Riley Russell is gorgeous, smart, and successful. She also has a broken heart she’s managed to keep secret from everyone—including herself. Three years ago, she walked away from her marriage to entrepreneur Tristan Russell, believing there was no hope for the relationship. But when he reenters her life unexpectedly, Riley must fight to remain independent and in control of the life she has built.
Tristan, as handsome and accomplished as ever, is planning to get remarried, but first he must divorce Riley. To save her broken heart, Riley must confront her feelings for Tristan, his family, and his haunted ancestral house, Wolfe Haven.
Along the way, she must navigate a minefield of secrets and mysteries, including arson, betrayal, and murder. As Riley and Tristan try to find a clear path to their future, they come to grips with things that go bump in the night. If Riley isn’t careful, she may just fall prey to enemies that are closer than she thinks.
According to the author, this book contains more than two words of profanity per page and descriptive writing about sexual acts between consenting adults.
The author has rated this book R (not suitable for those 17 and under).
Lying in the Scarlet Room, I twisted and turned, trying to push back the memories. Not until the thought of Glenda and Colin’s betrayal of my trust rose in my mind did I manage to put up a barrier that I was not yet ready to pass. There was a painful comfort for me in other memories. But thinking of Glenda and what Colin had done—that was only pain. So I blocked out both of them. To think of them was to destroy my ability to live in the present, which was all I had.
The wind whispered eerily down the tower and into the corner of my room, but at length the night sounds furnished the rhythm I needed. I fell into a sleep of physical and emotional exhaustion.
I woke in the dark with a start, huddled in the bed beneath the covers, every muscle in my body instantly tense. I strained to hear. Was that really a voice whispering urgently to me? The sounds of other voices and a loud crackling filtered through the window.
Pulling down the comforter, I stared into a room that was no longer dark. A bright flare was reflected on the red canopy of the bed, and the shadow and flicker of flames moved in replica across the ceiling. I gasped. In a swirling mist at the corner of the room stood a woman with dark hair.
Closing my eyes, I lay with my heart pounding for several seconds. How did she get in here? Goose bumps crawled over my flesh. I was icy cold beneath the comforter.
No, the air was icy cold. Freezing. Imagination, I told myself. It was summer. The wind must have kicked up the monsoons, but there was no way it could be freezing in here.
I opened my eyes. A chill breeze flowed through the window that overlooked the garage and kennels. Shivering, I stumbled across the room to the window. The stable and garage were aflame, and the shouting voices were real. Tristan’s workshop was on fire, and men were there fighting to save it. Through the screen of oak trees I could see darting figures, black against the flaring light, their shadows long on the ground. The night air coming in was warm but still I shivered.
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