“There’s something different about the way Quint looks at me,” Meg said.
“Like what?” Evan asked.
The chimes above the door rang to signal a customer’s arrival. She stared at the man walking into her shop. It was Quint. At least she thought he was Quint.
“Like that,” she said, more to herself than to Evan.
The man who entered her shop looked like Quint; he had the same dark hair, the same sharp features, the same fiery blue eyes, and the same six-foot muscular build that came from years of working construction. His deep, hard gaze never left her as he walked past the shelves of books toward her, his body moving with his familiar gait. Yes, he was her husband.
His gaze caressed her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, undressing her with his eyes, seeing into the deep ocean of her soul. He looked like he wanted to devour her.
He held her bound with his unyielding look, and her heart pounded in her chest.
His expression was hungry, but his eyes said so much more. There was a look of excitement, as well as an anxious bearing of waiting, wanting, knowing. His dark twilight eyes lit with a savage, proud, inner fire that all but reached out and held her in place, a look that saw right into her, and read all her thoughts, her dreams, and her desires.
She felt her husband’s allure, like the heat of a fire on a cold night. It bound her, snatching the breath from her lungs. He was her husband, the same man she’d vowed to love, honor, and cherish for the rest of her life.
He’d changed, but she couldn’t figure out why that caused her blood to rush through her as if she’d just met his gaze from across a crowded room.
For a long moment, uncertainty held her tongue. She ached to move closer to him, as something about him commanded her to do.
Or should she run in the other direction?
Then his kiss captured her attention. His lips were hard and urgent, filled with need and longing.
His mouth, warm and perfect, sent a burning tingle of longing through her. He could have just as easily reached in to her chest and squeezed her heart in the palm of his hand.
This could not be her husband. Her husband never believed in public displays of affection.
Her senses whirled with the taste of mint and Quint, leaving her knees weak, and her soul uncertain.
Public or not, how long had it been since he’d kissed her with such overwhelming passion? She couldn’t remember. Never? She broke away.
Quint let her break the breath-stealing kiss. “I thought we could have lunch and celebrate tonight’s grand opening. Alone.”
“Where?” She forced in a breath.
“At home, in our bed.” He whispered, his breath hot and sensual against her ear.
About the Author
Allie Harrison lives with her husband in Southern Illinois. By day, Allie works in the medical field, but when she clocks out, she hits the keyboard, crafting stories readers will love. When she isn’t enjoying fun family time, games with friends, reading, crafts, music, camping, biking, and hiking, she’s working to build fictional worlds and unforgettable characters.