An unlikely duo, the golfing match from Hell, and a devil determined to win, even if he has to cheat. Lucifer’s up to his matchmaking mischief again in this fast-paced, humorous jaunt into the bowels of the pit. Think you can handle the heat?

“Fetch me a Scot,” Lucifer commands. Sounds simple, except the skirt-wearing jerk won’t cooperate. But Aella isn’t one to give up. Willing or not, she delivers her target to the Lord of Sin. In retaliation, the much-too-sexy Scot has Aella assigned as his bodyguard for the golfing match from Hell.

One shot ruined Niall’s life. A second shot could help him regain it. Niall sold his soul once to win a lady’s heart only to end up betrayed. Does he dare take a risk and give love a second chance?

**

Review

"Another hit from Eve. I just can't get enough of her evilly delicious characters and the outrageous circumstances they find themselves in." - says CaroleDee of Bitten By Paranormal Romance

"Eve has a unique sense of humor that tickles my funny-bone every time! Her brand of funny is twisted throughout her tales and in no way distracts from the hottness. Because those sex scenes are smokin!!!" - * says Close Encounters With The Night Kind*

From the Author

Excerpt:
     She sneezed behind him. "Ever hear of a Swiffer?"
     Flinging open a cupboard, he grabbed at the linen stuffed inside, almost threadbare but dry. "Dusting is woman's work."
     "Showing your age again, old man."
     He'd show her old. Whirling, he tossed a dry cloth at her and,as she caught it, undid the fastening to his soaked plaid. With a shrug, he dropped it to the floor.
     She ogled him, probably because he gave her something to ogle.Hands on his hips, erection jutting forth--a mighty one he'd notexperienced in centuries--he smirked at her. "Does this look old to you?"
     "Ack! I'm blind. Old man dick alert. Cover it up." Sheprotested with her mouth, yet her eyes remained locked on his bare body. He swelled to an even mightier size. "Good grief. Just how big doesthat thing get? Should I duck and cover before it explodes?"
     "Do ye never stop talking? I swear, lass. Ye chatter enough todrive a man insane. If I were your husband, I'd gag you." A subtlethrust of his hips let her know with what.
     She clamped her lips shut, but interestingly enough, she didn't turn away. Nor did she blush. Brazen wench. Still naked, he struttedpast her, feeling more than seeing her turn to watch as he knelt beforethe cold fireplace and tossed a few dry logs in. A strike of flint andhe coaxed a flame to life.
     While he'd taunted her into silence, he found he missed thedulcet mockery of her voice. He also wondered what she did behind hisback. Did she rub the coarse linen over her delicate-skinned body? Didshe stand naked in his home, still damp? Her mouth stilldefiant? Wearing only those decadent snakeskin boots?
     If he swelled any further, it would probably explode like she jested. Attempting to act casual, he turned around and almostgroaned in regret as he noted the threadbare linen covering her, sarongstyle. The wet lump of her toga hit him in the chest.
     "Hang that by the fire, would you? I didn't bring a spare, and I refuse to escort you back wearing a rag." Head held high, her imperious tone and attitude begged an answer.
     "I am not your servant." He flung her robe into the snappingflames at his back then smirked at her screech of rage as her togasizzled.
     "What did you do that for?"
     "Because."
     "What part of I don't have anything to wear did you not grasp, Scot?"
     "My name, lass, is Niall."
     "And mine is Aella, not lass. Use it or--"
     "Or what?"
     "I'll rip your tongue out and feed it to the carrion birds."
     "I'd like to see ye try." He dared her. Purposely. She growled, and her eyes narrowed to the merest slits. Her whole body vibrated with irritation.
     He'd never been so turned on.
     With nothing to lose, he decided to see how far he could go. He tread toward her on bare feet, entering her personal space, crowdingher. She held her ground, glaring, lips tight. He saw her hands tense at her sides, ready to respond to whatever threat he planned.
     But he had a different kind of assault in mind. One of hishands darted forward and clasped her by the wet ponytail hanging overher shoulder, and he yanked her to his bare chest before slanting hismouth over hers.
     For a moment, she held herself rigid as he let his lips slideover hers. Then, she bit him, hard enough to draw blood. He chuckledsoftly. "So ye like it rough? Lucky for both of us, so do I."

A Demon and Her Scot

Similar A Demon and Her Scot