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Achilles' Charm Cover Art by  Trace Edward Zaber She was the irresistable charm of love that filled his dreams. Her leaving was the poisoned arrow that pierced his heart. For years later, she still wears the anklet he placed around her ankle and he's determined to find out why she left him without a word. And he's not leaving without the truth. Now available from Amber Heat or Fictionwise. Also availabe at Amazon.com Amber Heat, the erotic imprint of Amber Quill Press   Excerpt from Achilles' Charm: She noticed a bowl of strawberries and a bottle and two glasses resting next to it on the coffee table, and the other, smaller gift box was setting there as well. Two crimson candles were in clear crystal holders and he was bent over lighting the second one. "I need your help," she said as she gingerly walked into the room. He whirled around and the look in his eyes flared to one of pure lust. "Help? You look gorgeous." She held up her hand and dangled the pair of shoes in front of him. "I should have put these on first, but now I can't exactly bend over to fasten them." He walked toward her. "More than happy to oblige, ma'am." He led her over to a straight-backed wooden chair and she eased down. Ross knelt on one knee and lifted one of her feet to rest on his thigh. Slowly, he stroked a hand up her stocking-sheathed calf, and back down again. She saw the bulge of his cock pressing against the front of his trousers. She knew he loved touching her this way. Something about this particular intimacy always had the ability to arouse him. His hand moved upward, past her knee, and slid along her inner thigh. She sucked in breath. His fingers played over the exposed skin just above the rim of the stocking tops and she felt her cream dampen her panties at the sensual touch. "Ross." His name was just a breath on her lips. He looked up at her. "Are you wet, Mary?" She nodded her head and he smiled. Picking up one of the shoes, he slipped it on her foot and buckled the ankle strap. He gave the same intimate attention her other leg. Then he leaned back, pressing her knees open with his hands. The look in his silvery eyes, which now looked like dark storm clouds over a vast, black sea, told her how aroused he was. "Touch yourself," he growled. He'd never asked her to do that before. "I-I don't know..." "Touch yourself. I know you've done it when you were alone, you told me so. Let me watch. I want to see you touch yourself. He lifted one of her legs and placed her shod foot on his thigh, close to his groin. His hands absently danced along her leg as he watched her.

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