His Tempest
Sixteen years later Noelle Greenwood was late, as usual. With all the running around she had to do, what a time for her car to be in the shop! She shoved a few bills into the cab driver's hand, gathered her mountain of shopping bags and sprinted out of the car—straight into the solid wall of a man's chest. Everything went flying: packages, purse and her. She braced herself to hit the ground when strong arms captured her.
"Whoa." The man lifted her upright.
With a grateful smile, Noelle mumbled a quick "Thanks," and started shoving things back into the shopping bags.
"Let me help you with that, honey," his deep voice said. It was the "honey" that set her on edge. What right did he have to be acting so familiar? She wasn't his honey.
Noelle jerked her gaze toward the man. Not only was he attractive, he was hot, and he knew it. She was close enough to see the flecks of brown in his eyes, the sexy curve of his lips, the smooth nut–brown color of his skin. Reflexively she took a step back.
His smile beamed bright enough to melt ice. He wore black jeans on his long–legged, six–three frame, with a cream–colo ... read full excerpt from His Tempest ebook
