BLURB:
Abigail has been separated from her husband
for almost two years. After a marriage that brought her only insecurity, she
seeks a life now of peace and independence with their six-year-old daughter.
Thomas wants to put their marriage back together, because he liked the wife he
used to have, but she never wants to be that person again.
She might need his help with their daughter and start to enjoy his
company again, but she just can't trust him with her heart. Even when she
discovers that her heart still wants him for a husband.
Excerpt:
She was leaning back against the counter, and Thomas was
standing far too close to her. Once again invading her personal space. And this
time she easily recognized his tone as snide. “What the heck is your problem?”
Thomas had one hand on the counter beside her, bracing
himself as he stood just a few inches away from her. She would have scooted
over, but that would have been a surrender.
His green eyes were intent on her face, and she saw his
nostrils flare just a little. “You smell like him.”
Abigail gasped, mostly from shock and outrage but also with
the faintest trace of arousal at the intimacy of the words. “What?”
“I said,” he gritted out, edging even closer until the
fabric of his shirt brushed against her arm and one of her breasts, “you smell
like him.”
“Well, what do you expect?” she demanded, her anger blazing
quickly. No one could rile her up like Thomas could. “I spent the evening with
the man.”
Something grew even tenser in his expression. “Did you?”
She knew him well enough to understand the resonance in his
words. “Damn you, Thomas,” she said in a harsh whisper, making sure her voice
didn’t carry past the kitchen. She’d never used such language before they’d
gotten separated. “You have no right to act this way.”
Clearly Thomas too was conscious of not waking Mia, since
his murmur was thick, rough, and soft. “I’d like to remind you of the fact that
you’re still my wife.”
“And what makes you think I need any sort of reminder of
that?
His lips tightened into white. “I saw him walk you to the
door.”
She sucked in an indignant breath and clenched her fists at
her sides. Thomas was still far too close. She could feel the heat radiating
off his body, sense the leashed tension in his stance, hear the fast, uneven
breaths he was taking. “So someone isn’t allowed to be polite to me now,
because I’m still your wife?”
Thomas made a guttural sound and braced his other hand on the
counter, imprisoning her in between his arms. He leaned forward, pushing her
back, and he rasped against her ear. “That man wasn’t just being polite. You
know it as well as I do.”
She was so angry now she could hardly think straight, and it
was worse to know that he was right. She’d been foolish in not recognizing what
Jim was thinking long before now.
But worst of all was a familiar feeling building beneath her
belly. She knew how to recognize it. Knew it was triggered by the proximity of
Thomas’s lean, hard body, his familiar scent flooding her senses, his piercing
eyes and thick voice.
Her body was primed for sex with him, even as she wanted to
scratch lines down his slightly flushed face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Noelle
handwrote her first romance novel in a spiral-bound notebook when she was
twelve, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. She has lived in eight different
states and currently resides in Virginia, where she teaches English, reads any
book she can get her hands on, and offers tribute to a very spoiled cocker
spaniel.
She loves
travel, art, history, and ice cream. After spending far too many years of her
life in graduate school, she has decided to reorient her priorities and focus
on writing contemporary romances.
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