Last month I talked about my debut series, about how it began, rounding it out with the novella, and my plans for the last book. Today I’m going to share an excerpt from my recent release, Tempting Fate, which is the novella in The Lost Girls series.
Rose Murphy and her brother’s friend and lawyer, Drew Laramie, have been circling each other for years. She’s finally ready to act on their mutual attraction, and this is what Drew has to say about it…
“I’m always serious when I’m negotiating. How many nights are you going to give me, Rose?”
He was mocking me, or at the very least, playing hard to get. As if I was going to bust out my day planner and pencil him in for Tuesday through Thursday. “Look, if you don’t want anything to happen, it won’t. You don’t have to pretend.”
He grinned, the tilt of his lips somehow boyish on his lined face. “So I’m pretending now. You’ve gone from shy to aggressive in the blink of an eye, but I’m the one being disingenuous?”
Point taken. I scoffed anyway. “I’m not shy.”
“I don’t think so,” he agreed in a musing tone. “But you sure do a good impression.”
“Oh, I see. You think you know me.” Just like my brother thought he had me figured out. She’s frightened. She’s fragile. Let’s cover her in plaster and set her on the mantel beside the other unfeeling artwork.
Drew shook his head slowly, his expression thoughtful. “Probably not.”
He leaned forward, closer than I was expecting until I had to restrain myself from jerking back—or latching on to him. His heat caressed my cheek, his breath brushed against my neck. We touched nowhere at all, but I felt him on every taut nerve of my skin.
“But I want to know you,” he murmured.
“Then why?” I closed my eyes, adrift in his nearness. “Why haven’t you done anything?”
“I don’t make a habit of harassing women in their homes, especially when…”
My indignation rose. “Especially when their brother is paying you enough money to keep your hands to yourself.”
His voice was softer when he said, “When I’m not sure she would welcome it.”
My retort caught in my throat. Would I have welcomed him? Not at first, certainly. He would have been just like every other man who wanted to sneak behind Philip’s back, too stupid to know what was good for him.
Maybe I had needed this, his restraint like an incubator for my burgeoning lust. Like he said, I’d gone from shy to aggressive, only it hadn’t happened in a second, it had been minutes, days, years of waiting for a moment when it would be safe to reach out.
“So you do want me,” I said, and despite my assertiveness earlier, it came out uncertain.
He regarded me for a moment, impassive.
Finally he said, “You would run from me screaming if you knew all the ways I want you.”
Shock raced down my spine, followed by a wave of pure lust. Part of me wanted just that—to know everything, to feel him everywhere until I was so wrapped up that I never suffered the chill of loneliness again. The other part of me was exactly as naive as his slightly amused expression proclaimed me to be.