We’re celebrating the release of THIEF OF HEARTS by L.H. Cosway! Check out the excerpt and giveaway below!
I exhaled a breath when the door closed and then went to find a quiet spot amid the bookshelves to calm my erratic pulse. The reading had moved on to questions and answers, as Jamie held court taking questions from the attendees. A minute or two passed before I sensed movement in my peripheral vision. Judging by the faint hint of his cologne, I knew Stu had found me.
“Are you hiding?” came his deep, masculine voice and I glanced up from my place on the floor.
“Just having some ‘me’ time,” I answered and Stu’s brows rose.
“Behind the shelves of a book shop? Andrea, I didn’t peg you for the kinky type.”
“You’re an incurable smart-arse, do you know that?”
Stu smiled and dropped down beside me, his shoulder bumping mine. “Ah yes, smart-arsery runs in the family, I’m afraid. You’ve met my brother, right?”
I nodded, thinking he was definitely correct on that one. “I have.”
A moment of quiet ensued as I stared at the shelves in front of us. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Stu studying my profile, but I didn’t dare move. I felt like I was on display somehow, my every thought on view to him. Lacing my fingers in my lap, I tried not to let the quiet affect me but it was a lost cause. It wasn’t necessarily awkwardness I felt, but I was definitely uncomfortable.
“You should come meet the rest of my family,” said Stu, breaking the quiet, his eyes still on me.
Now I turned to him. “Huh?”
I know, so eloquent.
Stu reached out and began pushing my hair back behind my shoulders. I normally wore it up at work, but today it was down. “It’s Trev’s twenty-fifth today. We’re having a party at Lee’s. You should wear your hair like this more often. I like it.”
His offhanded compliment made me flush as I tried to think of the nicest way to decline the invitation. “Thank you. I can’t come to the party though. I promised Jamie I’d help him clean up after the reading,” I croaked.
Stu’s eyes told me he didn’t believe that for a second. “I’m sure he’ll manage. How messy can things get?”
I swallowed hard. “Pretty messy.”
“You’re right. I bet those history buffs leave empty beer cans and cigarette butts everywhere,” Stu quietly teased, his hands still on my hair as he groomed me. The feeling was heavenly, probably because nobody ever touched me like this. I couldn’t help sinking into the touch.
A smile curved my lips. “It’s true. They go a little wild after they’ve gotten their books signed.”
Stu moved ever closer, his mouth at my ear as he whispered, “Do you know what I think, Andrea?”
Goosebumps marked my skin as his breath washed over me. “What?” I replied, so quietly I was surprised he heard.
“I think you’re a dirty little liar.”
He startled a gasp out of me when he tongued my earlobe into his mouth and gently sucked.
I should have pushed him away, jumped to my feet, proclaimed my indignation. But I did none of those things. Couldn’t do any of those things. Instead I sat there, eyes closed and frozen to the spot as I sank into him and he continued to do magical things with his tongue.
Breaking away, he murmured, “I like you. Come to the party.”
“O-okay,” I breathed. What the hell? I hadn’t meant to say that. It just slipped out, my body running ahead of my mind. For the first time in years I felt unchained from my inner worries, and all because Stu Cross had slipped his tongue in my ear.
Figure that one out, because for the life of me, I couldn’t.
L.H. Cosway lives in Dublin, Ireland. Her inspiration to write comes from music. Her favourite things in life include writing stories, vintage clothing, dark cabaret music, food, musical comedy, and of course, books. She thinks that imperfect people are the most interesting kind. They tell the best stories. L.H. is represented by Louise Fury at The Bent Agency.
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