Title: Everything She Ever Wanted
Author: Liz Durano
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Expected Release Date: Oct. 18th, 2016
Hosted by: Lady Amberâs PR
Her perfectly planned life fell apartâ¦
When her husband leaves her for a younger woman, transplant surgeon Harlow James finds herself alone at forty, without family and a career thatâs falling apart at the seams. So she hits the open road and ends up in Taos, New Mexico where she hopes to find out where her life went wrongâ¦
â¦or just end it all.
But when master craftsman Dax Drexel unexpectedly shows up at her doorstep, Harlow finds herself with the perfect distraction. For Dax is everything she never thought sheâd want in a man - rough around the edges and way too young.
But he may also be the one man who can give her everything sheâs always wanted.
Though Liz studied journalism in college, she discovered that she preferred writing romantic fiction over news and ad copy. She lives in Southern California with her family where she spends her days writing, chasing after her 6-year old, and stepping over Legos.
Lizâs Reader Group: http://facebook.com/librarycafereadergroup
But thanks to rational me ruining all the fun, Dax is keeping true to whatever we talked aboutâor rather, what I talked aboutâthat he stay on his side of the Pearl and I stay in mineâ¦ well, sort of. I hate having set boundaries because now I know that if anyone is going to break them, itâll be me.
By the time Iâm in the kitchen brewing coffee, I feel itâthat jittery feeling that has now invaded my chest with my heart thatâs beating so fast I can almost feel the blood coursing through my temples. I fill two earthenware mugs with coffee and take a deep breath.
You brushed your teeth, washed your face and mussed up your hair. Youâll be fine. Now go bring him coffee and say hi.
I see Dax before he sees me, but I donât say anything. As far as Iâm concerned, the last three days spent with him are equivalent to the sum of a lengthy foreplay and right now, Iâm on fire. Iâm just glad that heâs too busy to notice me as I stand awkwardly by the door, acting as calmly as I can although inside, Iâm bouncing all over the place.
What is wrong with me?
Dax is pulling something that looks like a wood planer though he uses it differently, pulling it towards him instead of away from him, the way Iâve seen carpenters do it. Instead of short slivers of wood, I see a paper-thin strip unfurl from it gracefully before Dax flicks it away before bringing the planer back to the opposite end of the board. Then he does it all over again.
Through his thin white shirt, I see his muscles tense with every movement. I could name them all if I wanted toâlatissimus dorsi, triceps brachii, deltoid, infraspinatus and teres majorâbut I want to do more than that. I want to touch them all, run my fingers over them and feel them ripple beneath my skin. And I wonât stop there. I want my hands to move lower down his back, feel my fingers rake against his smooth tanned skin. I wantâ
Suddenly Dax stops whatever heâs doing, straightens his back and turns to look at me.
âGood morning, Harlow.â
âHi,â I stammer, hoping my face doesnât betray my thoughts. âIâ¦ I brought you coffee.â
âThanks,â he says, and thatâs when I see that heâs brought a Thermos with him, and I feel like an idiot. Of course, the boy scout would bring his own coffee. I made the rules, didnât I? I wasnât going to entertain him, nor he entertain me.
âIâm sorry. I didnât realize you brought your own,â I turn around before he can say anything but Dax is a fast mover. Suddenly heâs standing in front of me, and he takes one of the mugs from my hand.
âThank you,â he says, his gaze moving from my face down to my lips, and then the front of my robe. I didnât even bother to get dressed. And why would I? I donât want to get dressed, not with this man standing so close to me, his cologne and that man-smell of his sending my hormones into overdrive. I lick my lips.
âDid I wake you?â he asks as he sets the mug down on the table next to us.
I shake my head, keeping my eyes on his mouth. âNo, I didnât even realize you were here until after I was, um, making coffee in the kitchen.â Liar. And where else would you make coffee anyway? âSo I thought, maybeâ¦â
Dax takes the other mug from my other hand and sets it down. I donât even protest. I donât know if I still have itâwhatever it is that men wantâbut a part of me wants to find out. I want to know if itâs all my imagination, the way he looks at me, and how his gaze travels from my eyes to my lips, lingering there before moving downwards. I want to see that bulge in his jeans, reminding me that Iâm still attractive, beautiful even.
âHarlowâ¦â he murmurs, and I feel his fingers pushing an errant lock of hair from my face. He dips his head, and now Iâm looking at his eyes. Blue and so intense. My heart beats so loud I can almost hear it echoing throughout the room.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
I stifle a moan and press my thighs together, feeling the heat rise to my chest. I bite my lower lip this time and let my gaze move down, and I exhale triumphantly. Heâs hard, and heâsâ
âThereâs someone at the door,â he says, the words snapping me back to the present.
Then I hear it. Someone is at the door.