Pamela Yaye - Love on the Rocks

Caressing her cheeks with the back of his fingers, he weakened her resolve. Then, the unthinkable. Their lips came together in a passion-filled reunion. His kiss—his sweet, gentle kiss, was like balm on her wounded heart and soothed away her deepest pain.

Desire gripped her, filled her, swallowed her whole. His lips moved beautifully, expertly over her mouth. Tangela didn’t feel as if any of this was real. They were enemies. Bitter, angry exes who couldn’t stand each other. They’d had a volatile breakup, and before last month they hadn’t laid eyes on each other in two years.

But when she felt his tongue inside her mouth, seeking her own, Tangela slanted her head to the right, hungry for more.

has a bachelor’s degree in Christian education and has been writing short stories since elementary school. Her love for African-American fiction and literature prompted her to actively pursue a career in writing romance. When she’s not reading or working on her latest novel, she’s watching basketball, cooking or planning her next vacation. Pamela lives in Calgary, Canada, with her handsome husband and adorable daughter.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Baby Justice,

I miss you and think about you every single day.

Dear Reader,

Destiny can be delayed, but never denied….

Love is a powerful drug. It can make a sister break out in song, or cause a perfectly sane man to lose his mind. And that’s exactly what happens to Warrick Carver when he spots his ex-girlfriend, Tangela Howard, at a Las Vegas costume party. Not only has she lost weight, colored her hair and squeezed into a skintight Catwoman costume, she’s sashaying around the room on the arm of another man. So what’s a rich, successful architect to do? Scheme his way back into her life, that’s what!

I hope you enjoy Tangela and Warrick’s story in Love on the Rocks, and getting the chance to catch up with Sage and Marshall from Games of the Heart. Don’t worry, you’ll be seeing other cameos from your favorite characters in the near future. I’ve revamped my Web site, and I’m running a Valentine’s Day contest, so please come visit me at www.pamelayaye.com.

Stay tuned for my next Kimani Romance, Pleasure for Two, coming out in November 2010.

Until next time,

Pamela Yaye

I dedicate this book to all of the people I love: my darling husband, Jean-Claude, and my daughter, Aysiah. My amazing parents, Daniel and Gwendolyn Odidison. My super-cool siblings, Kenneth and Bettey Odidison. And all my friends and relatives near and far.

Love on the Rocks is my seventh Kimani Press romance novel, and I’m proud to be part of such a supportive, hardworking team. Sha-Shana Crichton and Kelli Martin continue to help me create strong, engaging stories, and I’m thankful to have two fabulous sistas in my corner. May God bless you both.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Warrick Carver strode off the elevator onto the twentieth floor of Truman Enterprises. He radiated success, and his brisk gait suggested he was a man of purpose. Walking tall, he pushed open the glass door, nodding to the robust security guard keeping watch over the suites of luxury offices. Polished-looking in a wool suit and an azure tie, he approached the reception area, wearing a wide smile that crippled every woman within a one-mile radius.

Energized by the pungent aroma of Colombian coffee, he mentally reviewed his morning schedule. A budget meeting, a visit to one of the construction sites and an afternoon conference call to Japan. His head throbbed just thinking about it.

Peals of girlish laughter punctured the air. His personal assistant, Payton Ellis, and three female associates were gathered around her desk in a tight circle clucking like a band of chickens. Warrick couldn’t see what they were looking at, but it incited nods, murmurs and shrieks of delight. On any other day, he’d overlook their impromptu coffee break and make a beeline for his office, but the Human Resources manager was due any minute, and he didn’t want the overbearing warlord to catch anyone slacking off.

“Back to work, ladies.” No sense antagonizing his employees, he decided, keeping his tone light. “You can finish up your discussion at lunch.”

“Guess who’s on the cover of People magazine?” Payton asked, wearing a cheeky grin.

Shrugging nonchalantly, Warrick joked, “I don’t know. J-Lo and the twins?” Celebrity gossip didn’t interest him, but Payton made it her business to know what was happening in the lives of the rich and famous. It didn’t matter how many times he told her he didn’t care where Bono ate lunch or who Naomi Campbell had bitch-slapped, she chattered incessantly about her favorite stars as if they were her closest friends.

“You’ll never guess who it is.” Before he could even begin to think of an answer, she screamed, “It’s Tangela!”

“My Tangela?” Warrick didn’t catch his mistake until he noticed the amused expressions on the women’s faces. Coughing to hide his discomfort, he helped himself to a disposable cup and filled it with water from the cooler positioned against the wall. “Isn’t that something?” His smile was superficial. No teeth, no shine, no light. “Good for her. That’s great.”

“I’d say. She’s lost almost eighty pounds!”

“What!” Water sloshed over his cup and splashed onto the tiled floor. “That’s impossible. Tangela was never fat, she was thick and curvy and…” Images of her supple breasts, wide hips and mile-long legs flashed in his mind, derailing his thoughts. “It can’t be,” he managed, coming to. “Maybe the woman just looks like Tangela.”

Payton grunted. “You guys dated for seven years. I know what she looks like.”

Warrick considered her words. He wasn’t questioning his assistant’s intelligence, but he knew his ex-girlfriend wasn’t on the cover of some cheap tabloid. Losing eighty pounds in two years was an impossible feat. No way she’d subject herself to a strict, point-counting diet. Tangela loved food. Buying it, cooking it, eating it. Despite what health gurus and nutritionists said, she wasn’t addicted to food and would tell friends and family, “I’m not an emotional eater. I just love fried chicken!”

It’s not her, he decided, convinced his assistant had downed one too many mojitos last night during happy hour. Besides, Tangela didn’t need to lose weight. Not a single pound. She was perfect from the top of her pretty little head to the bottom of her dainty size-seven feet. “There’s no way she’d go on one of those extreme diets or—”