By Stacey Joy Netzel
Reformed gang member Wes Carter feels Redemption, Wisconsin, is simply where to relocate his monetary enterprise for purposes greater than simply the identify. He’s prepared for a pleasant, quiet existence in small city united states. Tara Russell has made up our minds it’s time so as to add a few pleasure to her lifestyles and get a bit wild—no subject how uncomfortable it makes her or her overprotective relations. They meet on the neighborhood reasonable one hot summer time evening and notice opposites allure for the entire correct purposes. upload a splash of Sugar within the type of an incorrigible nice Dane, and it’s destined to be a good to recollect
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Extra resources for A Fair to Remember (Welcome to Redemption, Book 2)
And then the worst horror of all. ’ He used her name. In the voice that she had heard him use dozens of times—a hundred times—on that night. She had heard it said calmly, heard it said softly, heard it said huskily, seductively, passionately, demandingly. And finally, she had heard her own name used as a cry of fulfilment, as he had lost himself in her. But always, always, in that voice. Anton? She didn’t dare to speak his name aloud, fearing that she might be tempting fate by doing so. That she might turn into reality what she still fervently hoped was just a delusion, a trick of sound combining with her overactive imagination.
The sun was behind him so that she had to squint against it to see his face. But she already knew, and her heart was racing so fast that she was sure it would escape the confines of her chest. Already she couldn’t breathe and her mind was frozen in stunned horror. Perhaps it was because of that, or perhaps it was the sun dazzling her eyes, but something made her lose her grip, slip and fall. She reached for the rim of the pool, missed, and went under, still gasping for breath. Water in her ears and eyes, she didn’t hear anything, couldn’t see anything.
She would much rather have escaped to her room and stayed hidden there all night. But there was no escape. Cyril Antonakos liked a formal dinner in the evenings and he expected his family and guests to dress up for it. So she had been forced to put on the elegant peacock-blue silk dress he had told her to wear, pin her hair up into an elegant roll at the back of her head and sit down at the big wooden table to endure the worst sort of torture by food. She had no idea at all what she was supposed to be eating, only that it had as much taste and texture as stewed sawdust and that it was impossible to swallow anything because her throat seemed to have closed up completely.