|Название||Little Secrets: Unexpectedly Pregnant|
|Автор произведения||Joss Wood|
|Жанр||Современные любовные романы|
|Издательство||Современные любовные романы|
Will a baby on the way reunite ex-lovers?
Three years after Tyce Latimore let Sage Ballantyne walk away, they end up back where they started—in bed. Now she’s carrying his child...and there’s no way he’s losing her again.
Tyce is tempting. Dangerous. Addictive. Sage left him for all the right reasons. But one passionate mistake could reunite her with the world-famous artist for all the wrong ones. A baby on the way ups the ante. So does an explosive secret that threatens their two families and could shatter Sage and Tyce’s precarious reunion...
Sage called his name again. He lifted his head and looked at her with those intensely dark, pain-filled eyes.
“Take my offer to walk away. This child will be raised a Ballantyne—no one will ever have to know that he, or she, is yours. I’m giving you permission to forget about this conversation.”
Something flashed in Tyce’s eyes. Sage tried to ignore him as he stepped up to walk beside her, a silent, brooding, sexy mass of muscle.
“We’re not done discussing this, Sage,” he said, his voice a low growl.
“We really are, Tyce.” Sage forced the words through her tight lips. “Don’t contact me again. We are over.”
“Yeah, you can think that,” Tyce said, standing up. “But you’d be wrong.”
* * *
Little Secrets: Unexpectedly Pregnant
is part of the Little Secrets series:
Untamed passion, unexpected pregnancy…
Little Secrets: Unexpectedly Pregnant
JOSS WOOD loves books and traveling—especially to the wild places of southern Africa. She has the domestic skills of a potted plant and drinks far too much coffee.
Joss has written for Mills & Boon KISS, Mills & Boon Presents and, most recently, the Mills & Boon Desire line. After a career in business, she now writes full-time. Joss is a member of the Romance Writers of America and Romance Writers of South Africa.
“Why does this sculpture make me think of hot, amazing, fantastic sex?”
Sage Ballantyne looked at the woman she hoped would become her sister-in-law, but didn’t reply to her outrageous statement. Tyce Latimore’s work, whether it was an oil painting or a wood-and-steel sculpture, always elicited a strong reaction. He was one of the best artists of his generation. Of many generations.
Thank God he was also the only artist of his generation who refused to attend his opening nights. If there had been even the slightest chance he might appear, then Sage would’ve stayed away.
Sage flicked her eyes over the abstract six-foot-high sculpture. It was unusual and very unlike Tyce’s normally fluid lines.
“There isn’t a curve in sight but it screams passion and lust,” Piper said.
Sage’s eyebrows lifted. “I’m not seeing what you are.”
Piper pulled Sage to stand next to her.
“Try this perspective,” Piper suggested, her cheeks tinged with pink.
Sage laughed at Piper’s embarrassment and turned back to look at the sculpture. Actually, from this angle it did look like two people bent over a desk, and Piper was right; when you made that connection you saw the passion in the piece. This sculpture would be a talking point in his reviews. The art critics would wax eloquent about Tyce’s take on human sexuality.
Sage knew how he felt about sex; he liked it. Often and any way he could get it.
“But why the frog?” Piper asked before moving on to another display.
Every muscle in Sage’s body stiffened. Oh, no, he hadn’t. No way, no how. Not even Tyce Latimore would have the balls to...
She looked at the sculpture again and yep, there on the “desk” was a tiny, beautifully made steel frog, its surface treated so that it took on a greenish hue. In an instant Sage flashed back to three years before.
They’d arrived separately to a party, not wanting to tip off the world about their relationship—the heiress and the hot artist, professionally and personally, would be big news—and they’d spent the evening pretending not to know each other. The tension had been hot and sexy and, by the time Tyce dropped a quick suggestion in her ear that they meet in the library, she was a vibrating, hot, sticky mess of take-me-now. Within twenty seconds of slipping into the room, the door was locked, Tyce had her dress up her hips and had stripped her of her soaking thong. He’d unzipped, leaned her over the desk and he’d taken her, hard and fast, from behind.