(Currently out of print)
Loving an Immortal was never easy...without her memories it might be impossible.
Five years of happiness, erased in one vicious act of violence.
Diana freed Alric from his prison and the insanity of his own mind, offering him the kind of love only a fool would deny. Now she lies broken and comatose from a vampire attack, locked deep inside herself where he cannot reach her.
Awakening in a strange bed, Diana has no memory of how she got there. The huge, muscled man leaning over her is straight out of nightmares full of blood and pain. Married to him? It can’t be true…even if her body craves his touch, and the anguish in his eyes shatters something deep inside her.
Alric has no intention of giving up on the woman who never stopped fighting for him. His one hope is that time will heal her mind. But with a demon god poised to tip the balance of power, time is not on their side…
Alric lifted a hand to her face, lightly trailing a curled finger down her cheek. Callused and rough, but warm on her skin.
She started, her gaze jerking back up to his. His hand was too large, like the rest of him. She knew very well there was little she could do if he decided to use that size and strength against her.
And so did he.
It should scare the crap out of her, but even so, she didn’t pull back from him.
He touched her with such gentle care, almost trepidation. As if he were more afraid of her, of what she might do, than she was of him. Curiosity rode her. If by some fantastical twist of fate this man was telling her the truth, then she would know from his kiss.
More to the point, if he kissed her and she felt nothing, then they would both know it. She would be able to put aside the ridiculous uncertainty that continued to torment her once and for all, and maybe he would even let her go.
His gaze shifted to her mouth before he closed the distance. Warm, firm...but light. He was giving her all the time in the world to reject his touch and pull away. When she didn’t do so immediately, he groaned and leaned in closer. There was nothing demanding in his kiss, and yet she felt as if she were being marked, as if this one kiss could break down all of her walls and leave her shivering and vulnerable.
“Diana.” He murmured her name as if it were made to be uttered in his deep voice, his breath stealing between her slightly parted lips. His hand curved around the back of her head, holding her to him with the gentlest of tethers as he slid his tongue across her lips.
The kiss changed. From soft and unthreatening, to one that hungered—and dared her to feed the hunger. Accept it. Crave it.