By Robin D. Owens
In the world of Celta, the place psychic abilities thrive and needs flourish, Straif Blackthorne is the final of his type. After his relatives dies as a result of a genetic ailment, Straif is set to discover a therapy and rebuild his background. not anything else matters--until he meets Mitchella Clover. yet Straif can't supply Mitchella his center, for she is not able to endure young children. purely while tragedy threatens to damage them do they observe what really concerns, and what they really suggest to one another.
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Additional resources for Heart Choice (Celta's HeartMates, Book 4)
She wanted to pull the boy to her, but he'd sneered a few months ago that he was too big for that anymore. " His lips compressed—old gang secrecy? Then he shook his head, stopped the holostone, and tossed it to a mat on her desk. "We ran there. The Triad," he spoke jerkily. "Got a girl. " He smiled humorlessly and looked far older than his twelve years. "T'Ash got her back. We all ended up at T'Blackthorn's. Guess that's where T'Ash hid when he was a kid on the streets. " Mitchella knew the story now.
With the brown leather benches in the booths and a touch of brass in the accessories, it was supposed to appeal more to the masculine patrons, but she'd ensured that a woman would feel comfortable, too. A bit of pleasure warmed her. She'd done a good job here, and every place she'd consulted. Why was it so difficult getting commissions? She tapped her fingers on the table and noticed her nail tint had faded. Feeling like she wanted something a little more elegant than the jade that matched her onesuit, she concentrated.
Mitchella barely kept herself from goggling at T'Blackthorn's casual wave of a hand as he outlined the reconstruction. Drina flexed her paw, and the model room vanished as the card spun to the carpet. It was just a business card again. With a claw-hole in it. He looked at Mitchella, his gaze lingering on the tumble of her hair, her face, her lips. " He offered a hand. Reluctantly, Mitchella gave him her own. Instead of shaking it, he lifted it to his mouth. The soft pressure of his warm lips went directly to her center.
Heart Choice (Celta's HeartMates, Book 4) by Robin D. Owens