Rachel Lee - Snowstorm Confessions

The world looked like a snow globe.

She’d opened the drapes and turned out the lights to give him a view of the falling snow. Then she stood beside him. Luke should have thought it through, but he didn’t. He grasped her hand, and his heart thudded when she didn’t pull away.

He wished he could find out if her lips were as sweet as he remembered, if her curves were as soft.

But she astonished him by saying, “I want to hate you.”

“I thought you already did.”

“I did. But now I don’t, and I want to again.”

“Why?”

She leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. Not a tentative kiss, but the kiss of a lover who knows her man.

“I shouldn’t …” she whispered.

“But I want it, too.”

“That’s exactly what’s wrong,” she said. “Sex between us was always good. Everything else was the problem.”

“We could talk about it, Bri.”

“Why? It’s over.”

“Not quite.” Then he drew her into a deep, hungry kiss.

Conard County:The Next Generation!

www.millsandboon.co.uk

RACHEL LEEwas hooked on writing by the age of twelve and practiced her craft as she moved from place to place all over the United States. This New York Times bestselling author now resides in Florida and has the joy of writing full-time.

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To Allison Carroll, for her infinite patience and kindness

Contents

Cover

Excerpt The world looked like a snow globe. She’d opened the drapes and turned out the lights to give him a view of the falling snow. Then she stood beside him. Luke should have thought it through, but he didn’t. He grasped her hand, and his heart thudded when she didn’t pull away. He wished he could find out if her lips were as sweet as he remembered, if her curves were as soft. But she astonished him by saying, “I want to hate you.” “I thought you already did.” “I did. But now I don’t, and I want to again.” “Why?” She leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. Not a tentative kiss, but the kiss of a lover who knows her man. “I shouldn’t …” she whispered. “But I want it, too.” “That’s exactly what’s wrong,” she said. “Sex between us was always good. Everything else was the problem.” “We could talk about it, Bri.” “Why? It’s over.” “Not quite.” Then he drew her into a deep, hungry kiss. Conard County: The Next Generation!

Title Page Snowstorm Confessions Rachel Lee www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author RACHEL LEE was hooked on writing by the age of twelve and practiced her craft as she moved from place to place all over the United States. This New York Times bestselling author now resides in Florida and has the joy of writing full-time.

Dedication To Allison Carroll, for her infinite patience and kindness

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

“Luke!”

Brianna Cole stared, stunned, at the last man on earth she expected to see standing at her front door. Icy winter air, defying the spring season, swirled around her, but she hardly noticed. Luke Masters, her ex-husband, stood there with smiling gray eyes she remembered all too well. His thick parka hung open despite the cold, showing her he still pretty much dressed like a lumberjack: plaid wool shirt, jeans and work boots. Why wasn’t he back at their old place in Chicago? What was he doing in Conard County?

“Hi, Bri,” he said pleasantly enough.

“What are you doing here?” Shock rapidly gave way to a sick feeling, an urge to deny what she was seeing and a swamp of memories she never wanted to think about again. How dare he?

“Well, I’m on a project. I’ll be around for a few weeks, and I thought it would be better for you to find out this way. Besides, I thought we might catch up.”

Catch up? The idea astonished her. They had parted three years ago for a lot of very good reasons. Well, they’d started parting ways before that, but the divorce had been finalized three years ago. Unfortunately, finalizing a divorce didn’t end the pain. “Why?”

“Because there was a time we used to be best friends.”

What kind of excuse was that? she wondered. Suddenly becoming aware of the frigid air, she realized she had to close the door. Either invite him in or send him on his way, but as she heard her heat kick on, she considered more practical matters. Thinking of the heat at least interrupted the emotional tsunami the sight of him had caused. “Come in,” she said irritably. “But don’t get comfortable.”

He didn’t comment on her ungracious invitation, merely stamped his feet a couple times to shake off any remaining snow, then stepped inside.

She closed the door behind him. The chill from outside seemed to reach her and she hugged herself, rubbing her arms. The forced-air heat blasted away but didn’t seem to warm her.

He looked good, from what she could see. Time hadn’t changed him one bit, not even adding threads of gray to his dark hair. Bitterness filled her mouth. She’d always suspected that their divorce hadn’t troubled him as much as it had her. He looked fit, healthy and as self-assured as ever. On the other hand, upset had cost her ten pounds she hadn’t been able to put back on, and sleepless nights had made her look like a raccoon for over a year. “This is wrong,” she said. “On so many levels.”

“Why? We used to be married. I’m in town. I just wanted a few minutes to see how you’re doing.”

“Right.” She pointed to her shabby living room and told him to sit wherever. Then, because she was cold, she went to get some coffee. Then, because she wasn’t naturally rude, she poured a mug for him.

Ten minutes, she thought. I can handle this for ten minutes. That didn’t make her feel any better. All of a sudden she was staring into a yawning abyss of old pain and desire she didn’t want to freshen.

Squaring her shoulders, she walked back to the man who had twisted her heart into knots and then torn it apart.

She hoped she wasn’t being stupid.

* * *

The night outside began to sprinkle big white flakes of snow, just a dusting, but the flakes glittered like jewels under the streetlights. Spring was late this year.

Jack Milkin stood three doors down from Brianna’s house. He liked Brianna. She was one of the few people who seemed to go out of her way to notice him and be nice to him. Mostly he felt invisible, but not when she was around. He’d been interested in her for a long time, but was always reluctant to ask her out. He knew she didn’t date much. There’d been a few guys she had gone out with but it never lasted.

Jack figured he could make it last if she would just let him try.

So he’d been trying to learn everything he could about her so he could please her. Soon, he had promised himself, he would ask her out for a movie or dinner. Some safe little date. If she said yes, then he’d set about proving just how good he could be for her. If she didn’t say yes, well, he’d find another way.