Some choices are simple, some are hard, and some leave a brand.
One unforgettable night at a masquerade changes it all.
Mogul Nik Strand is all too familiar with the curve balls life likes to throw. Believing his soul can never be restored, he covers his pain and heartbreak with money. The more the better—as his heart is nothing but ice.
Aimee Taylor makes a decision that will haunt her forever. Unfortunately life doesn’t come with a do over; therefore, she makes the best out of what she has.
An unforeseen circumstance brings these two together again, even though, neither can explain how or why the other seems so familiar. As love tries to heal this wounded couple, a common adversary seeks to destroy.
Please note: This book has strong language, violence, and sexual content. Not intended for readers under the age of 18.
NikWe entered the penthouse, and I immediately led her towards one of the spare bedrooms. It was a crucial error on my end. How did I expect myself not to touch her when she was under the same roof? The smell of her lured me to her side. As I opened the door for her, I informed, “You can sleep here in the guestroom.” She was so weary I wasn’t sure she’d make it to the bed. When she stumbled over her own two feet, I clutched her elbow to keep her from faceplanting onto the floor. My God, she was beautiful. I had to divert my gaze before I did something impetuous.
Her eyes were heavy as she curled up under the covers. As I turned off the lamp on the nightstand, she grabbed my hand. “Stay. Please?” she slurred.
Oh, hell no. I did not have the strength for that. I brushed my fingertips along her cheekbone. “I’ll be right here, little one,” I reassured. “I’m not going anywhere. Rest, now.”
She mumbled, something like, “Only one man has ever called me ‘little one.’ ”
I smiled and whispered, “Sleep sweet.” I shut the door, not quite understanding why she had shared that information. She’s very tired and probably has no idea she said it, I chastised myself mentally. A woman like her should be loved and cherished, not debased and ignored, which was exactly what would happen if I gave into my impulses. I could not have a functioning relationship with a woman. I knew that. I was fully aware of my failures, and how much I was capable of hurting her. My past alone was enough to make any woman run, screaming.
Lora is a Missouri native who relocated to California as a teen. She spent several years as an international flight attendant for a major airline, before taking on her greatest job ever, a stay-at-home mom. Now she resides in Kentucky with her family, and has taken on her newest adventure, writing.
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