Cover Copy
Can their bond withstand the test of time?
Lauren isn’t looking for love when she spends a scintillating night with Reid, the sexy keyboardist of Thane’s Redemption. While their passion may be off the charts, her trust issues—and Reid’s secret life as a time-traveling covert agent—makes any chance for a relationship impossible.
When operatives involved in a mysterious project begin dying, Reid defies orders and travels alone into the future to find the cause. But when things go dangerously awry, it takes all of his strength to get himself back to safety—and directly onto Lauren’s doorstep. While neither of them remembers their night of passion, their intense connection leads Lauren to help him. But as Reid’s memories reignite, will he be forced to sacrifice everything to finish his mission—including the woman he loves?
“Super spicy sex scenes…will leave you begging for more!”
--Devilishly Delicious Book Reviews
Visit us at www.kensingtonbooks.com
Books by Nina Crespo
The Song series
Thane’s Redemption
Reid’s Deliverance
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
Reid’s Deliverance
The Song series
Nina Crespo
LYRICAL PRESS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
Copyright
Lyrical Press books are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2015 by Nina Crespo
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First Electronic Edition: March 2016
eISBN-13: 978-1-60183-542-0
eISBN-10: 1-60183-542-6
First Print Edition: March 2016
ISBN-13: 978-1-60183-543-7
ISBN-10: 1-60183-543-4
Printed in the United States of America
Dedication
To Life, Breath & Inspiration
Acknowledgements
Thank you to my own superhero for all of your patience and unfailing love and encouragement. To my editor Penny Barber and the rest of the team Kensington Publishing Corp/Lyrical – thank you for your guidance and support. Cathy—as always you rock! Maria—you’re the best ever! Love and thanks to "Team Nina" and my readers.
Chapter 1
The lead singer of Thane’s Redemption jumped on stage. He grabbed the mic and blended his rich baritone with the edgy rock beat.
Waves of sound filled The Song, and the packed audience of mostly women cheered.
Up-tempo guitar riffs and pounding drums brought them to their feet.
Lauren Blake danced. Audible sweetness and the dark-haired keyboardist intoxicated her.
Muscles flexed underneath the clean-cut hottie’s navy button-down shirt. The rock and thrust of his jean-clad hips inspired fantasies of holding on for a sinful ride. As he played a rapidly building chord, he scanned the crowd. His gaze lingered where she jammed with Ari and Celine.
Her heart rate ticked up.
Silly, he’s not staring at you. Interacting with the crowd was part of the gig.
The band launched into a cover of a popular song.
Lauren plopped down in the curved, faux leather chair at the table.
Celine sang the lyrics along with the band. Dark hair skimmed her shoulders as she shimmied to the beat. Finally, she was enjoying life.
As Lauren fanned her face, she winked at Ari.
Plum-colored lip tint complimented her friend’s light brown complexion along with her smile. “Mission accomplished.”
Celine had given them hell about going out tonight. Still, they’d zipped her into a killer red dress and dragged her from the apartment. Her having a good time now made up for the massive attitude. Not to mention, she’d snagged Thane. The tall lead singer had a silky-looking mane most women would die for; a muscular build, and, from what she’d heard, mesmerizing golden eyes. He was the sexiest guy in the band. Well, one of the sexiest.
Thane sat down on a stool center stage with an acoustic guitar. He dedicated the next song to Celine.
The sensual rumba-styled melody captivated most of the women in the audience. The rest shot eye-daggers in their direction. Lauren flipped her hair and gave the haters pointed looks. Please. They needed to get over it. Celine more than deserved the attention.
Lauren immersed herself in the lyrics. They were an invitation for one night of passion. The chords hummed through her veins. Images drifted in of the keyboardist wrapping her in his arms. His caresses floating over her. His wicked, tantalizing kisses weakening her knees.
Prickles gathered along her spine.
He looked her direction.
Her face grew hot, and she squeezed her thighs together, quelling the ache. It was dumb to entertain the illusion, especially with her good-man indicator on the fritz. Hadn’t she learned her lesson after consistently picking out so many duds? Her handy hell-no list did ferret out the worst. Mama’s boys and cable sports junkies. In-between-jobs types who wanted to use her as their personal ATM. Commitment-phobes who didn’t “do” relationships. Courtesy of the last loser, double hell-no to self-centered pricks. No amount of talented cock could make up for pure asshole. And, of course, no heroes committed to protecting the world—military, police, not even those cute firemen at the local station. Nothing against dedication, but the sacrifices they made for their jobs ruined relationships.
The ballad ended to thunderous applause.
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