Elisabeth Naughton - Author of sexy romantic adventures and dark hot paranormals

Stolen Heat

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His past tore them apart. Her lies thrust them back together. Now a killer’s out for revenge, but the biggest threat for both may just be the heat they thought they’d already lost…

Antiquities dealer Peter Kauffman walked a fine line between clean and corrupt for years. And then he met the woman who changed his life—Egyptologist Katherine Meyer. Their love affair burned white-hot in Egypt, until the day Pete’s lies and half-truths caught up with him. After that, their relationship imploded, Kat walked out, and before Pete could find her to make things right, he heard she’d died in a car bomb.

Six years later, the woman Pete thought he’d lost for good is suddenly back. The lies this time aren’t just his, though. The only way he and Kat will find the truth and evade a killer out for revenge is to work together—as long as they don’t find themselves burned by the heat each thought was stolen long ago…

Read an Excerpt

The bitter cold woke him.

A shiver ran through Pete, rousing him from sleep. He blinked, opened his eyes and peered into utter darkness. For a moment he didn’t know which way was up. Then he registered the frigid leather beneath his cheek and the dead weight of his arm pinned beneath his body.

He pushed up slowly and immediately regretted the movement. The dull throb he’d felt behind his eyes when he’d been lying down kicked up to the roar of a Dophins game when he moved upright, and he closed his eyes again. He rubbed frozen fingers against his temples to abate the pounding in his skull and cringed as pain sliced through his skin.

What the…

He pulled his hand back, tried to squint to see what the wetness was on his fingers. It felt sticky and cold. Blood?

Okay, drinking himself into oblivion had been a really dumb idea, although he couldn’t remember drinking anything after dropping Maria off at her apartment. He must have fallen somehow and hit his head. Regardless, a thirty-eight-year-old man should know better.
When he felt certain he wasn’t going to black out, he opened his eyes and quickly realized something else wasn’t right.

He was still in the limo. He could feel the cold, Italian leather cradling his body, the hard floor at his feet. Around him was a blanket of some kind. He reached a hand out to test his surroundings and met vinyl and wood surrounding the wet bar.

He paused and listened, tried to figure out what was going on. The limo wasn’t moving, the engine wasn’t on, and there were no voices or even sounds for that matter.

Where was he? In an underground garage? If so, then where was the driver? Why had he been left in here all alone? And who had put this blanket on him?

His adrenaline shot up, and he moved closer to the window, cupped a hand against the glass and peered outside. Nothing. A black void met his eyes.

Slowly, and with cautious movements because his stomach was rebelling with every shift, he moved to the other side of the vehicle and did the same. Through the tinted glass, he could just make out what looked like a dim light coming from a distance away. A door? It looked like it, cracked open a few inches. If so, he was definitely in some kind of garage or building.

He pushed toward the Mercedes’ back door, caught the handle and gave it a shove. The exertion sent the pounding in his head up another notch, and he groaned. As he eased out of the vehicle, he wondered if staying inside hadn’t been the smarter choice. It was fucking freezing out here.

He wrapped his arms around himself, pulled the tux jacket tight against his body to conserve heat, and took slow steps toward the door ahead. The light was soft, as if from a lamp, and warmth radiated from the room before he even reached the threshold.
Heat was good. No matter what was on the other side of that door, it was better than staying out here and freezing his nuts off.

He placed one hand on the solid wood, more to steady himself than anything else, and pushed.

It was an apartment of some kind. The room stopped churning long enough so he could make out a TV in the far corner. Beat-up furniture filled the space. His wobbly gaze landed on the figure curled up in a ball on the sofa.

“Hey,” he said in a raspy voice he barely recognized. He cleared his throat as the figure stirred. He’d tear off someone’s head if he didn’t get the hell out of here and back to his suite at the Waldorf pronto. There was an Alka-Seltzer there with his name on it. “What the hell is going—”

The figure sat bolt upright, blinked several times and stared at him with big, brown, stunned eyes. And suddenly he couldn’t remember just what he’d wanted to know in the first place.

“Oh, shit,” he whispered.

The blood rushed from his head and went due south, leaving him lightheaded and shaky. No way this was happening. He was still drunk. That was the only explanation. He was tripped out on some seriously bad champagne and hallucinating because this wasn’t real. He wasn’t staring at Katherine Meyer alive and in the flesh because she was dead.

She rose slowly from the couch.

Stunned into silence, all he could do was stare as she rubbed her hands against her thighs and took a cautious step toward him.

It looked like Kat. A variation anyway. This woman’s hair was nearly black and cut short as a boy’s. But the face—holy hell—the face was the same. The same wide doe eyes, the same pouty lips, the same dark mole on the upper right side of her mouth.

“Pete. You startled me. I…are you okay?”

It sounded like her, too. His eyes widened in disbelief.

Her gaze darted over his face. “You look a little better. How do you feel?”

How did he feel? Like he’d just been hit by a bulldozer, head-on.

He barely managed to catch the door handle for support before his legs gave out. His mouth dropped open, a thousand questions fired off in his brain, and though he tried to form words, he couldn’t get his lips to work.

Hallucinating. You’re hallucinating, man. That’s the only explanation.

“I tried to move you, but you were like dead weight, and I, well, I’m a little tired after everything else. So I got you a blanket and left the door open. I know it was cold out there…”

Her words trailed off. And she closed her mouth quickly at what he knew had to be his stunned expression. Then sank her top teeth into her bottom lip the way Kat always had when she’d been shy or uncertain about something. “I guess you’re ready to chat. I think it’s safe to say you look a little surprised.”

Surprised?

No fucking way.

At a glance

Stolen Trilogy, Book 2
Romantic Suspense
January 11, 2012

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Awards

STOLEN FURY
2010 Double RITA Finalist
Best Romantic Suspense
Best First Book

2009 Judge a Book By Its Cover Finalist
Contemporary Romance

2009 Golden Leaf Finalist
Contemporary Romance

STOLEN HEAT
2010 Australian Romance Readers Awards Nominee
Best Romantic Suspense

Praise

“A rock solid debut…Naughton’s intelligent adventure plot is intensified by the blazing heat that builds from Lisa and Rafe’s first erotic encounter.”
Publisher’s Weekly on Stolen Fury

“Naughton deftly distills deadly intrigue, high adrenaline action, and scorchingly hot passion into a perfectly constructed novel of romantic suspense.”
Chicago Tribune on Stolen Fury

“This book has got it all: an adventure that keeps you turning the pages, an irresistible hero, and a smoking romance.”
All About Romance on Stolen Heat

“Stolen Heat is an awesome combination of deadly suspense, edgy action and a wonderful romance with characters that you’ll laugh, cry and yell with.”
Night Owl Romance on Stolen Heat

“This third book in the Stolen series is full of intrigue, secrets and undeniable love with characters you can’t get enough of…An awesome read!”
Fresh Fiction on Stolen Seduction

“An adventurous story of twists and turns, this story will keep you guessing until the very end. And the chemistry between Hailey and Shane is sizzling hot. Naughton combines passion and danger in one fast-paced story.”
News and Sentinel on Stolen Seduction

“A thrilling, seductive and well written page-turner that keeps you guessing till the last page!!”
Ripe For Reader on Stolen Chances

“Loved. Loved. Loved. Best in the series!”
Love Affair with an EReader on Stolen Chances

“A Wonderful story about yesterday and today with promises of forever!”
—Tea and Book on Stolen Chances

 

About the Series

Filled with globe-trotting adventure, steamy romance and riveting suspense, the Stolen books are red-hot romantic adventures that will appeal to fans of Romancing the Stone and Indiana Jones.

Each book in the STOLEN SERIES is a stand-alone, single title romantic adventure/suspense novel. While the characters recur from book to book, you do not need to read them in order (though it does help).

All the books in my STOLEN SERIES are linked in some way to an antiquities gallery in Miami Beach called Odyssey.

STOLEN FURY combines my love of Greek mythology and archaeology. The heroine, Lisa Maxwell, is a mini-female-version of Indiana Jones.

 

The love story in STOLEN HEAT is a combination of all things I love most about reunion stories – lies, betrayal, a deep emotional commitment, and two people who are meant to be together.

When I set out to write this series, I never intended to write STOLEN SEDUCTION. But I fell in love with the main characters—Shane & Hailey—who both appear in the first two books. After I got to know them better, I couldn’t not write their story.

StolenChancesFinal

STOLEN CHANCES is actually the first book I wrote in the Stolen Series, but it’s the last to be published. Maren and Thad both played an influential role in Lisa’s life, and their book is a steamy combination of heart-pounding romance, spine tingling suspense, and a love that transcends time.

Read the Epilogue to
STOLEN FURY

International Covers

 

Stolen Fury

STOLEN FURY
German Cover

 

Stolen Heat

STOLEN HEAT
German Cover

 

Stolen Heat

STOLEN SEDUCTION
German Cover