Sweet the Sin
Revenge Saga # 1
By: Claire Kent
Releasing July 7, 2015
Loveswept
Sweet The Sin
Sweet The Sin
Revenge Saga Series
In the first novel in USA Today bestselling author Claire Kent’s deeply sensual story of love, lust, and deception, a woman searching for the truth discovers that she’s sleeping with the enemy.
Portrait artist Kelly Watson keeps her relationships simple and steamy, with no strings attached. She’s had a hard time trusting other people since she was a child, when her father was murdered for trying to blow the whistle on corporate corruption. Nearly twenty years later, Kelly finds herself in the arms of a seductive stranger—the very same man who may have ordered her father’s death. And even as she plays him, using hot sex as a means to revenge, Kelly is tormented by one question: Is she committing the ultimate betrayal?
Caleb Marshall has spent decades forging a high-powered career, rejecting intimacy for the convenience of fast women and cheap thrills. But Kelly intrigues him, pushing commitment buttons he didn’t know he had. Still, something is wrong. Despite their physical and emotional chemistry, Caleb feels the fear inside of her. Now the only way to keep her safe is coming clean, before secrets and lies destroy their connection—no matter how deep, intense, and addictive it may be.
“Pet
portraits?”
the man asked skeptically, with that same smug laughter in his eyes.
“What’s
your point?”
“Nothing.
You’re
just that type, aren’t
you?”
“What
type?”
“Pet
portrait artist. At one with the universe. Lover of flowers and trees
and all furry creatures. Filling the world with pretty objects and
warm fuzzies. I bet they call you Blossom, don’t
they?” His tone was bone dry, as if far above such sentiment.
He
probably was. She could tell even from their brief interaction that
he was too intelligent, too experienced, too competent to have
patience with anything trite or saccharine.
She
liked that about him. Despite her intentionally bohemian appearance
just now, she was as far as possible from those feelings herself.
“You
don’t
know me at all,” she said, pleased at the cool aloofness of her
tone.
It
just made him smile. When his dog lay down with the Frisbee, panting
blissfully, the man started walking toward him, evidently expecting
Kelly to fall in step with him. “I know a little about you. I know
you paint pet portraits. I know you’re
wearing vegan sandals and are reluctant to cut your hair. And I know
you have on your bracelet various charms of dogs, cats, birds, and
flowers.” He arched his eyebrows. “I think I’ve
got a pretty clear sense of you.”
The
bracelet was stupid, but her clients always liked it, and her hair
was indeed very long, hanging down to the small of her back. But this
arrogant man couldn’t be more wrong.
He
might be eerily observant, but he knew nothing.
“Is
that right?” she replied, giving him arched eyebrows in response.
“You might be surprised about me. But there’s
no way I’d
be surprised about you. I’d
know your type in my sleep.”
“Blossom,
you could know my type in your sleep, if you asked nicely.”
She
felt another tingle of excitement at the sexiness of his tone but
ignored it. “You wear a suit to work every day, don’t
you?”
“What
does that have to do with anything?”
“Nothing.
It’s
just your type. You’re
one of those guys who wears a business suit like armor—going
through the world as if the nameplate on your office entitles you to
whatever you want. As if your bank account makes you superior.”
The
words weren’t
particularly gentle, but he looked interested rather than offended.
“What makes you think I have anything impressive in my bank
account?”
“Please.
I know roughly how much that watch you’re
wearing costs.”
Because
of the Watsons, her adoptive parents, Kelly was in good shape
financially, but she didn’t
own anything except her car that cost as much as the watch he was
wearing.
“And
I bet you’re
wondering why would I spend money on something so superficial when I
could be donating it to all the homeless animals in the world?”
Again, he was teasing in that intimate way, as if he really did know
her.
“I’m
not like that,” she told him, speaking only the truth.
“Sure
you aren’t.”
He flashed her a grin. “What happened to your client, anyway?”
Kelly
had actually forgotten about her client, so absorbed in the
conversation had she been. She gave a little jerk and turned back to
scan the park, focusing on the entrance, but there was no sign of
another man with a German shepherd. “I think I’ve
been stood up. It happens sometimes.”
Just
then, her phone chirped with another text, so she reached in to pull
it out of her bag. “Maybe that’s
him.”
When
she focused on the screen, she realized it wasn’t
her client. Are
you sure? I’d make it worth your while. Promise.
She
sighed. Jesse. Why
the hell wouldn’t he just give up?
“Not
your client,”
the man beside her said.
She
glanced up. “How do you know?”
“I’m
pretty good at reading expressions. Who is it? Your boyfriend being
annoying?”
He
was actually quite close. Impressive, given that they were strangers.
“No. Just a guy who won’t
take no for an answer.”
“He
has my sympathy.”
She
sucked in a breath. “Why should he have your sympathy?”
He
had that smug, heated amusement in his eyes again. “To get a taste
of a hot little thing like you—and then get the door slammed in his
face? Can’t
help but feel sorry for him.”
“I
didn’t
slam the door in his face. I was nothing but honest with him. He’s
the idiot who ignored what I told him and keeps bumbling on toward
something he already knows he can’t
have.”
The
man chuckled and reached out to run his fingers gently down a long
strand of her hair. “It doesn’t
matter what you tell him, blossom. You’ve
got this gorgeous, untouched sweetness about you. It’s
like a promise and a challenge.”
Her
whole body went hot at the texture of his words, at the tension and
power she could feel in his hand, his shoulders, his gaze.
She
knew what he was referring to. She’d
been born with clear creamy skin, pink cheeks, big blue eyes, and a
heart-shaped face that gave the impression of innocence. There was no
way she could dress that would change her natural look, even though
she’d
desperately tried when she was younger.
“Don’t
assume the way I look is the way I really am,” she said, her pulse
starting to throb in her wrists and her throat. She knew how to
recognize the look in this guy’s
eyes.
He
wanted her.
And
despite his smug superiority—or maybe because of it—she wanted
him too.
Claire Kent has been writing romance novels since she was twelve years old. She has a PhD in British literature and, when she’s not writing, teaches English at the university level. She also writes contemporary romance under the pen name Noelle Adams.
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