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    Heat of the Moment: Kinky Siren Shorts, #1
    Heat of the Moment: Kinky Siren Shorts, #1
    Heat of the Moment: Kinky Siren Shorts, #1
    Ebook79 pages57 minutes

    Heat of the Moment: Kinky Siren Shorts, #1

    By Pippa Langhorn and Elizabeth Stevens

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    About this ebook

    From Elizabeth Stevens, writing as Pippa Langhorn, comes...
    A second chance at a Romantic Suspense story in the form of a short.

    When my uncle wakes me in the dead of night, shoves a box and an address into my hands and tells me to run, the last thing I expect is to be running for my life with a piece of stolen tech. One upside is that my life's now in the capable hands of an unnecessarily sexy man with a penchant for telling me to shut up and denying he's a spy. But the steamy passion that happens in the throes of an adrenalin-fuelled fight for survival may have to stay there. I can't be sure I'll see Luka again if I manage to make it out alive, let alone whether what we have still sparks as hot in the mundanity of normal life.

    This story was originally published in Guarded Hearts: A Protector Romance Anthology.
    Tropes: Grumpy/Sunshine, Heroine in peril, Military romance, One bed
    Content/Trigger Warnings: Violence/kidnapping, Guns/weapons, Car accident, Loss of grandparents

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKinky Siren
    Release dateJul 18, 2023
    ISBN9781923017085
    Heat of the Moment: Kinky Siren Shorts, #1

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      Book preview

      Heat of the Moment - Pippa Langhorn

      Heat of the

      MOMENT

      ALSO BY PIPPA LANGHORN

      Love to Hate You

      AS E.J. KNOX

      the Sinners of Saint Benedicts

      Gods & Angels

      Princes & Wolves

      Men & Monsters

      Rivermont Royals

      Reign

      Rival

      Rivermont Royals Reveals

      Obsess

      Infatuate

      Little Nymph

      Little Nymph

      Little Secret

      Immortals of Lionswood Academy

      Pawn takes Knight

      Knight take Bishop

      Princes of Rosewood Hall

      Prince of Thorns

      AS SCARLETT KNOX

      the Vampires of Knightsbridge

      Monster of Fate

      Heat of the

      MOMENT

      ELIZABETH STEVENS WRITING AS

      PIPPA LANGHORN

      Kinky Siren

      Heat of the Moment

      by Pippa Langhorn

      Print ISBN: 978-1923017092

      Digital ISBN: 978-1923017085

      Cover art by: Izzie Duffield

      Copyright 2022 Elizabeth Stevens

      Worldwide Electronic & Digital Rights

      Worldwide English Language Print Rights

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

      For Nel,

      Thanks for letting me distract you from your

      grapes for an hour.

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Love to Hate You

      Little Nymph

      Heat of the Moment

      Thanks

      My Books

      About the Author

      Chapter One

      Something woke me, but it took me a few moments to work out what it was. When I heard the indrawn hiss of pain and my uncle’s hushed Russian curse, I sat up slowly.

      Uncle–?

      Get up! Get up! he said, panic evident in his voice.

      I noticed all the lights in the house were out. All the power too, by the look of it, since my clock was dark. All I could make out were shadows from the moon coming in the window.

      What time is it? I asked.

      Get up, Gia! You must go, he said, then something in rapid Russian I couldn’t follow. Thirty years in the country, and Russian was still his go-to.

      There was a crash downstairs which made me jump.

      What’s going on?

      My uncle pressed a scrap of paper into my hand, looking about in fear. You must go to this address. Tell him I sent you.

      Why? Tell who?

      Another string of rapid Russian.

      Uncle, I don’t understand, I said, trying to get him to look at me.

      He turned to me, his eyes wide with fear. Go, Gia. They must not find you. Go to the address and give him this, he said, pressing a box into my other hand and proceeding to pull me out of bed. You must go. Go, now!

      I stumbled as my feet hit the floor. I started making my way to the door, but my uncle hissed, and I turned to find him opening my window.

      Go, Gia. Be safe, my girl. He gave me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek and pushed me towards the open window.

      I was awake enough by now that I could tell something was seriously wrong. What it was and why it had to be in the middle of the night, I didn’t know. I slid the box and the paper into my tank top, grabbed my phone, and clambered out the window.

      There was another crash from inside and my uncle hurriedly shut the window and disappeared. I made my way along the hedge and edged out into the street. Under the relative protection of the streetlamp, I pulled out the scrap of paper and read the address. It was one I sort of knew. The street was familiar anyway, only a couple of blocks from our house.

      Tucking the paper back into my top, I set off in the direction of the street, my heart racing a million miles an hour. Any moment now, someone could jump out of any of the familiar bushes in my neighborhood.

      Don’t think of that, just keep moving, I told myself.

      I wrapped my arms around myself and realized I was shivering as much from the cold as from fear and adrenalin.

      I crossed the streets, checking my surroundings constantly, but having no idea what I was looking for, until I finally made my way to the house my uncle had pointed me to. It didn’t look like anything special; much like my own with a manicured front garden and a double garage. I walked up to the

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