The Desert King's Pregnant Bride
Maggie bowed her head against the sheets of icy rain as she plodded along the muddy road.
Slick fabric stuck to her where she'd forgotten to do up her raincoat. Water sluiced down her legs, into her wellington boots. Her hair, so carefully washed and dried, now hung in saturated rat-tails against her neck. Vaguely she was aware of the chill numbing her body. After running, stumbling, then trudging so far in the lashing darkness, her steps slowed, became unsteady.
If she'd been thinking clearly, she'd have taken her battered Jeep. That hadn't occurred to her. One look between the carelessly drawn curtains of Marcus's sitting room and coherent thought had fled.
She'd stood, rooted to the spot, heedless of the drenching rain. When her brain had finally caught up with the message her eyes had conveyed, she'd simply run. She must have raced past her car into the welcoming blackness.
Pain tore at her throat as she sobbed in a deep racking breath. She had to get home, before the emotions churning inside overcame her.
Yet she couldn't escape the memory of what she'd seen: Marcus, naked in the arms of his lover.
Now she understood why he'd blown hot and cold, ... read full excerpt from: The Desert King's Pregnant Bride ebook
