Варвар: Воин Аттилы. Корона бургундов. Зов крови. Андрей Посняков

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Варвар: Воин Аттилы. Корона бургундов. Зов крови - Андрей Посняков

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      A virgin in the lion’s den…

      Tonight at the gaming tables of the impossibly exclusive gentleman’s club Q Virtus ruthless billionaire Narciso Valentino is finally about to destroy his enemy. But one look at the club’s curvaceous hostess assigned to see to his every need and he’s willing to delay the moment of satisfaction—for another kind altogether….

      Talented chef Ruby Trevelli is there to force Narciso to save her business—not give him her virginity. Yet beneath that lethally sexy exterior is a tortured man who believes himself beyond redemption, and Ruby is soon facing the ultimate temptation—with the ultimate playboy!

      ‘Don’t sell yourself short, sweetheart. I’d place you more as a deliciously forbidden dessert than as an appetiser. But one I intend to devour nonetheless.’

      ‘Look, Mr…?’

      Narciso raised a brow. ‘You’re at a masked event, shrouded in secrecy, embroiled in intrigue and mystery, and you want to know my name?’ he asked cynically.

      How could she have forgotten? ‘Why do I get the feeling that all this bores you rigid?’

      His eyes gleamed. ‘How very intuitive of you. You’re right, it does. Or it did until I saw you.’

      Ruby’s heart gave a little kick. One she determinedly ignored. ‘You were fully engaged when you played your game. And that had nothing to do with me.’

      Again that reminder hardened his eyes. ‘Ah, but I lost thirty million dollars so I could make what’s happening between us happen sooner.’

      ‘There’s nothing happening…’

      ‘If you believe that then you really are naïve.’


      Where the rich, powerful and passionate come to play!

      For years there have been rumours of a secret society where only the richest, the most powerful and the most decadent can embrace their every desire.

      Nothing is forbidden in this private world of pleasure.

      And when exclusivity is beyond notoriety only those who are invited to join ever know its name…

      Q Virtus

      Now the truth behind the rumours is about to be revealed!

      Find out in:


      by Maya Blake

      July 2014


      by Dani Collins

      August 2014


      by Victoria Parker

      September 2014

      The Ultimate Playboy

      Maya Blake


      MAYA BLAKE fell in love with the world of the alpha male and the strong, aspirational heroine when she borrowed her sister’s Mills & Boon® at the age of thirteen. Shortly thereafter the dream to plot a happy ending for her own characters was born. Writing for Harlequin® is a dream come true. Maya lives in South East England with her husband and two kids. Reading is an absolute passion, but when she isn’t lost in a book she likes to swim, cycle, travel and Tweet!

      You can get in touch with her

      via e-mail, at [email protected], or on Twitter: www.twitter.com/mayablake

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      To David and Peter.

      Life would be so much duller without you two!
















      New York

      NARCISO VALENTINO STARED at the box that had been delivered to him. It was large, made with the finest expensive leather, trimmed with velvet rope, with a horseshoe-shaped clasp made of solid twenty-four-carat gold.

      Normally, the sight of it brought anticipation and pleasure.

      But the ennui that had invited itself for a long-term stay in his life since he’d turned thirty last month leached excitement from him as the stock market leaked money after a juicy disaster.

      Lucia had accused him of turning into a boring old man right before her diva exit out of his life two weeks ago.

      He allowed himself a little grin of relief. He’d celebrated her departure with a boys’ weekend ski trip to Aspen where he’d treated himself to a little palate cleanser in the form of a very enthusiastic Norwegian ski instructor.

      But much too quickly, the jaded hollowness had returned.

      Rising from his desk, he strode to the window of his seventieth-floor Wall Street office and stared at the New York skyline. Satisfaction eased through him at the thought that he owned a huge chunk of this city.

      Money was sexy. Money was power. And The Warlock of Wall Street—as the newspapers had taken to calling him—never denied himself the pull of power and sex.


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