gasps and she clung to him for support. She was dizzy and weak with feelings and desires she had never experienced.
    His tongue possessed her mouth and intertwined with her own in a kiss so intimate, surely it had to be wrong. Sinful even. If it was, she didn’t care. She didn’t want to know if it was wrong or even entertain the mere possibility of it being wrong. She only wanted more of him. More of this man she barely knew.
    And yet here she was, on his ship, in his bed, on her knees, kissing him. The utter excitement of the situation overwhelmed her being.
    His hand move down her back, pressing her closer to him, and sending delightful shivers through her body. That same hand, firm and sure, then slid up the length of her, outlining the flare of her hip, along the curve of her waist until he cupped her breast. She gasped into his mouth and he kissed her harder, if such a thing were even possible.
    Suddenly he used both hands to pull on the front of her men’s shirt, ripping the buttons loose, sending them flying across the room, and tearing the remaining fabric in half. He pulled the shirt from her arms, leaving her only in her thin chemise. Juliette did not protest. She could not. Not when she wanted him. Not when she wanted to tear the clothes from her own body herself. Not when she wanted to tear his clothes off as well.
    Reaching out, she tugged on his shirt front, mimicking the motion he had made, but her hands trembled so much her fingers could do nothing more than cling to the fabric.
    Finally, Harrison tore his mouth from hers. Again they stared at each other, their eyes locked in a magnetic gaze, unable to break free. His stormy gray eyes mesmerized her. The handsome planes of his face. The bronzed tone of his skin. The golden streaks in his hair. The windswept scent of him. The strength and wildness of him intrigued her. She had never met anyone quite like Harrison Fleming. He did not care what she wanted or what she thought. He ordered her about and carried her bodily where he wanted her. He did not treat her with deference and admiration as other men did. She was unable to resist the feel of him and the wild sensations he created within her. Juliette tugged on the front of his shirt pulling him