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About the author:
Emily is a chocolate junkie, Grey’s Anatomy fan, and admirer of good music. She loves summer rains, warm blankets on cold winter nights, as well as traveling, sleeping in late, watching TV shows, cooking, and baking. When she’s not writing or rewriting, she loves spending time with family and friends.
Here is a short sample from the book:
I manage to make only a couple of steps when Ryan catches me around the elbow and turns me to face him. I don’t even have time to react when he crushes me to him, lifts my face to his, and kisses me hard.
Ryan kisses me like he’s never kissed me before. With desperation, as if he’d die if he stops. His lips and tongue are demanding, hungry, almost bruising. It’s not the tentative, reclaiming kiss I expected us to have after so many months apart. No. This is a devouring, claiming, and merciless kiss. It’s an I-hate-seeing-other-men-touch-you, why-are-you-fighting-us, every-second-without-you-is-torture kiss.
Feeling fire run through my veins, I bring my hands up to cup his jaw and kiss him back with everything I am. Even if I’m not ready to admit it, being without Ryan has been an insufferable anguish for me too. No matter how hard I try to deny it, my heart still wants him with every beat it takes.
I don’t even care that we’re making a scene when my hands roam over his hard body, grabbing and squeezing.
When our lips finally part, we stare at each other, his breaths as labored as my own. I swallow. Neither of us moves as tension zings between us.
Shit, what have I done?
In a poor attempt at protecting my heart, I take a step away from Ryan and murmur, “You shouldn’t have done that.”
His jaw clenches and his eyes fill with a rush of remorse.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t … God, I’m such a fucking asshole. I’m really sorry.”
No, I didn’t mean that. I want you to do it again. No. I don’t.
God, I’m a mess.
“It’s okay. I mean … I did kiss you back. I…” My stammering will cost me.
His expression suddenly relaxes and a bit of a triumph flashes in his eyes. “You did.”
He cups my cheek, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. “Let me chase away all your fears about us. Let me kiss all the scars I left on your heart.”
He’s so earnest in his plea.
“Ryan …” I whisper, feeling the walls I’ve built to protect myself crack with his every word. And his expression. God, I’m drowning in the depths of the emotions pouring out of his green eyes.
“Being apart from you, thinking I’d never hold you like this again has been hell.”
Holy, sweet Lord. What is he doing to me?
Radiating agony streams from him. “Never again I’ll make a choice for you or demean your opinion. I promise to always respect your wishes and your freedom to make decisions for yourself. No matter how strong my feelings for you are, it doesn’t give me the right to decide for you.” He pauses and gathers a deep breath. “It took me a long time to realize we have nothing without trust. I know that now. I’ll never make the same mistake again, Liz. Let me make good on every broken promise. Let me dry every precious tear you shed for me.”
He leans down, his lips hovering over mine, and whispers across my mouth. “Elizabeth, please, forgive me.”
His plea wraps around my heart and squeezes, taking my breath away. I push back the tears.
God, I dreamed about this moment for so long. Now it’s here, and I’m stunned and lost.
Before I can form a coherent thought, his lips are on mine again. This kiss is different. It’s loving and slow and begs for forgiveness. And it ends too soon.