Maggie Pearce feels trapped in her loveless marriage to a Scottsdale stock broker. English actor and heartthrob John Harrison’s relationship with his bombshell costar isn’t everything it seems. When Maggie and John meet, sparks fly and desires ignite—but their attraction could destroy everything they’ve worked for. Is a love that appears to be destiny worth the hell they’d have to pay?
She picked up her spoon and stirred her coffee. “I know most women think Lancelot is more romantic, but it seems to me Lancelot was a cad to steal his best friend’s wife. Don’t get me wrong, Guinevere was also very much at fault, but Lancelot could have removed himself from the situation before succumbing to temptation.”
“Ah, so the moral thorn of the love triangle bothers you?”
Maggie paused for a moment, searching for the right words. “I hadn’t really considered that, but maybe it does. There are different versions, of course, but Arthur is always more complicated and noble, torn between his loves, what is right, and what he must do for the good of his people. Lancelot comes riding in, Guinevere lusts after him, they give in to their passion after only a few ‘oh we shouldn’ts’ and damn everyone else to hell. That seems pretty darn selfish to me.”
He nodded. “I see your point. I see you’re a not only a romantic, you’re a woman of principle.”
She felt her face flush again but smiled and dipped her head in acknowledgement. “I try to be.”
John leaned forward, his forearms on the table, his hands clasped. “But how should they resolve the moral dilemma? What if soul mates meet when they’re already married or committed to other people? Should they deny themselves the possibility of a lifetime of blissful connection simply because they made poor choices earlier?”
The tunnel closed in around her again, obliterating all sound but the rush of blood in her ears, erasing all vision but his dark, soulful eyes.
He’s asking me the questions I’ve been avoiding for years. But is he asking me—or himself?
“What of obligation, of doing what’s right?” she replied, unsure of her voice. “If a promise isn’t binding, what is?”
“If it was a grave error of judgment, made with a lack of mature thought? Is there not an obligation to be true to oneself?” His voice lowered slightly yet somehow reverberated in her ears. “How ‘right’ is it to live a lie?”