Miranda Brookhaven returned to Bitterthorn, Texas
to fix the past. Years ago, her father used her teenage romance with Coe Rodas
to steal the prototype for a groundbreaking new automotive invention. Now her
father's dead, and thanks to the convoluted will he left behind, she's stuck in
town until she rights the wrong that lost her the man she loved.
Coe learned early on that life never goes
according to plan. His dreams of hitting it big vanished when Miranda all but
invited her father to take the only thing of value he ever had. But now the
once-pampered princess is holed up in a condemned trailer on the edge of
town...and everything he thought he knew about her—and about what happened
between them back then—seems completely wrong.
Miranda's determined to give back to Coe all that
he lost. If she can do that, maybe she can move on from the past. But Coe seems
to be more interested in their rekindled passion than claiming what she thinks
he deserves. She's got sixty days to convince him to cough up evidence that
he's the original inventor—after that, the only way to transfer the patent
rights over to him would be to make him part of the family, and she's not sure
her heart can take another hit.
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Excerpt
“Shit like dirt and grime don’t belong on you.
Silk, diamonds…me. That’s what
belongs on you.” His big feet were on either side of hers, and she drank in the
heat pouring off his chest at her back as he went about sliding his soapy
fingers through hers. It felt good, that slick slide of flesh against flesh.
Too good. The heat sinking into every pore of her skin brought her back to when
they’d been in this situation once before, and it made her bite her lip. She
remembered the trembling, the excitement, and the crippling uncertainty of what
she should do next.
Time really made all the difference in the
world. Seven years later, she now knew exactly what to do.
Her soapy hands slipped over his, squeezing,
caressing. Cleaning his skin as he cleaned hers, yes, but it was obvious her
interests weren’t just in getting clean. But maybe that was because while she
did that, she also nudged her ass back against him, hitching up just a bit so
she could hit the money spot…
He sucked in a sharp breath.
Jackpot.
“Miranda.” His voice was low and rumbling. It
purred down the length of her spine to pool deep in her belly, where the sweet
tension of need began to curl in on itself. That masculine rumble shortened her
breath and tensed her thigh muscles, because she knew what it meant. He wanted
her, and soon he’d go for what he wanted just as hard and hot as she wanted him
to. “Careful, babe.”
“I had you shut the doors. That’s careful
enough.” She looked over her shoulder at him, just as she had when she was
eighteen and almost dying from attraction. It was no less intense now, and she
could only marvel at the hold he had on her. “I hope you have protection on
you, because I won’t be satisfied with just a kiss this time around.”
“But you will
be satisfied.” With the glitter of arousal building into a wildfire blaze in
his eyes, he turned off the water. Then he braced her hands on the far lip on
the sink before reaching for the front of her pants. “This garage guarantees
satisfaction for all the work I do here.”
“Good policy.” The last of her retort fizzled
on a hiss as his fingers dived past the barrier of her panties and into her
cleft. Her head dropped forward while she pushed against his hand, and the
sinuous roll of her hips rubbed the hardness behind her. Her pleasure fed his,
and soon their disturbed breathing was echoing through the garage.
Damn, but the man knew what he was doing.
“I love how wet you get for me.” His voice was
deliciously rough, exciting her all the more. Then the sound of a zipper and
crinkling of packaging being ripped open reached her ears, and she almost
hyperventilated. “I’m going to make you come so hard your legs won’t be able to
hold you for the rest of the day.”
Oh, dear
God…
A competitive figure skater from the age of
eight, Stacy Gail began writing stories in between events to pass the time. By
the age of fourteen, she told her parents she was either going to be a figure
skating coach who was also a published romance writer, or a romance writer who
was also a skating pro. Now with a day job of playing on the ice with her
students, and writing everything from steampunk to cyberpunk, contemporary to
paranormal at night, both dreams have come true.
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