Especially when the player is the sinfully handsome, foul-mouthed Holden Sanders… my new library assistant.
The benched bad boy needed an image makeover, I needed to save my job, and his star status was just what the library ordered to raise awareness for our fundraising campaign. The press can’t get enough of Mr. Growly reading to kids.
It’s win-win and completely platonic.
Until I need a shoulder to cry on after drowning my heartbreak in too many margaritas. I only typed that invitation to his brawny biceps and perfect pectorals for fun–I never meant to hit send. Holden isn’t the kind of guy to care about tears and feelings, least of all mine. He’s made it clear good girls aren’t his type.
But he shows up–with his strapping shoulder, a box of tissues and a supersized bag of Doritos.
That’s when I realize there’s more to him than meets the eye.
One soulful, smoldering mistake of a kiss has me craving more, and the heat between us quickly builds to a blaze neither of us can control.
But I’m not the only one guarding secrets, and Holden’s might push us to the breaking point.
Even if I’m surrounded by books, I know better than to believe in storybook endings.
And yet, I want to believe… Because I know he’s a keeper.
“Mare, I had no idea what I was in for when you stormed out of the library that day, looking to kill me for skirting my parental responsibilities.”
She squints, then her expression turns wry. “I’d never kill a person.” She tilts her head from side to side, considering. “Well, unless you burned a book.”
Nodding, I kiss her softly. “I respect that. And I want you to know you can trust me. I know people have left you behind in your past, but I hope you believe me when I tell you I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for you.” As I say the words, I believe they’re true. If I move to England, I hope she loves me enough to come with me. Even if she hasn’t said the words.
I don’t know what I’m expecting. Maybe relief or acknowledgment that she’s not going anywhere either. I want to believe she feels the same way.
I don’t expect her forehead to crease and her eyes to glisten with tears, which swell until they can no longer be contained and roll down her cheeks before she buries her face in my shoulder.
Turning us to the side, I wrap her in my arms, as the flow of tears turns to quiet sobs. I smooth her hair and give her the outlet she needs, even though I feel guilty for making her cry.
With a sniff, she leans her head away and meets my gaze. Her wet eyes glisten above pink cheeks. I wipe a remaining tear away with the pad of my thumb and rub her back gently.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“You didn’t,” she whispers, wiping her eyes. A moment later she laughs at the lie. “It was stuck inside me. You just let it out.” She exhales, tucking the emotions away.
“You okay?” I want to tread carefully until I know where she is in her head.
Nodding, she reaches for my cheek and cups the side of my face. “Thank you for saying that. I’d never ask that of you, but thank you. I love you. So much.”
I’ve been waiting to hear those words. For a moment, I’m convinced that everything between us can stay this easy. We’re both cautious, but we can cross each new line together. It feels powerful to be able to do that with her.
“I know you’d never ask. That’s why I said it. I wanted you to know.”
“I’m not going anywhere either.”
I’m struck by a foreign but welcome feeling, a realization that I can’t go backward now. I can’t be okay without her in my world. I need to tell her about the Premier League, but it can wait another day. She likes to live in the present.
She loves me.
Everything between us is still so fragile and new and good. I don’t want anything to change us.
One more day won’t hurt.
*****
Review:
Either Molly works some magic on him or Holden isn’t as much of a grump as he pretends to be, because he’s pretty awesome, in a gruff and foul-mouthed kinda way. He wooed me just as much as he wooed her, every step of the way. And, though I’m surprised that Molly hadn’t found a way to address her problems up to this point, I’m happy that it brought these two together.
He’s a Keeper is definitely that – the characters are fun, their interactions are adorable (and hot), and it’s an easy read to a feel good ending. And while you can see the drama coming a mile away, I appreciate the way that Travis has them evaluate their feelings and come back together. It’s a satisfying HEA to a satisfying story and I’m definitely looking forward to what is coming up next with this series.
*****
Author Info:
It’s a rough world out there, and we all sometimes need a good, romantic beach read, even if we can’t make it to the beach. I’ve spent many lazy days walking the streets of Paris and other gorgeous European cities, and if I’m doing it right, I’m bringing you a dash of romance and a vacay fantasy.
I can’t sit still, so when I’m not hiking, biking or running, I’m playing a very average game of tennis. Background music for writing undoubtedly features some U2, Lizzo, Billy Joel, Pink, Taylor Swift, and Led Zeppelin. Not necessarily in that order. And if I could only eat one food group, it would be cheese. Or wine. Or bread. Are those food groups? Whatever.
In this delightful new Regency romance from New York Times bestseller Candace Camp, a feisty commoner and a ruthless aristocrat spar in all the right ways.
Noelle Rutherford would do anything for her young son, Gil. A fiercely independent woman recently widowed, Noelle is determined to raise Gil alone. After all, her late husband Adam Rutherford married her for love, which infuriated his aristocratic family. Gil is Noelle’s whole world, and she will not have him wrested from her by haughty nobles.
But she may not have a choice unless she’s prepared to run.
One awful night, Noelle is confronted by Carlisle Thorne, a handsome yet severe, irascible man sent by the Rutherfords. Noelle is horrified when Carlisle offers her money in exchange for taking Gil to be raised at the Rutherford estate, Stonecliffe. Knowing that Carlisle will use any means necessary to take her son from her, Noelle flees, Gil at her side.
Thus begins an epic rivalry that spans five years—a battle of wits between two unforgettable characters bound together by fate and fortune. However, when danger threatens, these enemies must come together to protect what matters most… even if it means losing their hearts.
Noelle gazed down at the sleeping baby. How were they to live?
At first she had been too numb to think, moving through the past few days in a dazed state, unable to believe that this was real. Adam was too young, too full of life to die. Why had he been so reckless? And why, dear God, why had she argued with him that night?
She shivered. Their home was still and silent, empty of his laughter, his words, even his scowls or curses when his work went badly. Noelle wished she could return to her earlier befogged state. But this morning, as she had stood at his graveside, the Paris sky fittingly gray and drizzling, her heart had accepted what her mind refused to the past three days. Never again would she see her husband’s smile or feel the touch of his lips on hers.
But she could not allow herself to sink into a morass of grief. She had a baby to care for. As she watched her child sleep, a fierce surge of protectiveness rose in her. She must face the harsh truths, the bitter reality, for Gil’s sake. There was no one to solve her problems—or even to give her advice.
Adam’s artist friends? His models? They were all as penniless as she was. Her father was far away in Oxford, and in any case, he was an impoverished academic who could barely manage to support himself. Even less likely to help was Adam’s aristocratic father, who had been so opposed to Adam marrying “beneath him” that he cut his son out of his life.
Noelle glanced around their flat, forcing herself to take stock of her situation. There was no money here. Noelle had used the pittance she had stashed away just to pay for Adam’s burial and the small headstone—and oh, how it hurt that a man of his artistry should have so little to mark his passing! The butcher refused to sell anything to her until she paid their bill. The wine merchant was already dunning them—that was what set off her argument with Adam and sent him storming out into the night. The flat itself was paid only through the end of the next week, and their landlord was a hard man who would not care that he was tossing a widow and a fatherless baby into the street.
It was enough to make her dissolve into sobs, but Noelle had cried so much the last few days that she was utterly drained of tears, and in any case, it would do no good. Crying never solved anything. She must think of what to do. Madame Bissonet would take her back at the millinery where Noelle had worked before Gil was born. Noelle had been a good clerk as well as an excellent model for Madame’s hats, not to mention the added benefit of being able to converse with English customers.
But how was she to work there—or anywhere—with a small baby? She could hardly carry an infant about the showroom with her or take time from making bonnets to feed and tend to him. Even if she could find a way to do so, the money she could earn would be very little. They had always lived on the stipend Adam’s family sent him despite his estrangement from them. Noelle’s salary had merely helped make ends meet when Adam’s extravagant spending sent them into dun territory. It wouldn’t be enough to live on. And she had no hope that the Rutherfords would continue to provide Adam’s much-disliked widow any aid after his death.
She could sell Adam’s work. She looked across the room to where his easel stood by the window. Finished paintings crowded all around it—the fruit of his genius, the rich glimpses into his soul—some dark and stormy, others visions of stunning beauty, and all of them compelling. It made her heart ache to think of letting them go, but she would have to try to sell at least some of them. That would bring in enough to live for a while, but he had been able to sell too few of them in the past for her to think she would be able to reap any great sums. They were worth far more to her than they ever would be to someone else.
Noelle turned away, going to the alcove that served as their bedroom, and began to take off the black dress she had worn to Adam’s funeral. Adam would have hated that; he had always said she was suited only for color. She had but one black dress. It was old and uncomfortably tight across her breasts, so full now since the baby was born. Tossing it onto the bed, she pulled on the bright silk wrapper Adam had bought her. It was far too extravagant, as were so many of the things that he bought, but it was soft and comfortably loose, and it made her feel closer to Adam.
Taking an ornate box from the dresser, she sat down on the bed and opened it. The jewelry Adam had bought her was the most valuable asset she possessed. She began to pull out the pieces, laying them out on the bed beside her. The diamond earrings Adam had given her when Gil was born. Gold bangles. An enameled brooch. A jeweled hairpin that looked like a dragonfly. Pendants, earrings. That foolish narrow ruby-and-diamond tiara that Noelle would never attend anything formal enough to wear.
Indeed, she would never wear most of them. She had protested time and again that Adam spent too much on jewels and clothes for her; it would have been far more useful for him to pay the rent. But Adam was the son of an earl, and he’d never completely adjusted to his new financial circumstances. He would complain about his lack of funds and call the monthly payment he received from England “blood money.” He would make periodic vows to follow a budget. But then he would see something he wanted, and he would buy it on the spot, without regard to the price.
That first bracelet he’d given her, she had promptly handed back to him, saying heatedly that she was not the sort of girl to accept such a present from a man. She smiled to herself, stroking her finger over the delicate chain of sapphire flowers. Adam had kept it and presented it to her again after they married, smiling in that irresistible, mischievous way of his and saying he believed she could accept it now.
Noelle swallowed the lump in her throat and fastened the bracelet on her wrist, holding her arm out to admire it. She pulled out the matching necklace that he’d given her on their first anniversary. Going to the mirror, she fastened it around her neck. She smoothed her finger over the delicate stones, remembering the way he looked as he gave it to her. Tears welled in her eyes.
A thunderous knock sounded at the door, breaking into her reverie. Whirling, she ran for the door in the futile hope she might keep the visitor from waking the baby. But, naturally, Gil began to howl, his tiny face screwing up and turning red. In exasperation, she flung the door open.
A tall, lean man stood outside her door, his strong-boned face set in a stony expression and his eyes the cold gray of a winter storm. His brown hair had no silver to it, but his fierceness gave him an authority that his age, and even his obvious peerage, didn’t.
Noelle took an instinctive step back. The man’s eyes flicked down her and beyond to the cradle. “I believe your child is crying.”
“Not until you started banging on the door.” Her temper flashed at his tone. Turning, Noelle scooped Gil up and held him against her chest, murmuring soothing noises. When she pivoted back to the door, she saw that the man had walked into the room uninvited and closed the door behind him. He stood there silently, his coolly assessing gaze roaming over the small living quarters.
His eyes fell on the unmade bed, the contents of the jewelry box spread across it, and his lips lifted in a sneer. “Sorry to disturb you. I can see that you are deep in…um, sorrow.”
His tone gave a sarcastic twist to the words that made them sting and brought a flush of embarrassment to Noelle’s cheeks even as they angered her. “Who are you? What do you want?”
Suspicion of the man’s identity was already tickling at the back of her mind. English, aristocratic, contemptuous…and surely she had seen a charcoal drawing of this man among Adam’s sketches.
“I am Carlisle Thorne. I am a friend of the Rutherford family.”
“I see.” Adam had spoken of him several times. Though not related to Adam by blood, Thorne had been the earl’s ward. He had lived with Adam’s family for some time and had been something of an older brother to him. When Adam first mentioned him, it had been with affection, but after their marriage, his references to the man had turned bitter. Adam had believed Thorne would intercede with his father, but instead he had, like the earl, opposed the marriage.
Noelle remembered well the letter Adam had received from Carlisle Thorne. He’d torn it up and flung it on the ground, but Noelle had pieced it together and read it: It is entirely understandable, even expected, that you should dally with the lasses while you are at university, but it is out of the question for a man of your heritage to marry one of these common girls.
It had only exposed the man’s arrogance and narrow mind, but the words had made Noelle feel ashamed. Even now, she could remember the pang of hurt, assuaged only partially by Adam’s fierce denouncement of Thorne.
It was not surprising that this icy man was the author of that missive. She felt sure his opinion of her had not changed. Certainly, she had no liking for him. But still, she could not help but feel a quiver of hope. Thorne had been something of an emissary between Adam’s father and his renounced son in the past; the earl had sent Adam his monthly stipend through Thorne. If the earl had sent Thorne himself to pay a visit, surely that meant he would help his son’s widow and child, no matter what he thought of Noelle herself.
Thorne’s gaze went to the bundle in Noelle’s arms. Gil had once again fallen asleep against her chest. Thorne shifted awkwardly, tilting his head to look at the baby’s face. “Is this…”
“Yes. This is Gil. Adam’s son.”
He gave a short nod and turned away. For a moment Noelle thought he was about to simply walk out the door, but then he swiveled back to face her. “I am here to return Adam to his family.”
“Return him to his family! They would not accept Adam when he was alive, but now that my husband has died, they want his body?” Noelle flared. “It’s a trifle late, isn’t it?”
His eyes darkened and for the first time it was fire, not ice, that flared from them. “I am well aware that I did not arrive in time to save Adam from the disastrous consequences of his marriage to you.”
Noelle drew in a sharp breath, shocked. “Are you implying that I harmed Adam?”
“I am implying nothing. I am saying plainly what we both know—if he had not run off with you, Adam would be alive today.” His words pierced her, and Noelle could say nothing as he continued, “I will regret to my dying day that I did not keep him out of your clutches. But I am not too late to save his son.”
Tears sprang into her eyes, and Noelle turned away to hide them from him. She laid Gil back in his little bed, buying herself time to force down the pain and anger that threatened to swamp her. She hated this arrogant man. But she had to think of her son. She must take care of him, and Carlisle Thorne was the only person who might do that. If he was offering to provide support for Adam’s baby, then she must accept it, no matter how humiliating, no matter how much it galled her.
Not looking at him, carefully keeping her voice drained of emotion, she said, “And how do you propose to do that?”
“Ah. Yes. Now we are at the heart of the matter, aren’t we? No need for any pretense; you are ready to bargain. What is your price?”
“My price?” She turned to face him, confused. Was she supposed to figure out how much it would cost to raise her child? And what an odd way to put it. “I—I’m not sure—”
“You must have a number in mind. What will you take to give me Adam’s son?”
Noelle stared at him, stunned. “You want to buy my baby?”
“If you want to call it that.” He frowned. “Did you expect me to hand over a pile of banknotes and leave him here with you? To let the earl’s grandson be raised in…” he gestured vaguely around the apartment “…in this? In the sort of life you will lead? No. I can assure you I will not. The earl is his legal guardian, as you must know. The child will be earl one day, and he shall be raised at Stonecliffe, just as Adam was, in the care of his grandmother and grandfather. You will take the money and be on your way. A thousand pounds.”
“No,” Noelle said weakly. She was too shocked to put her thoughts into order. He could not really expect her to sell him her child.
His mouth tightened. “Two thousand, then. You’ll have money, your jewelry, your clothes, and you won’t have the burden of a child. Even a woman of your face and form would find it difficult to attract a protector with a baby in tow. Here.” He reached inside his jacket to pull out a small pouch. “I haven’t that much in coin with me. I will have to visit the bank. But here is a deposit on that.” He tossed the pouch down on the table. “I’ll return tomorrow for the boy.”
Candace Camp is a New York Times bestselling author of over sixty novels of contemporary and historical romance. She grew up in Texas in a newspaper family, which explains her love of writing, but she earned a law degree and practiced law before making the decision to write full-time. She has received several writing awards, including the RT Book Reviews Lifetime Achievement Award for Western Romances. Visit her at http://www.candace-camp.com.
Rowe brings a story that balances suspense, danger, and emotion. WIth Caleb not being able to remember anything about his life before he wakes up hurt and surrounded by rubble, he’s running on pure instinct. It also allows him the opportunity to embrace the man he is at heart and not just who time and circumstance has turned him into. WIth the help of Jenna and her spunky daughter Gracie, Caleb has to work fast to figure out who he is and why someone wants him dead.
Overall I enjoyed this book (although there may be a bit too much of instalove for some), and it can definitely be read on its own, but I think that it would have even more of an impact for someone who has read the series. It seems that each of the Stockton’s has had to fight to let go of their childhood and find their way back again. With Caleb being the last to return, there is probably a lot more feels for someone who has been there every story. I’m not saying not to give it a shot, but maybe start at the beginning – if the rest of the books are anything like this one, you should be set on reading materials for a while 🙂
*****
Author Info:
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Stephanie Rowe is both “contemporary romance at its best” (Bex ‘N’ Books) and a “paranormal star” (JR Ward). The author of more than fifty novels, Stephanie is a 2021 Vivian Award Nominee, and a 2018 winner and a five-time nominee for the RITA® award, the highest awards in romance fiction. As an award-winning author, Stephanie has been touching readers’ hearts and keeping them spellbound for more than a decade with her contemporary romances, romantic suspense, and paranormal romances. For more info on Stephanie, visit http://www.stephanierowe.com, follow her on Facebook: @StephanieRoweBooks, Twitter: @stephanierowe2, and Instagram: @stephanierowe2.
My new boss is my best friend’s older brother and the golden boy of Paradise Shores.
Me? I’m the misfit single mom who never wanted to fit in…
Being forced to move back to my hometown after a decade away is embarrassing, but I’ll do anything to protect my little girl.
I’ll even wait tables at the elite Yacht Club… now owned by the boy I once had a huge crush on. He’s grown up and claimed his rightful place as King of Paradise Shores.
Parker Marchand was a star athlete and professional sailor who never looked at me twice. He’s strong and steady, everything my abusive ex wasn’t, but I’m a struggling single mom and professional screw-up. What could we possibly have in common?
But Parker doesn’t believe in no win situations. He wants to be my knight in shining armor.
His plan: Charm my daughter. Take me sailing. Out to dinner…and into his bed.
Make me forget everyone but him.
The man I’ve always wanted is within reach, but I’ve been burned too many times to trust again. Parker has a brilliant future and I’m running from my past.
Everyone knows knights in shining armor aren’t real, and I’m too old to believe in fairy tales. Even if Parker is making it hard not to…
Grab your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
He smiles, slow and wide, and lowers his head. “No,” he says, and then he kisses me. It’s salty and warm and water drips from his hair onto my temple, cold against my flushed skin.
My eyes are still closed when he pulls away. “There,” he murmurs. “Not too little, not too much. We did it right this time.”
“Don’t Goldilocks this, Marchand.”
He chuckles hoarsely and then doesn’t make another sound, not as I reach up on my tiptoes and kiss him again. It’s intoxicating being this close to him.
And just like last time, he becomes a stranger under my lips. Familiar and yet novel, an entirely new landscape to explore. Parker and yet not Parker.
“Jamie,” he murmurs, his hands finding my waist beneath the towel.
My hands settle against his chest. His bare chest. He’s warm and hard under my hands, skin deceptively soft over the strong muscle beneath.
“Jamie,” he murmurs again, moving his lips to my ear. He laughs softly. “We’re in the middle of the boardwalk.”
“Oh,” I whisper against his chest.
“I don’t mind, but I have a feeling you might. You know how this town talks.”
“Yes.” I turn my head and peek past his shoulder. An SUV drives by us on Ocean Drive. “What do we do?”
He rubs a large hand up and down my arms, as if to warm me. It sends a shiver down my back. “We’ll go home,” he says, “and start our days, and do this again. When we’re alone.”
“I like that plan,” I say. My voice doesn’t sound like my own.
He smiles, small and crooked. “Come on, James. You’re getting cold, and I’m in danger of overheating.”
*****
Review:
Parker really is the golden boy – patient, kind, and understanding right from the start. If you are looking for any growth from him, you aren’t going to get it, but there’s plenty on Jamie’s side to go around 🙂 And I find it interesting that there are a number of reviews that didn’t like the book because of Jamie’s recovery from the abuse she’d received at the hands of her ex. I don’t know if they only want strong heroines … or those that quickly get over their troubles … or … I’m not sure. It’s not easy for her to get her confidence back. She feels like a failure for letting it go so long and still bears some of the emotional scars from his words. It’s hard for her to come home and face people she knows, people that seem to have everything together. With Parker’s help she starts to let go of some of her past, to realize she’s tougher than she thinks she is, and that she can start over with her daughter. It’s not easy for her and it does take some time, but she gets there.
Small Town Hero is a slow build but satisfying read about second chances and finding yourself again.
*****
Author Info:
Olivia is a twenty-something hopeless romantic who loves billionaires heroes despite never having met one. Taking matters into her own hands, she creates them on the page instead. Stern, charming, cold or brooding, so far she’s never met a (fictional) billionaire she didn’t like.
A voracious reader of romance, Olivia picked up the pen a few years back and what followed was a love affair of her own. Now she spends her days grinning at the steamy banter she’s writing or swooning at happily-ever-afters. Or, to be frank, struggling with writing about herself in third person for the purposes of marketing.
She’s been writing contemporary romance novels since 2018.
They’re all exclusively available on Amazon and enrolled in Kindle Unlimited.
(Phew. Now I can go back to first-person love stories!)
A wedding planner, who has resigned herself to spinsterhood, organizes other people’s happy endings in this romantic new women’s fiction from New York Times bestselling author Lori Foster.
A light, romantic family saga centered around Yardley Belanger’s country wedding planning business and her eccentric family, and set in a quirky small town with the unusual name of Cemetery, Indiana. (Sure, people have tried, but Betty Cemetery, who is descended from the town founders, will let the name be changed…over her dead body.)
At 31, Yardley Belanger is really good at her job as a wedding planner—organizing other people’s happy ever afters. Yardley doesn’t care that she has zero love life…all the eligible guys in Cemetery are men she grew up with, and none of them interest her anyway. She’s put her heart and soul into her business and has built a reputation specializing in country weddings—complete with a cottage by the lake for honeymooners—attracting happy couples and their families from all around.
Travis Long had to take on too much responsibility too soon. When their parents died, he took care of his younger sister, Sheena. For years, it was just them against the world. But now his baby sister is getting married, and Travis is struggling to accept this change. He thinks Todd isn’t good enough for Sheena, and without meaning to, Travis is noticebly judgmental of his sister’s intended.
Travis and Sheena are in town to plan her country wedding. Travis wanted something classier for his sister, but then he meets Yardley. He notices she puts her heart and soul into everything, and that she really listens to what the bride wants. Yardley has this no-nonsense way of interpreting what his sister says and doesn’t say.
How the hell is he falling in love during wedding prep for his little sister? Easy. He never expected to meet someone like Yardley Belanger.
“Mother, didn’t you plan to go out?” It was nearing noon, and Aurora Belanger had yet to leave. Lilith, her mother’s sister, also lingered in the foyer right outside her office. It was as if they knew she had an appointment and they wanted to oversee the process. It was a fact that no matter how she succeeded, they expected her to fail, or sometimes they just disapproved of how she succeeded.
“Why the rush?” Aurora asked as she adjusted the V-neck of her sleeveless blouse to show more cleavage.
Granted, for an almost-fifty-year-old woman, her mother still had it. The problem was that she knew it, and she focused on looking sexy more than she did on making the business work. Yardley forced her mouth into a smile. “I thought you had some local honeymoon locations to scope out today.”
“I don’t scope out locations. And stop slouching.”
Automatically, Yardley straightened, but damn it, she hadn’t been slouching anyway. “So, what would you call it?”
“I visit, investigate, and collect valuable information that will enhance our clients’ experiences.” She shot Yardley a superior look. “It’s a key part of the business, you know. Certainly, the locations I suggest are more appropriate than that rustic Honeymoon Cottage you always recommend.”
“The cottage is amazing and you know it.”
Aurora sniffed. “Most people are more interested in their honeymoon than the actual wedding.”
Meaning her mother’s contributions were more valuable than Yardley’s efforts? Baloney. She knew one thing though: Aurora’s choices were certainly more expensive. Folding her arms, Yardley said, “Huh. I guess a lot of happy clients didn’t realize that, because more than half choose the cottage, so—”
“Because it’s so disgustingly cheap,” Aurora insisted.
“Affordable,” Yardley countered, but why she bothered, she didn’t know. They’d disagreed on the point too many times to count.
“I need to leave soon for the café,” Aunt Lilith interrupted. She was four years Aurora’s senior, and though they shared similar features, she was more concerned with flaunting her intellect than her sex appeal. At least the niche, tea-parlor-type café Lilith owned turned a small profit, even though they’d transitioned from meeting prospective clients there to having them at the home office instead.
Lilith focused on Yardley with nerve-rattling acuity. “Whatever are you up to, Yardley? Do you have an appointment, hmm?”
“Yes, I do, and I need to prep for it. So… I’ll see you both later.” She took a step back. Then another. Neither of them budged. Damn.
Lilith gave her a longer look. “Don’t you have something more appropriate to wear?”
Looking down at her summer dress, Yardley frowned in consternation. It was one of her favorites. She adored the way the soft, flowing material gently draped her body. The skirt ended mid-calf, and it had just enough adornment to make it professional while still being comfortable. Plus Mimi had told her that the pretty blue floral pattern matched her eyes. “I love this dress.”
“It doesn’t scream professionalism,” said her aunt.
“I’m not sure I want my clothes to scream.”
Ignoring that, her aunt said, “Yellow would be better for you, to offset your dark hair. Perhaps a business suit.”
A yellow business suit? She’d look like a block of butter.
“Nonsense,” said her mother. “Just the opposite is true. It wouldn’t kill you to wear something a little less matronly.”
“My dress isn’t matronly.” Was it? No, no, it was comfortable, damn it.
“You have breasts. Even though they’re small, you should showcase them.”
Yardley started to sweat. “Look, both of you—”
Aunt Lilith cut in. “Only you, Aurora, would think she needed to be sexy to sell a wedding. If you’d furthered your education, as I did, instead of getting pregnant so young—”
“That wasn’t my fault,” Aurora gasped in affront—as she always did when this debate got started.
“Well, it certainly wasn’t mine.” Lilith scoffed. “I didn’t have unprotected sex.”
“Likely because you, dear sister, have never experienced real passion.”
Lilith’s face went red. “No one said passion must equal an unwanted baby—no offense, Yardley.”
Yardley obligingly replied, “None taken.” This whole argument was so old, she knew the lines by heart. There was always some variant of the same thing. Over and over again.
It infuriated Mimi. If her friend was here now, she’d be blasting them both.
“I did the responsible thing,” Aurora specified with flair. “I raised my daughter. You’d probably have given her up.”
“How dare you?” Lilith pointed one manicured finger Yardley’s way. “I love Yardley.”
“Now you do. But while I was carrying her?”
“I was attempting to be the reasonable one.”
“You didn’t want her around, but now you try to claim her as your own.”
“At least I don’t advise her to show off her breasts!”
Yardley lifted her phone to look at the time…and then she heard two things. A man clearing his throat, and a young woman giggling.
OMG. Awash with humiliation, she turned to face her clients…and holy crapola. Pretty sure her ovaries just danced.
Travis Long was a feast for the peepers. She knew because her eyes were gobbling him up from head to toe.
He wasn’t the intended, thank God, just the brother. Is he married?
Good Lord, why did she care? But she answered herself real quick as she took him in feature by feature. Sandy-blond hair, steaked by the sun.
Dark brown eyes, fringed by ridiculous—like, really ridiculous—long, thick lashes.
Broad muscled shoulders.
Lean torso.
Long, strong legs.
Of course he had to be married. He’d probably had a dozen proposals by now. Some lucky woman would have snatched him up already.
Unless… Remembering her initial phone conversation, she thought maybe he was too aloof. Too unfriendly. A discerning woman wouldn’t be reeled in by mere good looks. Somehow she didn’t feel all that discerning right now.
Whatever this man does for a living, it works in his favor.
The young woman laughed aloud this time. “Don’t worry, Ms. Belanger. He has that effect on everyone.” She nodded at Aurora and Lilith, and Yardley realized they were both gawking, too.
Appalled, Yardley loudly cleared her throat—and accomplished nothing. Her mother and aunt continued to stare.
“I’ve told him he could have made more money as a model,” the young woman said, “but no, my brother went into construction instead.”
Attempting to ignore the heat in her face, Yardley stepped forward, hand extended—toward the woman. Who would be her client. She was the one who mattered. “Hello. You must be Ms. Long.”
“Soon to be Mrs. Borden, with your help.”
“Oh, I do hope so. That I get to help, I mean. Not that you become Mrs. Borden. I’m sure that’s a foregone conclusion or you wouldn’t be here.” Shut up, Yardley. “Please, just call me Yardley.”
“If you’ll call me Sheena.”
Beside her, Travis shifted but said nothing. Compared to him, his sister looked extra petite. Her hair, lighter blond than Travis’s, hung just past her shoulders. They shared the same striking dark eyes and sinful lashes.
Sheena appeared to be just out of her teens. Maybe twenty or twenty-one. Young, excited, and brimming with optimism. Total opposite of her silent, possibly brooding, brother.
What could she say with her aunt and mother still eyeballing him as if they’d never seen such a fine specimen before? Honestly, in Cemetery, they probably hadn’t. “I’m thrilled for the opportunity to help plan your wedding.” Reluctantly, because she wasn’t yet prepared to gaze on him again, Yardley turned to Travis. It took her a second to get her lungs to work, and then she gasped, “I take it you’re Travis Long, the Victorian home enthusiast?”
“I am.” He briefly clasped her hand.
Very perfunctory. Not at all personal. Purely business.
But he had magic hands or something because she felt that touch radiate everywhere. With her tingling palm, she lamely gestured to the gawking duo. “My mother, Aurora Belanger, and my aunt, Lilith Belanger.”
Sheena greeted them with a little less warmth than she’d shown Yardley.
Travis merely gave them a nod, then said to Yardley, “I’m relieved to see you’ve kept the house true to the period.”
Oh goody, a safe subject, and one she was comfortable with. She could talk about the house and stare at him. “I’ve tried. Remodeling it has been a pleasure, but a slow process.” She wrinkled her nose. “Matching all that trim, finding the right valance windows, the iron railings—”
“And the slate roof. That impressed me.”
Oh, hey. She’d impressed him. Score one for her. “Most recently the kitchen got a facelift. I hope I did it justice.”
Sheena glanced around. “It’s beautiful. Can we do a tour of it later? I know it’d make this whole trip worthwhile for Travis.”
She shot a warning look at her mother and aunt. “Absolutely. I’ll show you everything.” What? “I mean, every part of the house. All the rooms. And stuff.” If only her mouth had a spigot she could turn off. “Even the upstairs rooms have been remodeled.” Had her mother and aunt left when they were supposed to, she’d have tidied their rooms for them. Now she couldn’t, meaning they were probably messy disasters.
Oh, how sweet it was to have a little payback against them. They were fanatics when it came to designing their rooms, but not so big on keeping them decluttered. Yardley knew exactly how they’d react—and they didn’t disappoint her.
“Excuse me,” Lilith said, exiting in a dignified, unhurried stride…until she was out of sight. Then they all heard the rushed clomping of her short heels on wood treads as she raced up the stairs.
Aurora managed a wan smile. “Yes, I should go as well. Good luck, dear. Oh, not that my daughter needs luck, of course. She’s quite the talented wedding planner. Very popular here and in the neighboring towns. Why, her vintage weddings are heavily trending, or so she tells me. Personally, I prefer something a little more chic, which of course she offers.”
“Mother,” Yardley said, feeling her cheeks burn. “You don’t want to be late.”
“Oh, no. No, I don’t.” Aurora barely lowered her voice when she said in an aside, “Don’t slouch.” Then she turned and sashayed away, making a little less noise on the stairs than Lilith had. Unfortunately, they could hear them rushing around in their rooms, probably tucking away bras and shoes, clearing clutter from their desks, and hopefully tidying their beds.
It was the one thing she had in common with them: they each loved to show off the house. Since Aurora and Lilith had personally helped with the decor choices for their rooms, they were especially proud of them and loved to show them off.
Yardley pinned on her most professional smile. “We finished the upstairs as a divided living area, so both my aunt and my mother have their own private suites with bedrooms, bathrooms, and seating areas. My mother chose the side with the balcony, and Aunt Lilith has that romantic turret.”
“You live here, too?” Sheena asked.
“Yes, my bedroom is off to the right of the foyer, and the kitchen is to the left.” She gestured down the hall. “Only the dining room is used as my office. If you’d like to come this way, we can all get comfortable while you share your wedding ideas. Once I have a grasp of what you’re thinking, I can show you my portfolio and we can go over the budget.”
Lori Foster is a New York Times, USA Today, and Publishers Weekly bestselling author with over 10 million books sold. She received the Career Achievement Award from RT Book Reviews and her books have been chosen as editors picks by Amazon multiple times. Foster is actively involved in charity work, and all of the author proceeds from her anthologies have gone to various organizations, such as the Animal Adoption Foundation, the Conductive Learning Center, and One Way Farm. She lives in Ohio with her high school sweetheart.
Enemies to friends to almost lovers … then back to kind-of enemies … to lovers. For a guy who wanted to keep things simple this is anything but.
Fiona knew Knox would be mad when she moved in next door.
And not because she brought a collection of wild animals with her.
And she was right.
So she intended to leave him alone. Mostly.
But he’s not ignoring her. He’s actively working to send her and her “ridiculous menagerie” (rude) right back out of town.
Still, as hard as she tries, it’s impossible to stop thinking about the small town grump’s long hair and tattoos and that mouth.
Not the one that’s almost always set in a grim line and says things like, “you got a permit for that?”
Nope, the one that kisses her like she’s everything he’s ever wanted and says very dirty things in her ear. And sweet, protective, supportive things. Sometimes. Accidentally. When she catches him off-guard.
The one that also says he only wants a long-distance fling with her. Nothing serious. And that he never dates women he sees every day. Like his neighbor.
Well, fine. If he doesn’t want her—and her unbelievable past and that-can’t-be-real future—then she doesn’t want him either. He can just kiss her…giraffe. (Yeah, she actually has a couple of those.)
Now she just needs to convince her heart to give him up.
“Remember that thing we talked about at Christmas?”
Knox felt his gut clench. They’d talked about sleeping together. And him becoming the temporary foster dad to three baby otters.
And they’d kissed for the first time. A kiss that had been causing annoying, unwelcome, frustrating dirty dreams for three fucking months.
“About having a salacious affair where we sneak around behind our friends’ backs and sleep together whenever I’m in town?” she pressed when he didn’t answer.
“Yes. I remember.”
Too well. He was incredibly pissed about how often he’d replayed that conversation and how restless he’d been waiting for her to call or come back to Autre.
He didn’t pine for women. Ever. He did the opposite of that.
But now she was here. And Knox wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Her showing up unannounced wasn’t unusual. Fiona Grady rolled into Autre without warning more often than not in her grape-soda-purple truck that sent his heart hammering and cock hardening.
But it had been three months since he’d seen her. Since they’d talked. Since he’d had any clue what she was doing, where she was, how she was.
Suddenly, she was on his doorstep asking about their plan to bang whenever she was in town for a couple of days?
“Okay, well, there’s something I need to tell you that will make you not want to do that anymore,” she said. “So I was wondering if maybe you wanted to get naked together once before I told you and ruined everything?”
He opened his mouth to reply. Then shut it without a word. What the hell?
He glanced over his shoulder. Three minutes ago, he’d been sitting at his kitchen table doing paperwork with a cup of coffee and listening to a podcast about new creative urban development ideas.
Now the woman he was low-level obsessed with was on his porch asking if he wanted to have sex before she told him something that would make him not want to have sex with her anymore.
He ran a hand through his hair. This was why Fiona Grady was no good for him. She came into his carefully controlled and organized life and made things chaotic and messy.
“Are you sick?” he asked.
“Sick? No.”
“Dying?”
“No.”
“Is anyone dying?”
“No.”
“Are you married?” He braced himself. He knew very little about this woman, actually, and if she belonged to someone else, he’d… leave her alone. And hate that man. And never forgive her for stirring him up like this.
“Absolutely not.”
“Engaged?”
“No.”
Okay, that was all…way too much of a relief. He should not be this happy to hear that.
“Did you kill someone?” he asked.
She tipped her head, her mouth curling. “Is that a definite deal-breaker?”
No, probably not. Knox narrowed his eyes.
“No, I haven’t killed anyone.”
“Are the Feds looking for you? Or will I be implicated in some kind of crime if I let you in?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“That’s not a no.”
“I’m just being honest.”
Fair enough. Fiona was a wild animal advocate. The type of person to show up at roadside petting zoos and ‘circuses’ to monitor how the animals were treated and hand out literature to people attending the events, raising awareness about the poor conditions and treatment of those animals. She showed up to help rescue and care for animals, wild and domestic, after natural disasters such as hurricanes and wildfires. She regularly lobbied local, state, and even the national government for animal protections.
The chance that she could have done something in the “gray area” for one of her causes was pretty good.
The problem with that was he knew that wouldn’t keep him from wanting her.
She was precisely the kind of woman he should be avoiding.
He studied her face for another long moment, then gave in to the inevitable. He pushed his door open.
“Yeah?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
She wasn’t dying, wasn’t married, and hadn’t killed anyone. And he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted another woman in his life. So how was he possibly going to shut the door on her? After three months of missing her? He wasn’t that strong. Or stupid.
*****
Review:
So I’ve been enjoying Knox and Fiona dancing around each other for quite a few books now, and I was really looking forward to their story, but I’ll admit that I was really convinced early on that Knox was beyond a … jerk. Then he shares his reasons for wanting a long distance relationship (which was a big of a surprise) and my heart just went out to him. I didn’t think that I could like him any more than I did coming in but then he showed us his ooey-gooey center and he’s now my favorite book boyfriend – nerdy, sexy, intense, and sweet.
Fiona is still sassy, strong, and committed to her animals, to her loved ones, and to ruffling Knox’s well put together feathers. Her secrets are just as audacious as she is and nothing less than we should have expected from her. I loved getting to know her (and those close to her) better as the story unfolds. She understands Knox as no one else does and truly appreciates him. If she can only convince him that they can make a relationship work.
Small town charm, boisterous characters, and enough heat to keep things interesting all mix together to give readers a satisfying conclusion to the Boys of the Bayou Gone Wild series (although, never fear – there are more books coming from this world).
*Part of a series but can be enjoyed as a stand alone, although the prequal Otterly Into You is a must read and currently free on Amazon.*
*****
Author Info:
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Erin Nicholas has been writing romances almost as long as she’s been reading them. To date, she’s written over thirty sexy, contemporary novels that have been described as “toe-curling,” “enchanting,” “steamy,” and “fun.” She adores reluctant heroes, imperfect heroines, and happily ever afters.
Erin lives in the Midwest, where she enjoys spending time with her husband (who only wants to read the sex scenes in her books), her kids (who will never read the sex scenes in her books), and her family and friends (who claim to be “shocked” by the sex scenes in her books).
In this mesmerizing Regency romance by Jennifer Monroe, a mysterious marquess and a misunderstood beauty need to realize that when love and magic mingle with desire, the results can be extraordinary…
Spellbound by a glamorous man…
Miss Diana Kendricks is the rarest of young women: She is actually looking forward to becoming a lifelong spinster!
Disillusioned by what she has seen of married life, she eagerly awaits the day when she is considered securely “on the shelf.” However, Diana fails to take into account the most treacherous twist—her own traitorous heart, which finds itself skipping a beat when she meets Lord James Barrington, mysteriously labeled as the Marquess of Magic.
Love is the greatest enchantment of all…
Lord Barrington has always loved magic. Since childhood, he has found it thrilling to perform illusions and conjurations, to shock an audience, and leave them breathless. But in ordinary life, no magic can vanish away the dangerous secret he hides. James should not even be considering marriage. But when he chances upon Diana, she seems like his perfect match—beautiful, witty, with similar interests to his own. He cannot risk losing her to another suitor, and soon James has hopelessly ensnared both their hearts.
But James’s secret will not stay hidden in the shadows. When it comes to love, the truth may be the greatest magic trick of all—and James must soon reveal it, lest he lose his one true love forever…
The Full Sisterhood of Secrets Series #1 Duke of Madness #2 Baron of Rake Street #3 Marquess of Magic #4 Earl of Deception #5 Knight of Destiny #6 Captain of Second Chances https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09KCHWB5V
*****
Author Info:
Jennifer Monroe writes Regency romances you can’t resist. Her stories are filled with first loves and second chances, dashing dukes, and strong heroines. Each turn of the page promises an adventure in love and many late nights of reading.
With over twenty books published, her nine-part series, The Secrets of Scarlett Hall, which tells the stories of the Lambert Children, remain a favorite with her readers.
Enemies become lovers in this hot and hilarious marriage of convenience.
The Alphahole’s Guide to Marrying The Enemy
by Piper Marlowe
Blurb:
The Brooklyn warehouse is filled with graffiti and pigeon poo. It’s practically begging to be converted into luxury loft apartments.
And yet, will my mother sell it to me, her only son, the investment wunderkind?
“Darling, buildings have souls,” she says, between sips of green juice.
“Show me that you’re on the path to spiritual wellness, and I’ll give it to you.”
Enter Sydney Taylor, my best friend’s little sister, spiritually well enough for even my mother’s past selves to approve of, and my least favorite person on earth…in this life or any of the others I’ve supposedly lived. I wouldn’t date her if she was the last woman on earth. I’ve repeatedly fantasized about shipping her to Mars.
Instead, I marry her.
I know, I know, my crew has quite the history with phony relationships, but this one’s different.
No matter what my mother sees in our auras.
Or how much I want to hate-boink her maddeningly sweet little…
Yep, once my mother signs over that building, I’m definitely going to walk away from this hot-fakery totally unscathed.
And if you buy that, I’ve got a bridge in Brooklyn to sell you.
Love just means you haven’t scored yet. Keep playing. Keep hitting that ball until you make a winner out of yourself. In tennis, a winner can’t have love.
And I’m a winner. I’m the one who wins, and wins, and then sleeps with the prom queen. Normal people wish they could walk in my shoes for a few hours, then they feel jealous when they meet me.
I’m a stone-cold winner. Twenty-eight, TriBeCa penthouse, over a billion in the bank, a dick that could choke a giraffe. Women love me, then hate me later on. That’s fine, as long as they love me first. I’ve won every single game I’ve ever played. Well… except this one.
“That’s the match!” my mother says, beaming at me from across the court.
Fuck, I let that last volley of hers sail right past my head. I glare at the stupid yellow ball as it bounces off the court.
Yep. That’s the set. Four games to two. At least I didn’t get love though. That’d make me a real fucking loser.
“Good job, Maryann,” I mutter. Mom doesn’t mind that I call her by her first name. She didn’t think it was weird even when I started doing it at six.
“Chin up, sweetheart.” My mother walks off the court at my side, beaming as she slides her sunglasses on top of her ageless blond head.
“You know, you only lost because you never commit to your backhand.”
“I lost,” I say, “because Sydney Taylor kept distracting me.”
Honestly, the Kensington Tennis Club is the exact last place I ever thought Sydney fucking Taylor would show her face. It’s the summer meet-and-greet locale for all of New York’s high society. While Sydney got a membership to that club by being born into one of the richest families on the planet, she’s never wanted to hang around with any of us “trust-fund assholes.” Her term, not mine. Like I said, WASP-y tennis club isn’t her idea of a good time. I’d have expected her to be building outhouses down in Guatemala or getting into a fist fight with Richard Spencer.
Not that I’d blame her.
But here she is, seated at a table on the patio, shooting me one smug grimace after another. When she catches me staring, she cheerfully flips me off. Then, in case anyone becomes shocked by her unladylike display, she uses her middle finger to scratch her forehead.
Classy save, Syd.
I fucking hate her, and the feeling’s mutual.
*****
Author Info:
Piper Marlowe is an absolute legend, if you know where to look. And trust us, you don’t.
For national security reasons, her identity is a secret. As a matter of fact, there’s a good chance that at this very moment, she’s undercover, speaking with a bad Lithuanian accent to a bunch of shady characters. She can neither confirm nor deny that she’s writing ultra-fun, uber-witty, hot-darn-sexy romance to distract from the stress of her current clandestine operation.
Or maybe romance writing is the cover for a cover?
She could tell you, but then she’d have to . . . you know. That.
USA Today bestselling author Sarah Morgan returns with the ultimate beach read, as one woman forges the most unlikely friendship of all, and embarks on a summer of confronting her past in order to build the future she wants…
When Joanna Whitman’s famous ex-husband dies in a car accident, she doesn’t know what to feel. Their dysfunctional marriage held more painful secrets than she cares to remember. But when she discovers that the young woman with him in the crash is pregnant, Joanna feels compelled to act, knowing exactly how brutal the media spotlight will be on celebrity chef Cliff Whitman’s ex-wife and his mysterious female friend.
Ashley Blake can’t believe it when Joanna shows up in her hospital room and suggests they hide away at her beach house on a sleepy stretch of California coast. Joanna should be hating her, not helping her. But alone and pregnant, Ashley can’t turn down Joanna’s offer. Yet she knows that if Joanna ever found out the real reason Ashley was in that car, their tentative bond would shatter instantly.
Joanna’s only goal for the summer is privacy, but her return causes major waves in the local community, especially for the man she left behind years ago. All Ashley wants is space to plan for her and her baby’s future, and to avoid causing any trouble for Joanna. But as secrets spill out under the hot summer sun, this unlikely friendship is about to be put to the test.
*****
Review:
Morgan’s latest is a lovely story about how not everything is what it seems and sometimes the only way to go forward is to look to the past.
Joanna has spent years in a spotlight that she doesn’t want and since divorcing her celebrity chef husband she’s done everything she can to avoid it. The sudden death of her husband under scandalous circumstances has the press back at her door. Realizing what it means for her, and the woman in the car with him, Joanna takes them both and heads to her home town to hide. Which also puts her close to those she left behind many years ago. While they wait for the press to find them, secrets come out and connections are made.
Beach House Summer is a slow burn as Joanna and Ashley get to know each other and examine who they are & what they want. Joanna also has to face her past – a friendship lost and a love that might be again.
Hi readers! I’m Hana Sheik, and it’s release day for my second Harlequin Romance/Mills & Boon True Love, Temptation in Istanbul. Yippee!!! I’m here to share an excerpt from the book with you today. It’s a first kiss scene, and I’ll never tire of writing any firsts between lovers.
If you love first kisses too, I hope this one hits your sweet spot.💕
Temptation in Istanbul
by Hana Sheik
Blurb:
A single dad’s greatest temptation? The nanny on his doorstep!
Billionaire Faisal is anxiously awaiting custody of his little girl, who’s been living miles away with her mother. First he must win the approval of her nanny, Maryan, who has traveled with her to Istanbul. While he shows Maryan the delights of his city, the instant attraction between them is hard to ignore. But Maryan leaves in two weeks, so Faisal must decide how much of his bruised heart he is prepared to risk…
Maryan hesitated a second, and then she grasped his hand, his long, strong fingers holding hers in an even-pressured grip.
Their hands remained clasped longer than necessary.
Longer than she’d have normally liked.
But Faisal had made her feel like she wasn’t alone. Like her troubles were his in a way, and she’d come out of this baking and talking feeling lighter, calmer.
Happier.
“Maryan.” He spoke her name in a breathy whisper; a reverence pulsed from those two syllables. So much so that it sounded less like her name and more like a prayer. She shivered visibly, unable to help the reaction. Her body temperature rose when he closed the short gap between them and his hand brushed up her arm before moving to cup her too-warm cheek. It was a simple touch that set off a firework of desire in her.
“Thank you for listening. For asking. For pushing to know.”
He spoke her mind. Those were the exact words she wished to utter to him. And she would have, had she had a voice to do it with.
His next breath was drawn out, the heat of it brushing her cheek when he planted a quick kiss there.
She stood frightfully still, the pressure of his soft mouth, the emotion behind the gesture, forcing open an ocean’s worth of yearning for him. When he slowly drew his head up, almost reluctantly, Maryan made her choice.
Or maybe he’d made it first, and she went along for the ride.
Because when his eyes regarded her, and his face pushed in closer again, their noses brushing, she pulled up onto her toes and connected their lips in an intimate play of his chaste kiss on her cheek. A hunger accentuated their lip-lock. It colored the moan rumbling through his chest and the heated press of their bodies as he backed her into the opposite counter.
Resurfacing for air was expected but unwanted.
Maryan would’ve gladly allowed Faisal to steal another kiss and rob her of breath again. A clanging alertness took hold of her when he growled, “Maryan,” and splayed his heavy, warm hands on her hips.
This time she knew who made the decision for them.
She pushed him away first. Gently, pleadingly. She didn’t have the strength to do it twice.
“We can’t.” And they really couldn’t. They had to think of Zara. What would she wonder if she caught them kissing?
And I’m leaving in a week.
A week wasn’t a good enough reason to jump into bed with the first good-looking billionaire who swept her off her feet. Chemistry or no chemistry, sleeping with Faisal would be a stupid and dangerous move. Stupid because there was no chance it would become a meaningful relationship, and dangerous for the very same reason.
She backed away, her shaking hands giving up on untying her apron.
Abandoning the kitchen, she hightailed it to her room and didn’t look back until she closed her door.
She counted the seconds that lapsed from the time she left him.
When no knock came from the other side and no footsteps down the hall, she pressed a hand to her thumping heart and analyzed what happened downstairs with Faisal.
He’d kissed her.
Correction: they had kissed.
She’d been an active participant in it. That, and she couldn’t kid herself that she hadn’t thought of kissing him before then.
As Maryan stood there, her body more alive in that second than it ever was, two things were clearer now about her and Faisal. Their hearts were both closed off to love, and their attraction was a potent force of nature that went against everything she thought she could feel with another human being before.
*****
Author Info:
Hana Sheikfalls in love every day reading her favourite romances and writing her ownhappy-ever-afters. She’s worked as a data entry operator, customer service rep, telemarketer, andghostwriter—but being a romance author is without a doubt the best job ever! Born in Somalia, shemoved to the beautiful capital of Canada as a toddler, and still lives there happily with her family.
Giveaway to Win 3 x paperback copies of Temptation in Istanbul (Open to UK / Ireland / US &Canada)
*Terms and Conditions–UK / Ireland / US and Canada entries welcome. Please enter using the Rafflecopter box below. The winner will be selected at random via Rafflecopter from all valid entries and will be notified by Twitter and/or email. If no response is received within 7 days then Rachel’s Random Resources reserves the right to select an alternative winner. Open to all entrants aged 18 or over. Any personal data given as part of the competition entry is used for this purpose only and will not be shared with third parties, with the exception of the winners’ information. This will passed to the giveaway organiser and used only for fulfillment of the prize, after which time Rachel’s Random Resources will delete the data. I am not responsible for dispatch or delivery of the prize.
Romantic Reads and Such 