Dangerous Lover by Anne Stuart, the latest release in the bestselling Ice series, takes readers on a captivating journey through the shadowy world of covert agents and forbidden romance that is synonymous with the series. As an avid fan of Ms. Stuart’s work, especially her knack for creating irresistibly dark and complex heroes, I was in a sense of anticipation as I dove into this novella, and I was not disappointed.

The story begins with 29-year-old Emma O’Bannion dreading the upcoming Valentine’s Day. It is a holiday she finds particularly depressing, amplifying her restlessness and longing for an adventure that might distract her from her inner musings. Emma’s life is seemingly well-planned, with her ambitious goal of making partner at Kelton and Kelton by the time she turns 35. Yet, there’s a spark of impulsiveness within her that ignites when she encounters Luc Dubois, the enigmatic new tenant in her building.

From the moment Emma decides to send Luc an anonymous lover’s card for Valentine’s Day, believing it to be a harmless gesture, the story takes the turn that I was waiting for. Luc, a retired agent of the Committee, a global covert agency with its own hidden agendas, has been living a life of relative quiet in his retirement until a warning makes him up his guard once again. When Emma’s seemingly innocent card coincides with this warning, Luc deliberately puts himself in Emma’s space and world, something which he had been resisting up till that point.

Luc is a man marked by his past, particularly by betrayal five years ago, also on Valentine’s Day. This haunting memory makes Emma’s “anonymous” gift too much of a coincidence for him to walk away from and consider as harmless. When Luc confronts Emma suspicious of her in every sense, what ensues is a tense, captivating dance between them, culminating in the kind of passion and want that Luc has no place for in his life.

Ms. Stuart excels at crafting heroes who are dark, broody, and dangerously irresistible, and Luc Dubois is no exception. His initial coldness and calculated demeanor hides a deep well of passion and vulnerability, which Emma gradually uncovers. Their chemistry is electric and Luc’s protective instincts towards Emma, despite his better judgment, adds a layer of complexity to their relationship that kept me hooked.

While Dangerous Lover is a novella and shorter than a full-length novel, I found myself wishing for more time with Luc and Emma, as it always happens when you are enamored by a story and want it to continue forever. I wanted to delve deeper into their backgrounds and the intricacies of their relationship and encounter the angst that Ms. Stuart so famously delivers in most of her novels.

Ms. Stuart’s ability to write darker romance with a flair that is uniquely hers is why she remains my go-to author for my dark romance fix. I aim to do a re-read of some of my favorite books of hers sometime soon, having done so a year or so back in recent times. Not every romance reader may appreciate the dark themes and morally ambiguous characters that Ms. Stuart excels at creating, but for those who do, her books are a treasure trove of unforgettable stories, some of which remain permanently on my favorites shelf.

Recommended for fans of the Ice series and those who love their heroes a bit darker than most. While part of a series, Dangerous Lover can totally be read as a standalone.

Final Verdict: Dangerous Lover is a thrilling addition to the Ice series, delivering on the suspense, romance, and dark allure that Anne Stuart fans have come to expect and love from her novels in the series!

Favorite Quotes

The last button went, and her silk blouse hung open, exposing her indecent little wisp of a bra. “And what made you choose my apartment building? What made you decide to move in beneath me, and watch me every time you could catch a glimpse of me?”
“I didn’t even know you were there,” she said wearily. “I told you, I didn’t think anyone lived upstairs until a couple of months ago. And it’s not your apartment building, buster, it belongs to the owners and it’s run by Mr. Habib and I have just as much right as you have…”
“It is my building. I own it.”
She could feel the tip of the knife against her bare skin, a strange, painless caress. A shiver of pure fear ran across her skin. She looked up at him, into his opaque, unreadable eyes, and she held her breath.„
And then he slid the knife between the bra and her skin, cutting it open.

He slid one hand through her hair and kissed her on the mouth again, taking his time, no need for hurry, no need for force. He was willing to wait, to see how long it would take her to respond.
Her mouth opened beneath his slow, deliberate kisses, reaching for breath, reaching for words, reaching for his mouth, letting him, asking him, her lips clinging for a shy second and then falling back, then kissing him again, and this time when he used his tongue it truly was like sex, entering her, pushing inside the dark wetness of her mouth, and she let him, taking him, a hot damp clinging of mouth to mouth.

“Don’t think about it,” he whispered against her mouth. “Don’t think about anything. Just feel.”
She wanted to cry. She lost herself in the taste of him, the sweet texture of his mouth and his tongue, the silken heat of his skin beneath her trembling hands. He hadn’t touched her breasts, yet they felt exquisitely sensitive, almost burning.
He was rocking her against him, a slow, lascivious rhythm, her wispy silk panties against the buttoned fly on his jeans, and the sensation was a powerful one, making her breath catch in her throat. His eyes were half closed, watching her, and she was shy, edgy, her fingers digging into his smooth shoulders, as her stomach knotted and a jolt of something streaked through her body in anticipation.

She didn’t know why she was so wet, and she didn’t care. He was holding her too tightly for her to pull away, her face was pressed close against his shoulder, and she could feel the thunder of his heart, could feel the tension thrumming through his muscles, and she wanted to lick his skin, she wanted his mouth, she wanted everything, she no longer cared what he wanted to do with her. Nothing mattered but the wet, delicious waves of sensation he was coaxing from her, an almost lazy cycle of response that began to build, sharply, until without warning it exploded, and she screamed against his chest and her body arched off the bed in a spasm of hot, prickling response.

“Open your eyes, Emma,” he whispered in a harsh voice, and there was no ignoring him.
Her eyelids fluttered open, and she stared up at him in dazed confusion. He cupped her buttocks, pulling her up closer against him, but she simply wrapped her legs around him, tight, drawing him in deeper still.
His faint smile was answer enough. “You like it?”
“I like it,” she whispered.
“You want more?”
“Yes, please.”

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