Authors: Delaney Diamond
“Say it,” Samirah said in a choked voice. “Ask me.”
He looked intently at her, and she saw the love there. “Will you marry me?”
His image blurred before her eyes, and she couldn’t speak. All she managed was a nod.
“I can’t believe I’ve finally found a way to shut you up.”
She laughed, tears of happiness flowing down her cheeks. “It’s temporary, so enjoy it while you can.” She brushed the tears away. “Yes,” she said. “Yes! Yes!
Sí!
Oui! Sim
! Yes!”
She ran and jumped into his arms. He stumbled backward, but he was strong, bracing his body and maintaining his balance before they toppled backwards.
“What would you have done if I’d hated it?”
He chuckled softly. As always, the sound was so inviting and sensual it sent warm ripples through her belly. “I don’t know. I would have been stuck with a lease on a property I couldn’t use.” He squeezed her tight. “Samirah, Samirah,” he whispered. “I love you.”
She covered his face in kisses. “I love you, too, Miguel. I’ll always love you. Always.”
The End
About the Author
Delaney Diamond (delaneydiamond.com) was born and raised in the
U.S.
Virgin Islands
and has been an avid reader for as long as she can remember. She is the bestselling author of sweet and sensual romance with multicultural characters.
In her spare time she reads romance novels, mysteries, thrillers, and a fair amount of nonfiction. A diehard foodie, when her head’s not buried in a book, she’s in the kitchen trying out new recipes or dining at her favorite restaurants with friends. She speaks fluent conversational French and can get by in Spanish.
Excerpt from Fight For Love, Book 2 of the Hot Latin Men series.
Science teacher Rebekah Jamison lives a quiet life in the suburbs of
Atlanta
. Devastated by a tabloid scandal nine years ago, she ended her marriage to the man her parents never approved of.
Rafael Lopez, former professional wrestler and “Sexiest Athlete Alive,” regrets the lapse in judgment that caused him to lose his wife. He shows up unannounced one day with some startling news, but he gets a surprise of his own. He finds out he’s a father. To get to know his son, he whisks him and Rebekah off to his home in the Hollywood Hills for the summer.
Excerpt
“You used to like my massages.” His voice lowered even more.
Magic hands, she used to call him. Once he’d eased the tension in her shoulders and back, he would ease the aching in her loins with firm, sure strokes.
“Relax,” he said, taking matters into his own hands and turning her around so she faced the table. His long fingers began to move in a soothing motion across the knotted muscles. “You’re really tense,
amada
.”
The initial touch of his hands sent jolts of electricity darting across her skin. Despite his size and strength, his fingers moved gently across her shoulder blades, kneading the tight tissue with the skill of a professional masseur. Having been an athlete for years, he’d mastered the technique of manipulating the various muscles. He applied the right amount of pressure, and her eyes drifted closed. She had no choice but to let go and soften to his touch.
“That’s better,” he whispered.
The warmth exuding from him caressed her skin, making the back of her neck tingle. The slow ascension of arousal began somewhere deep inside her and climbed at a steady pace through her body.
He abandoned her shoulder to encircle one wrist and brought the back of her hand to his lips. Her eyes flew open.
The other hand slid down the length of the A-line skirt, smoothing over the roundness of her hip. She heard him take a deep breath. “Now I remember.” His voice rumbled close to her ear. “Pomegranate Orchard is the name of the scent you wear.”
“Rafe, I’ve already warned you.” She retrieved her hand with a firm twist. A pulsing awareness thrummed through her, making her breathless and needy, wanting him with every fiber of her being. She turned to face him.
Bracing a hand on either side of her, he trapped her between him and the round table. “I’m not good at following directions.”
“Keep your hands to yourself.”
“You didn’t mind a moment ago.”
“I mean it.” She didn’t sound as harsh as she wanted to.
A crooked, unconcerned smile appeared on his face. “Well, if you don’t want my hands on you,” he said, “maybe my mouth is more to your liking.”