After years of chasing the wrong kind of woman, Jack is shocked by the
instant attraction he feels for the mousy historian with shadows in her eyes
and passion simmering beneath her surface. Jack can’t get past the lust firing
his blood or the memories of her response to his touch, for passionate, sexy
Gillian is everything he’s ever wanted. Are they strong enough to face down the
demons haunting Gillian? Can she trust the man who holds her heart with her
darkest secrets and accept his help to overcome the shadows of her past? Or
will the darkness destroy them both?
EXCERPT:
“That’s it, Miss Hilliard. As per your
request, I leftmost of it down.” The young woman leaned down, her hand on
Gilli’s shoulder. “You’re going to knock ’em dead.”
Gilli offered a
short, weak laugh and patted the girl’s hand. “Thanks.” She slipped her glasses
on and rose to totter toward the door on the stilettos her mother persisted she
wear. As she exited, the door closed behind her with a click. Gilli turned,
smacking face first into a tall, hard wall of flesh before her. Heat seared her
body at the touch of his hands on the bare flesh of her back. Putting a couple
of inches between them, Gilli glanced upward. Her heart dropped before
galloping in place.
Dark brown hair
curled over a tanned forehead, green eyes as dark as pine stared at her,
bemusement sparkling in them. “Excuse me, miss.”
She shuddered at
the slow drawl curling like a lover’s touch into her core. Her labia pulsed
beneath the lace of her panties. A flush crept along her throat to heat her
cheeks and she ducked her head to hide the wave of color washing over her face.
She cleared her throat. “No, pardon me. Entirely my fault.”
Scurrying down the
hall, she gasped at the sensitivity in her breasts. Heavy, full, the nipples
throbbed beneath the layers of satin and lace. Desperate to cool her blood, she
darted past a couple of women and into the ladies room. The thin metal door
offered minimal protection as she locked herself into a stall. A thud filled
the silence as she let her forehead drop and leaned against the icy metal and
inhaled.
Gods above, Zeus in the flesh right before
me. What I wouldn’t give to have him … but he’s not going…Arousal scorched
along her veins, pooling between her legs and soaking her underwear. Like
venom, her ex’s sneering tone filled her mind. You couldn’t turn a light bulb on, Gillian, sexless. You should get a
boob job. Can’t count…
The soft clunk of
the heavy public bathroom’s door opening preceded Barbara’s biting tone.
“Gillian, don’t think I didn’t see you…”
An uneasy cringe
escaped in spite of the relief at the shattered memory. Gillian squeezed her
eyes shut. “Mother, can I not use the facilities without you harping at me?”
Gillian smoothed her skirt down, rolling her shoulders forward in the hopes of
hiding her erect nipples. “I’ll be therein a moment.”
“Well hurry up,
they’ve already got everyone seated. Goodness, child, you’d think you’d
remember this was my wedding!” The bathroom door clicked shut on her mother’s
tirade.
With a roll of her
eyes, Gillian stepped out of the stall, shot a look at her reflection in the
mirror and inhaled.
“There’s no point
in getting hot and bothered over the likes of him. He ain’t going to want you.”
Gilli waved a hand at her reflection, a perfect imitation of her mother.
“Horn-rimmed glasses, mousy-looking hair, notits. Didn’t Mike teach you a damn
thing, Gillian? Men don’t want a mouse, they want a sex pot and you’re not it.”
With a quick shake
of her head, she smoothed her skirt down, sucked in a deep breath, and pulled
open the bathroom door. She glanced around carefully before darting into the
hallway.
Pressed close to
the wall, she took her place before her mother, feeling like an over-stuffed
Easter egg as the wedding march began to play. A smile pasted on her face, she
gripped the flowers in her hand tighter and began the slow but steady shuffle
toward the preacher.
Focused on getting
there without falling, Gilli gasped at the man standing next to the altar.
Laughing green eyes watched her, his lips turned upward at the corners. A
slight shadow covered his square jaw. The dark suit he wore clung to his broad
shoulders, tucking in at his waist. She wondered if beneath his suit coat, his
ass was as good as the rest of him. Embarrassed, she stepped back, narrowly
missing tripping on her own gown’s hem. Her mother’s pointed clearing of her
throat drew her attention to the woman sashaying along, the yards and yards of
tulle and lace out of place on a woman in her fifties—who’d had six previous
husbands and more lovers then Gillian thought healthy. The unspoken warning in
Barb’s eyes pierced clearer than any shouting match could be. There would be
hell to pay if any attention slipped from the bride.
“Typical.” Gilli
glared at the flowers, disgust rolling in her nauseous gut. She offered a
prayer the ceremony would draw to a quick end so she could ditch the shoes, the
flowers, and find a quiet corner to relax in, with the help of an expensive
bottle of champagne.
She shot a glance
across the aisle, heat suffusing her face when she caught sex in a cummerbund’s
eye. Screw the wine—what she wouldn’t give to get lost in him. Maybe if she’d
been different… Pushing aside the vague thought, she focused on the drone of
her mother’s voice as she spoke her vows.
Author Bio:
Born in a small community,
Elise Whyles lives in Canada with her son and husband. She’s currently working
on the next book in the Canadian Heros Trilogy as well as the next book in the
paranormal romance series Forsaken. Elise writes in multiple genres,
paranormal, contemporary, erotic, m/m. To learn more about her or to drop her a
note please stop by her website.
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