A past she wants to forget, a secret that will change everything and a hunky guy who should have known better.
It’s no secret that Katrina Quinn has been caught having an affair with her hunky co-star. Hounded by the press she has escaped to Yorkshire, England and the remote seclusion of Copse Cottage. It’s a house packed full of junk and memories—far too much for one woman to handle.
For odd job man Ryan Taylor, being hired to clear clutter while ogling one of Hollywood’s hottest stars seems like easy money. A good way to escape his jealous, drunken girlfriend, Eve, who seems intent on making his life a misery. But Copse Cottage is haunted with his happy past, stirring anew his longing for the girl he used to call the best in the world.
A stolen beat-up suitcase is going to change everything—secrets will be revealed, hearts will be broken all over again and the biggest mystery of all will finally be answered.
Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of domestic violence and bullying.
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At first I really did think I was hallucinating. There was probably more alcohol in my blood than was really wise for a man driving and planning a lot of heavy lifting for the day. But she didn’t move, she was still there after I blinked a few times and pushed my trolley closer.
“No way, it can’t be,” I exclaimed.
She looked up, startling blue eyes staring fixedly at me.
“Dear God, it is, it really is. Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m babbling but I can’t believe you’re here!”
A teenaged Belieber had nothing on me. I was in complete fandom meltdown.
“It is you, isn’t it? You’re Katrina Quinn, aren’t you?”
She nodded hesitantly.
“Well, bugger me. I can’t believe it. What on earth are you doing here?” I asked, mouth agog.
She didn’t answer, just stared at me and I just babbled on.
“Of course, you don’t want to tell me, it’s none of my business. Sorry, sorry. I’m just so surprised. Now, look, I’m sure you’re fed up with this kind of thing, but could I get your autograph?”
I patted my pockets, pulled out a trusty business card and a pen.
“Can you sign it to Ryan, please? That’d be cool. I don’t suppose I could have a photo with you…”
Her fingers brushed mine as I passed her the pen, and I felt like a deflating balloon, out of control and violently shrinking. Well, apart from one particular part of my body. Dear God, her touch was potent.
“No, no photo,” she stuttered.
“Of course, no worries, just thought it was worth asking, you know, to prove I’ve really met you.”
She wasn’t very talkative but that didn’t bother me. I was babbling enough myself to keep up her end of the conversation too.
“I can’t be seen in a photo with you,” she exclaimed, rudely.
“No, fair enough, fair enough.” It was incredibly early in the morning, no wonder she was blunt.
“There you go.” She pressed the card back into my hand.
Her skin was so soft and pale, her fingers warm and dainty. I imagined them around my cock for a moment then shook myself from the fantasy.
“Thanks so much.” I couldn’t meet her eye—my cock was so hard and my mind so filled with wanting to fuck her I was scared of letting her see what a pervert I was. “Really, this is awesome. I better let you get on with your shopping.”
“Yes, thanks, Ryan. Have a nice day.” Her accent was heavily American, which surprised me. I knew she’d lived in the US for a good long while but I’d imagined a Yorkshire accent would take a lot of losing!
“Thanks and bye.” I waved like a complete idiot.
She waved back and I walked away. Looking over my shoulder I noticed she was taller than I’d imagined. Her curves were no less attractive, though. Especially her arse, which was perfectly cupped in a pair of faded jeans. What I’d give to do the cupping…
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