Harlequin Romantic Suspense April 2021 Karen Whiddon (best fiction books to read TXT) 📖

lost. Constant stress at how they’d work out their demanding careers, yes. But also, long nights of intimate conversation, soul baring, and of course, lovemaking she’d never forgotten.

He ran his fingers through his hair again. “I’m sorry. There’s no need for us to be in each other’s face like this. It’s my fault. I’m protective of GGPD. It’s in my blood. Literally.” The reminder of how close he was to his sister triggered a pang of regret in her chest. It was one of the many things she’d found so attractive about Stanton, the way he respected and treasured his family.

“I’m upset and angry that an innocent man went to jail and served time, and while doing so was murdered. And yes, I think there’s a dirty cop or GGPD employee behind it, along with the drug kingpin. But I have the highest regard for any man or woman who’d willingly put themselves in harm’s way for our protection.”

He nodded. “I know. But it’s not easy, seeing the headlines day after day in the Grave Gulch Gazette. It’s exhausting for all involved. And then the rumors that the paper will get acknowledged nationally—no one is against journalism or a local paper being rewarded. But—”

“But not if it makes local authorities, like your sister, look bad.” She let the words slip out before she thought, and immediately wished she could take them back. Stanton was offering her an olive branch. His eyes widened slightly but she knew him well enough to know she’d angered him. “Wait, I’m sorry, Stanton. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you’re free to say whatever you want. You always have been.” Zing right to her emotional solar plexus. He apparently hadn’t forgotten their last conversation two years ago, when she’d blithely refused his marriage proposal. It’d been right here, in front of these windows, in the middle of the night after a particularly long round of lovemaking. She only figured it out afterward that he’d been planning it, when she realized he must have bought the ring ahead of time. But in the moment, they’d both been naked. Sated. Vulnerable. And she hadn’t been ready for such a permanent commitment, not yet, but had begged him to stay together until she was. The pain of how he’d shifted gears, told her they weren’t on the same page, their relationship wasn’t ever going to work, still burned. But so did her attraction to him.

Their gazes met, and in his eyes she saw all she’d lost, all that could have been, and the man he was today.

“I—”

“No.” He placed a finger on her lips. As stern and annoyed as his expression was, his touch was gentle. A whisper. “Stop talking, Dominique. Give me a minute here.”

Give him a minute? Why did he need time? It wasn’t as if he was as unsettled by her closeness as she was by his. He’d given no indication he was. Only then, on closer inspection, did she see how his pulse jumped in an erratic dance at the side of his strong jaw. His pupils were dilated, even with afternoon sunlight streaming into the penthouse. And his breath—he sounded as though he’d run up a flight of stairs as he closed his eyes, presumably to shut out her image.

Clarity hit and her breath hitched. While their minds knew they didn’t belong together any longer, their bodies hadn’t gotten the text. As if in a trance, her right hand reached up and stroked his cheek.

“Don’t.” His plea came out in a gravelly whisper, and he kept his eyes closed. But he didn’t stop her. Her ire melted into compassion. She knew too well what it was like to fight it as he did now. She’d struggled to keep her physical desire in check from the moment he’d looked into her eyes right after he’d rescued her this morning.

“It’s okay, Stanton. Isn’t it normal to feel like this with an ex? We’re not robots.” She shouldn’t be standing so close to him, shouldn’t tempt fate by touching him at all. Her fingers explored his jaw, stubbled by beard growth, unable to get enough of him. No amount of touch with Stanton would ever be enough. She swayed toward him, unable to stop the desire-fueled momentum that pushed her closer.

“Dom.” With no further preamble, Stanton’s arms came around her waist and he tugged her flush against him. Air whooshed from her lungs as she felt his full length, including his erection, through their layers of clothing. She let her arms go to his shoulders and met him halfway as his mouth came down on hers.

CHAPTER 4

Stanton used every ounce of control to not take Dominique here and now, the way he remembered she liked it best, on the sofa. On the same cushion she’d been perched on like an injured bird, still stunned from flying into a window. If not for her earlier scare, he didn’t think he’d be able to hold back. She’d recovered enough from her attack to be fully present in this moment, though, as her tongue met his with insistence, her lips pliant and delicious under his. It was as if they’d never stopped kissing since the last time he’d held her like this.

Stanton had never wanted Dominique more than he did in this moment. How had he waited two years to hold her again, to taste her? He shook with need as he held her but refused to manhandle her no matter what he knew—that she loved it when they both gave their sex life all they had to give.

The reminder of that relationship, and why it hadn’t lasted, made him lift his head. He stopped the kiss but couldn’t keep from devouring her with his gaze.

Her lips were wet, slightly parted, her eyes closed. No matter the bruises, the shadows under her eyes that told him she was working at full tilt on the Charlie Hamm story. Dominique was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known.

“Please, Stanton. Kiss me.”