They walked through the shadows individually. Will they emerge into the light together?
Leading a vagabond life as a curator for a traveling photography exhibit translates to a lot of bad days for Rikki Salerno. But her trouble doubles when a careless high school student shoves her into a marsh. Being rescued by teacher Sam Kerrigan should have made things better, but Rikki’s inability to confess her true identity casts a shadow over their budding affair.
When Sam refuses an overly aggressive parent’s marriage proposal, she’s determined to ruin him. Not only does she doctor photos to make it look like Sam’s behaved inappropriately in front of students, she hacks the foundation website to reveal Rikki’s true identity. Faster than the blink of a shutter, Rikki’s focus changes from pursuing her full-color future to the black and white necessity of clearing Sam’s name.
“Holy cow! Consider me seduced.” She didn’t recognize her own voice. Desire rasped through it, whispery and thick at the same time. Allowing her finger to slip from the steamy confines of his mouth, he pressed a kiss to her palm, then released his hold. She curled her hand into a fist around the kiss he’d left, hoping to hold onto the heat and lingering sensation.
“Oh, Jesus. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. It was too fast, wasn’t it? I mean, we only just met…but I thought, I mean, you seemed to want… and you didn’t say no. Christ, I’m so sorry.” Sam’s tone rattled with a misplaced apology. “I have no excuse. I’m a horndog.”
He eased her away from his chest and helped her to sit up, then pushed himself upright and scooted a respectful distance from her.
The apology in his tone and the loss of his body heat hit her like a cold slap. His words stung. He regretted kissing her. The tingly pulses zipping from her fingertip to her heart did nothing to tamp down the hurt. She hadn’t wanted him to stop. Normally the queen of snarky retorts, words failed her now.
About the Author
Gemma’s favorite desk accessories for many years were a circular wooden token, better known as a ’round tuit,’ and a slip of paper from a fortune cookie proclaiming her a lover of words; some day she’d write a book. All it took was a transfer to the United Kingdom, the lovely English springtime, and a huge dose of homesickness to write her first novel. Once it was completed and sent off with a kiss, even the rejections addressed to ‘Dear Author’ were gratifying.
After returning to America, she spent a number of years as a copywriter, dedicating her skills to making insurance and the agents who sell them sound sexy. Eventually, her full-time job as a writer interfered with her desire to be a writer full-time and she left the world of financial products behind to pursue an avocation as a romance author.