LORA LEIGH BREEDS TEMPTING THE BEAST PDF

The main characters are basically human-like animals or animal-like humans and they are the results of experiments. Outside they look completely human, they dont shift these are not shifterss books! Breeds are partly animals in their DNA. They were created and the main reason for their creation is to be soldiers. They have intense hearing and smell, they are strong and they can endure pain and the most inhuman conditions and of course they are soldiers they have tactical behavior and strong instincts.

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Dedicated to: My Husband Tony Just because he makes life wonderful. At five feet five inches, it was damned hard to convince the males of her family, all over six feet, that she was serious about anything.

But in this one instance, she knew she had no other choice. Merinus refused to give into his baiting. John Tyler was the one to convince, not his moron upstarts.

She hated makeup, despised dresses and social functions and she heard often how she was a disappointment to the female race, according to her brothers. She wanted to be a journalist; she wanted to make a difference. She wanted to stand before the man whose picture lay on the table before her and see if his eyes were really that brilliant amber. Perhaps she was more woman than they knew.

She was obsessed. Merinus silently admitted to it, and knew she would play hell trying to hide it. But he would listen to a woman.

Their father listened to him where she was concerned and if he decided it was too dangerous, then there was no way John Tyler would allow her to go. I want this chance. I deserve it. She suppressed a shiver at the thought. A genetic experiment conceived in a test tube, carried to term by a surrogate and inheriting the genes of the animal his DNA had been altered with.

A man with all the instincts and hunting abilities of a lion. A perfectly human looking male. A man bred to be a savage killer. Merinus had read the notes, experiments and the thirty-year journal of the scientist who carried him within her body.

It was she who had the box ready to be delivered to John in the event of her death. He was to find her surrogate son at the location she had given. Help him defeat the secret Genetics Council by convincing him to come forward, making a way for him to find safety. She had enough proof to get them digging.

Kane had done the rest. They had names of the Council, proof of their involvement, everything but the man they created. The others were silent, but Merinus knew they would voice their opinions soon enough. Merinus took a deep breath. A woman, whether in pants or a dress will draw more attention from a man than any other man will. The basic male threat. She lowered her eyes, staring down at the bleak loneliness reflected through glossy paper.

His eyes mesmerized her, even in the picture. There were decades of sadness reflected there. He was thirty years old now, single, alone. A man without a family or even a race to call his own. How terrible it must be, and to be hunted as well was a tragedy. Merinus could feel eight sets of eyes on her, varying degrees of disapproval reflected in their expressions.

I can handle the research part, Merinus can make contact. Shock echoed along her body as she realized that the brother who suffocated her the most was actually willing to help her in this. It was hard to believe. He was an ex-Special Forces commander as bossy as any man ever born. For the first time she looked directly at him.

His expression was cool, but his eyes were angry. Deep and hot with fury, the dark blue orbs met hers without their usual light of teasing mockery. The intensity in his look almost frightened her. And a pissed Kane was not a good thing. Merinus was aware of her father sitting back in his seat, watching the eldest son now with surprise.

I thought you would be ready for a rest? If she can be ready to leave tonight, then we can do this her way. We have an eight-hour drive ahead of us and I want to do some recon before morning. Merinus could only watch him silently, amazed at his decision. What the hell was up with this? He ignored the heated protests of his other brothers. His eyes went dead. As though no life or light resided inside him. It was a scary look. The room silenced. No one but no one messed with Kane when he looked like that.

Merinus trained her binoculars on the vision below her, stretched out in the warming rays of the sun, as naked as a man could be and more than a little aroused. That gorgeous, heavily veined shaft of male flesh rose a good eight inches—no less, could be more—from the base below his flat abdomen. It was thick and long and mouth-wateringly tempting. She blew out a hard breath, lying flat on the rock she had found, the only viewpoint into the small sheltered back yard.

Callan Lyons was tall. At least six feet, four inches, muscular, broad chested and narrow hipped, with powerful thighs and the most gorgeous damned legs she had ever seen. It could give a girl ideas. Ideas like how it would feel to lie next to him, rub over him, kiss that smooth, golden skin. She shivered at the thought. She and Mr. Lyons had been playing an amusing little game for over a week now. It had gone so far as direct conversation several times.

Papers, notes, memos, pictures, the whole nine yards. She had studied the man for weeks before demanding this story. So here she was, on the story of her life, and instead of the investigative reporting she should be doing on the man below, she was watching him sun himself.

But what a sight. Tanned, muscular skin. Long, golden brown hair, the color of the lion that was supposedly infused into his DNA structure. A strong, bold face, gorgeous, almost savage in its planes and angles.

And lips, full male lips with just a hint of a merciless curve. She wanted to kiss those lips. She wanted to start with his lips and kiss and lick her way down. Across that broad chest, the hard, flat stomach to the erection rising from between his tanned thighs. She licked her lips at the thought. She jerked as she felt her cell phone vibrating at her hips. She grimaced impatiently. She knew who it was. It had to be her oldest, most aggravating brother. She was rather proud that her eyes never once strayed from all that male glory below.

I have an appointment later today with a woman willing to talk about the mother. She was murdered in her own home.

You know how I hate that. Sweet Heaven. She watched as his hand moved to his scrotum, not to scratch as she assumed, but to caress, stroke. There went her damned blood pressure. There was a weary sigh across the line. Offered him the deal Dad has set up? Fuck your life. Getting there. He was going to masturbate.

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At five feet five inches, it was damned hard to convince the males of her family, all over six feet, that she was serious about anything. But in this one instance, she knew she had no other choice. Merinus refused to give into his baiting. John Tyler was the one to convince, not his moron upstarts. She hated makeup, despised dresses and social functions and she heard often how she was a disappointment to the female race, according to her brothers.

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