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I received a reviewer’s copy of this book from Indie Sage PR in exchange for an honest review and as part of the book’s blog tour promotions.

Here’s the thing, I wanted to dislike this book. Honestly. I found the heroine to be dense. I found the hero to be too intense. I didn’t think there would be a middle ground for them. I didn’t believe there would be any happy ending.

There’s a big BUT that’s coming, though.


I really couldn’t dislike the book. For all my complaints about the hero and the heroine, Mandi Beck did a good job bringing them to life, almost as real as any other person you know. The reason why I found the heroine to be dense was that she was like any other real person. Like us, we don’t always see what is in front of our eyes. Other people see it; other people convince us about it, but we don’t see it. That’s Frankie for you, ladies and gentlemen. And the hero? Well, I’d like to believe that any man who fought professionally would be as intense as him, if not more.

I wish this book did not have to end on a cliffhanger. I’m all for instant gratification, folks. But, oh well, I thinkI may really have to be patient now. I’m excited to find out more about what happens to Frankie and Deacon, and I do so wish they’d be together again because I really think Deacon deserves to be happy for once.





Frankie is just walking out of the bathroom when I grab her by the wrist and pull her into an alcove that has an ancient looking payphone and nothing else except really dim lighting.

“Deacon!” she yelps when I push her gently against the wall.

“Show me,” I whisper against her ear, pressing into her, molding her softness into the hard lines of my body. I don’t pull away; I just keep my lips to the shell of her ear, waiting for her response.

“Show you what?” she breathes against my neck.

“Don’t play with me, Princess, I’m all out of control for the night. I used every last bit of it when I watched Rico Suave put his hands on you. Show. Me,” I growl.

“Rico Suave?” she asks with an almost exasperated giggle. “Deac, there is no way in hell that I am showing you, especially in a bar, you ass!” Her voice says that she’s angry with me, but her hands at my back clutching my shirt, pressing me closer to her, say something different.

“Where is it? On that perfect ass of yours?” I ask as I bring my hand from the wall and slide it over her waist, over the swell of her hip, then behind her to cup one rounded cheek.

She shakes her head that I’m wrong, eyes wide at the path my hand just took, no doubt.

“Tell me that you didn’t put it right above your pretty, little pussy, Frankie.” I nip her ear and groan into her hair when she gasps and presses tighter into my chest. The hand that isn’t on her ass cradles the back of her head, my fingers tangling into her hair, tilting her head a bit to give me better access to her neck and the pulse that I can see there. I lower my head and place a kiss on that rapidly beating spot and then swipe my tongue across it, eliciting yet another sound out of her that is part moan, part plea.

“Deacon, we cannot do this here. What the hell is with you and walls anyway?” she asks in a somewhat amused voice.

“I don’t know what it is. I just need to feel you—all of you—and this seems to be what happens when I reach a point where I can’t deny myself anymore. Stop making me deny myself, Frankie. I don’t like it.”

The last part leaves my mouth without me even realizing what I’m saying. Not that I don’t mean it, I’m just not sure that I want her to know how much power she actually has over me. I shake the thought off—I’ve had too much to drink to analyze those kinds of things right now. I go back to trailing kisses across her jaw, ending at her ear, where I again nip the lobe.

“Are you gonna show me, baby, or should I keep guessing?” I ask her softly.

She manages to get her hands in between us and gives a little shove to my chest. “No, Deac, I am most definitely not going to show you,” Frankie tells me, her tone firm.

“Okay, you don’t have to show me, but I’ll tell you right now, I find out that you showed your ‘sensitive areas’ to Cristiano or anyone else, I’m gonna knock heads, Princess.”

She snorts at me, and it does nothing but make me harder.

“I’ll show my sensitive areas to whomever I want, Deac. I don’t belong to you!” she huffs out in that raspy voice of hers. I can hear the lie in her words though. I hope that she can too.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Frankie,” I tell her, and mean it.


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