Craving deeper intimacy....
Makeup artist Grace Crandall assumes her marriage is a breath away from a quiet death. An unwelcome circumstance forces her estranged husband Jack to move back in the house. Even though his hypnotic eyes and seductive hands beg her to come to him, it's not enough. She needs more.
Jack Crandall's pride is paramount and no one knows that more than he does. He craves to return to his wife's heart, and bed, again, but the divide seems impossible to bridge. And with Grace's strict no-seduction rule, he'll have to show her in another way that his love runs deeper than sex, deeper than pride, deeper than either of them know.
She only needed a couple of minutes before she faced him. Because at some point, she would have to. That was the only reason he was here: to confront her. The familiar, crippling pain seeped into her blood, but she kept her head high, her back erect. No one need know, especially Jack, how seeing him always undid her.
A moment later, a shadow was on her table, at her back. Before she could turn around, her husband was leaning over her shoulder, his mouth close to her ear. “Hello, Grace.”
She closed her eyes briefly, suppressing the need to quiver. “Jack.”
His virile, acutely familiar scent seeped into her personal space, that cleanly masculine organic soap he used interlaced with hot, healthy, confident male. She inhaled as if annoyed, breathing him in, memories flashing in the back of her mind like a rapid slide show. Her head buzzed, her limbs trembled. An instant hot mess.
Reaching for a fork, he proceeded to slice off a bite of cake, eat it, and then toss the utensil on the table. “We need to talk. Now.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the chair, taking her to the dance floor.