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Book Description
The proof of their passion: she’s carrying the Sicilian’s child! Read this thrilling secret baby romance from Lela May Wight.
When their worlds collided…
They became tied forever!
Flora Bick once strayed from her carefully scripted life and lost herself in the uninhibited kisses of a stranger. Overwhelmed, she fled his bed and returned to her risk-free existence. Now, he’s found her and together they discover the unimaginable—she’s pregnant!
Demanding Flora accompany him to Sicily, Raffaele Russo finally reveals his vast wealth—and his determination to give their child the stable upbringing he never had. But for the time being, their secret remains theirs alone, and it will bind them even closer than their ever-present desire…
From Harlequin Presents: Escape to exotic locations where passion knows no bounds.
Extract And Extra Info
Introduction to book & characters:
Raffaele and Flora’s love story and journey to a happily ever after is a road full of tearing down the walls they’ve built around themselves...
Flora has lived a sheltered life, and a night in London opens her world to a whole new host of feelings and revelations!
Raffaele is a mountain! A one-man band in charge of protecting everything and everyone. Until he meets Flora, and she is resolved to show him he can let down the security fences, all the alarms he has in place, and let someone else protect him.
Tropes and themes!
*Never been kissed
*Cinderella
*Tortured hero
*One Night with Consequences
*Surprise baby
Introduction to scene:
This scene has been chosen because I believe (hope) it shows the magic of connection! The undeniable recognition, not only of desire, but the need to connect with another human being on an instinctual level and the flooring intensity of what it means to be human.
In this scene, Raffaele and Flora are in conflicted headspaces when fate decides to thrust their worlds together.
Our worlds can often come crashing around our ears and plummet us (humans) into a spiralling darkness, but the darkness only exists because there is light.
I hope you enjoy Raffaele and Flora finding light in the shadows, and the surrender to connect to another human, rawly and honestly.
And, if you need the reminder, I hope you take away from this scene, light can be found in the darkest of places. Sometimes all you need to do is look, and reach out, to claim it.
Enjoy! Xxx
Extract:
Raffaele lifted his hand to flick on the floodlights and then hesitated.
She couldn’t see him. Outside, where she stood, she would see nothing but a wall. A darkness. Cleverly designed glass let those inside look out, but those beyond wouldn’t be aware of their existence.
His existence.
But the shadows would disappear in the light.
She’d turned her back to him, was stalking to the iron and brick balcony. Her spine was prominent, and it called to him. The need to trail his fingers along it was instant. To tilt his head. Kiss—
Kiss?
She was a trespasser.
A trespasser on his grief.
And trespassers needed to be caught.
Her hair was caught in a wild gust of wind. It danced around her shoulders. She raised her arms high and wide beside her, lifting her face to the night sky and leaning over the edge.
He forgot to breathe.
Was this a test?
Was she a messenger, sent to remind him how completely he’d failed his mother? His mother had chosen a roof. His mother had leapt to her fate.
His palm met a square silver panel on the wall. The glass shifted soundlessly to create a door.
She remained still. Standing on the edge. Protected only from falling by a waist-high iron-wrapped wall. Her arms were still outstretched, her face tilted as if she were an offering to the city. To the gods...
An offering for you? For redemption?
Raffaele moved towards her, prompted by the tug of his gut. He couldn’t see her face. An inappropriate urge stormed through him to see her eyes, to look into them, to be close enough to do that.
He caught her wrist. She turned.
His breath hitched. Big brown eyes met his. His pulse slowed. He searched her gaze, watching the golden flecks in her left eye burn with something primal. Something achingly close to recognition.
But he didn’t know her.
He would remember those eyes...
The delicate warmth from her body hit him. It was a caress against his prickling skin. An awareness of her femininity. The male in him responded without his permission. A low heat gathered in his gut, arrowing down to his groin. Mocking him with the ease with which his body was reacting to a familiarity that didn’t belong to him.
But the air between them pulsed... throbbed.
He dragged his gaze from hers. Moved it down to where his fingers encased her small wrist. It was her pulse. That throb. It pounded beneath his thumb. And the urge to swipe his thumb against it was so clear, so overwhelming, it consumed him.
So he did it, before he could tell himself not to. He stroked against her skin. Soft. Warm. Delicate. But her pulse wasn’t. It pounded. Fierce. Strong.
His eyes shot back to her face. The lights of London’s skyline flickered around her head like a halo.
‘Are you real?’
It was the most delicate of whispers. It tingled across his skin, snapping him out of the haze that had fallen over him since the inquest. Clearing the fog that had travelled with him since his mamma’s death and plunging him straight into the depths of her eyes.
‘Of course I am.’ He straightened, wanting to drop her wrist but unable to will his fingers to release her. ‘Are you?’ she asked.
She blinked up at him, lashes fluttering rapidly. He wanted to count them. Wanted to know exactly how many dark strands it took to create such appealing shadows on her high cheekbones...
He did not ever notice a woman’s eyelashes.
He stilled. His jaw hardened.
He was not himself.
‘Am I asleep?’ he asked, cursing his lack of control over his tongue. This moment was too surreal. Too... something...
‘Only if I am too,’ she said, bringing his attention to a bottom lip so sinful, so plump, his urge was to take it between his teeth and test its fullness.
What was wrong with him?
‘And are you?’ he asked.
He was hoping. But he didn’t know what for. He hadn’t slept for weeks. A sleep-deprived mind could conjure many things.
A vision.
A mirage of creamy flesh laced in green silk.
A woman with a too-wide mouth. Too delicate. Too soft. Too kissable.
‘No,’ she replied, with a gentle shake of her head. ‘I’m awake.’
Author Bio
Lela May Wight grew up with seven brothers and sisters. Yes, it was noisy, and she often found escape in romance books. She still does, but now she gets to write them too! She hopes to offer readers the same escapism when the world is a little too loud.
Lela May lives in the UK with her sons and her very own hero, who never complains about her book addiction - he buys her more books! Check out what she’s up to at lelamaywight.com.
Social Media Links
Website: www.lelamaywight.com
Purchase Links
UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Bound-Sicilian-Secret-Mills-Modern-ebook/dp/B0BCW714KP
US - https://www.amazon.com/Bound-Sicilian-Secret-Lela-Wight-ebook/dp/B0B7S659CD
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