Read on for a sneak peek at the second book in DARE author Clare Connelly‘s The Notorious Harts miniseries, Burn My Hart – out now!
*
I lift a finger to her lips, silencing her. ‘Listen.’
An idea shapes within me, almost perfect in its simplicity. We need to put a stop point on what we’re doing. It has to end soon because, while I completely trust my own ability to stick to our rules, I worry sometimes that Asha could mistake what we’re doing for more, and I don’t want that. I don’t want to hurt her. It would kill me to do that.
‘My brother’s getting married in a month. Why don’t you come to the wedding? There’ll be a bunch of great guys there, friends of ours, any of whom would be a better fit for you than Angus Fienes.’
Her eyes narrow imperceptibly. ‘And you’d seriously be okay with that?’
I shrug. ‘Why not? This has to end some time.’
I can’t fathom her expression. Her eyes are the most magnificent shade of green but they darken so they’re almost grey when she looks at me.
She considers this for a moment. ‘What about you?’
‘I’ll be happy for you.’
She’s quiet as she mulls this over. ‘And then what? Find someone else to do this with?’
‘Maybe.’ I grin but, in all honesty, the idea of sleeping with another woman holds very little appeal. Yet. I know that will come, in time. It’s just that when Asha’s in the room my libido has no room for anyone else. ‘I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.’
She pulls away from me to sip her wine. ‘You were wrong tonight.’
‘I know. It was a bit of a jerk move.’
Her eyes hold mine. ‘A bit?’
I know that look in her eyes. It pulls at me like an invisible string. ‘Can I make it up to you?’
‘What do you have in mind?’
My laugh is throaty. ‘Things that are better shown than described.’
‘Oh?’ She places the wine glass down more gently now.
‘From the minute you walked into the bar, I have been wanting to do this.’ I close the distance between us and fist her camisole, pushing it up her body quickly. She lifts her hands so I can sweep it over her head and toss it away from us. It’s a warm night but the penthouse is climate controlled, cool and comfortable.
She lifts a finger to my chest, holding me at a distance, and there’s a line between her brows. I still, waiting for her to say whatever’s on her mind, even when my body is thrumming with need.
‘You’re sure about this?’
I’m surprised to find myself hesitating, as though the words are blocked inside of me, so I grin to dispel that. ‘One more month then I’ll play Cupid myself. Deal?’
She pulls back to look at me, her eyes flashing with something I don’t recognise. ‘Deal. Now show me how sorry you are, Theo Hart.’
*
Buy Burn My Hart by Clare Connelly here!
