Say My Name by J. Kenner - Fiction eBook
I never let anyone get too close—but he's the only man who's ever made me feel alive.
Meeting Jackson Steele was a shock to my senses. Confident and commanding, he could take charge of any room . . . or any woman. And Jackson wanted me. The mere sight of him took my breath away, and his touch made me break all my rules.
Our bond was immediate, our passion untamed. I wanted to surrender completely to his kiss, but I couldn't risk his knowing the truth about my past. Yet Jackson carried secrets too, and in our desire we found our escape, pushing our boundaries as far as they could go.
Learning to trust is never easy. In my mind, I knew I should run. But in my heart, I never felt a fire this strong—and it could either save me or scorch me forever.
Say My Name is intended for mature audiences.
Praise for Say My Name
"Readers who need more of Kenner's racy, sizzling Stark novels will delight in this new series, set in the same decadent, lavish world. . . . Kenner has crafted a hero whose compassion is remarkable, and who is strong enough not only to apologize and to change, but to offer her the kind of love she wants and needs, as well. . . . Fans of dark, intense and emotionally scorching romances will surely adore this series opener."—RT Book Reviews
"It's a heady mix of love and intrigue, and Kenner continues to deliver a knockout experience that made me long for the next book even as I was more than satisfied with this story's ending. To say more would give too much away, and I encourage everyone who loved the original Stark trilogy to read Say My Name to find out what's there for themselves."—The Romance Evangelist
"J. Kenner has given us one hell of a story with this start to the Stark International series. And if anyone can give Damien Stark a run for his money, it's Jackson Steele."—Cocktails and Books
"If you enjoyed the Stark novels, you are going to love Say My Name!"—Reading Keeps Me Sane
"J. Kenner's best work to date. . . . The pull between these two is off the charts. They have this intense chemistry that pretty much makes their sexy times go through the roof! . . . It was great getting to see Nikki and Damien again. . . . Even though I know them from their series, they seem fresh. . . . J. Kenner knocked it out of the park with this one. Five-off-the-charts-hot-stars!"—About That Story
"J. Kenner never fails to provide a gripping and passionate story. Say My Name takes you to the edge and then pushes you over. Not that I was expecting anything less, but Jackson Steele is the perfect addition to the Stark series. . . . I cannot wait to see what unfolds next. . . . More Jackson! More please."—Obsessed with Myshelf
From the Trade Paperback edition.
The thwump-thwump of the helicopter's rotors fills my head like a whisper, a secret message that I cannot escape. Not him, not now. Not him, not now.
But I know damn well that my plea is futile, my words flat. I can't run. I can't hide. I can only continue as I am--hurtling at over a hundred miles per hour on a collision course with a destiny I thought I had escaped five years ago. And with the man I'd left behind.
A man I tell myself I no longer want--but can't deny that I desperately need.
I clutch my fingers tighter around the copy of Architectural Digest in my lap. I do not need to look down to see the man on the cover. He is as vivid in my mind today as he was back then. His hair a glossy black, with just the slightest hint of copper when the sun hits it just so. His eyes so blue and deep you could drown in them.
On the magazine, he sits casually on the corner of a desk, his dark gray trousers perfectly creased. His white shirt pressed. His cuff links gleaming. Behind him, the Manhattan skyline rises, framed in a wall of glass. He exudes determination and confidence, but in my mind's eye, I see even more.
I see sensuality and sin. Power and seduction. I see a man with his shirt collar open, his tie hanging loose. A man completely at home in his own skin, who commands a room simply by entering it.
I see the man who wanted me.
I see the man who terrified me.
I remember the way his skin felt as it brushed mine. I even remember his scent, wood and musk and a hint of something smoky.
Most of all, I remember the way his words seduced me. The way he made me feel. And now, here above the Pacific, I can't deny the current of excitement that runs through me, simply from the prospect of seeing him again.
And that, of course, is what scares me.
As if to emphasize that thought, the helicopter banks sharply, sending my stomach lurching. I reach out to steady myself, pressing my hand against the window as I look out at the deep indigo of the Pacific below me and the jagged Los Angeles coastline receding in the distance.
"We're on our approach, Ms. Brooks," the pilot says a short while later, his voice crystal clear through my headphones. "Just a few more minutes."
I don't like air travel, and I especially don't like helicopters. Perhaps I have an overactive imagination, but I can't seem to shake the mental image of dozens of absolutely essential screws and wires getting wiggled loose by the persistent motion of these constantly vibrating machines.
I've come to accept that I can't avoid the occasional trip by plane or helicopter. When you work as the executive assistant to one of the world's wealthiest and most powerful men, air travel is just part of the package. But while I've resigned myself to that reality--and even managed to become somewhat Zen about the whole thing--I still get all twisted up during takeoff and landing. There's something horribly unnatural about the way the earth rises up to meet you, even while you are simultaneously careening toward the ground.
Not that I can actually see any ground. As far as I can tell, we're still entirely over water, and I am just about to point out that little fact when a slice of the island appears in my window. My island. Just seeing it makes me smile, and I draw in one breath and then another until I actually feel reasonably calm and somewhat put together.
Of course, the island...