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“Ms. Stoneley definitely knows how to write chemistry. These two had it in spades. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other.”--All Romance All the Time
SHE’S IN FOR THE RIDE OF HER LIFE…
He never let himself be ruled by desire, and yet the minute Roisin Grant looked at him, Saul knew he had to have her. It didn’t matter that her equestrian business was struggling or that he was there to collect on a mountain of debt—all that mattered was the way she responded to his touch as if she were coming alive for the first time in years.
One night with Roisin isn’t enough. One year wouldn’t be enough. Determined to keep Roisin in his life and in his bed, Saul makes an offer he knows she can’t refuse: either walk away from the stables and the life she’s always known, or consider her debt paid in full by delivering an altogether different kind of riding lesson…
What readers are saying:
“Super sexy and highly erotic... It is a fast-paced story that will set your eReader on fire.”
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'LOVED the characters, LOVED the plot, and LOVED the naughtiness ;)'
'...an engaging, refreshing and sexy read.'
‘I’d kill the bastard if he was my husband.’
‘Yeah, so would I –’ Roisin leant over and sloshed another generous measure of Toby’s best scotch into Sam’s glass ‘– if he wasn’t already dead.’
‘Sorry? He’s what? For a moment there you said …’ For the first time since they’d sat down she actually had Sam’s attention. All of it. ‘Jesus, you did, didn’t you?’ There was silence for a moment, while Sam peered into her glass as if for inspiration, which, when it came, just had to have been alcohol-induced. ‘Shit, he didn’t – you know, die in the middle of …?’
‘Sorry, it’s just I once saw this film where the guy had a heart attack while he was …’
‘Sam, will you shut up? I’m so glad my mind doesn’t work like yours, it must be scary.’
‘You don’t mean someone …?’
‘I wish.’ Roisin grimaced and took a good gulp from her own glass, which did more than hit the spot, it almost annihilated it. ‘Well, no, I don’t even wish, though it would make it easier.’ She spluttered as the scotch burnt its way down her throat, leaving it dry. No, she couldn’t wish him actually dead, even if she was drunk, which was a bit of a bummer. ‘No, it was just a heart attack, probably too much excitement.’ She swirled the remaining liquid, watching it crawl up the edge of the glass.
‘Wow.’ Sam gaped at her for a moment. ‘You don’t mean …? There wasn’t more than one, was there?’ Her gaze had switched back to the laptop, which was doing its best to illuminate the whole room.
‘Oh yeah, there was more than one.’ She almost laughed; almost. Even when she was well on the way to drunk it wasn’t funny, though, not yet. Maybe in another zillion years or so. And nor had it been the slightest bit funny finding the home movie when she’d been sorting out his office; or, rather, the collection of home movies. Toby, it seemed, was quite a collector.
‘So I was almost right first time. But –’ Sam’s silences said as much as her words ‘– it’s just I wouldn’t have thought that he …’
‘Had it in him?’
‘Well, erm, you know he isn’t – he wasn’t exactly …’ Sam’s voice tailed off and she downed her drink in a kind of awed silence, still staring at the frozen image on the laptop.
Roisin had to admit it was kind of mesmerising, seeing him in glorious Technicolor with a look of uninhibited pleasure on his face. Mesmerising and weird because it just wasn’t – well, it wasn’t Toby. The Toby she knew hadn’t exactly been stud material; he wasn’t hot, or even lukewarm, not even by her standards, which Sam assured her were pretty low. Toby had just been Toby: normal, slightly boring, slightly pompous Toby. Her husband.