From the romantic suspense novel, WIDOW'S TALE which is on sale this month for .99 cents!
Outside her window, the wind died down as Serena hoisted a long sleeved t-shirt over her head. She yanked off her jeans, but left on the thick wool socks to battle the bitter cold that lurked at the foot of the bed.
Serena lifted a hand towards the lantern on the nightstand, but her fingers stopped short and retreated. Instead, she closed her eyes to shut out the dim light. Abruptly, her eyes flared, afraid of the darkness beneath her eyelids.
Alan was still alive.
She could feel it in the thunderous beating of her heart and the throbbing of her veins. Hands that clutched the quilt beneath her chin began to shake. Alan would torment her. He had already begun. Then he would come for her—and what he would do to her depended on how far over the edge he had finally gone.
Serena burrowed under the covers, and in a whirl of anguish and fear, her last conscious thought before she fell asleep were the words Brett had uttered.
Because I wanted you.
Sleep was as elusive as answers.
Brett laced his hands behind his head and studied the grid pattern on the ceiling. The moon emerged to cast a luminous design—a chaotic checkerboard on which he had no clue which piece to move next.
Listening to the subtle groans of the old house and the distant sound of the breakers, Brett dissected each noise, however minute, for traces of an enemy. Restless and besieged with thoughts of Serena, he rose and approached her door.
The rustle of the quilt told him that even in slumber Serena tossed about in distress. His fingers brushed against the wood. He could go in there. Touch her. Offer solace.
That was a bad idea.