When her fiancé destroyed her with a “Dear Katie” letter a week before their wedding, Kate Stillman still took a vow--it would be a cold day before she gave a man anything more than one night. Free from emotional entanglements, her photography career is skyrocketing, there's the occasional hot one-night-stand, and her heart is off-limits. It's the perfect plan until a Miami getaway brings her face-to-face with Peter Barrett.
Smart and sexy guitarist Peter has been pursuing Katie with texts since she photographed his band. Now that they're reunited in the flesh, there's more than mere flirtation. He wants her. Now. Katie gives in to their sizzling chemistry, thinking a rock star will appreciate her one-night rule. Instead, Peter balks and extends an invitation for a second night of pure abandon, an offer too tempting to refuse. When they part, Katie learns how well her rule protected her heart. Time away from Peter only leaves her wanting him more. Every steamy, late-night phone call makes her wonder if she can love again. But when Peter returns and her trust is tested, Katie must overcome her past to see that love her way was never the way at all.
This book peaked at #89 in the US Kindle Store. It is a consistent seller for me!
“Maybe we could go out for dinner tonight. You know, talk about your work, my work. Other things. Whatever comes up.” He dropped his head to the side to ask for an answer. The flicker of electricity that came from his eyes suggested far more than sharing a meal.
Dammit. I filed through the reasons I shouldn't say “yes”, but none of them felt particularly compelling when confronted with Peter. He wasn't just pushing my lady buttons. He was pushing my photographer buttons, too.
But I had to be strong. Dinner with Peter would just mess me up. It didn't take much for me to get attached, especially to a guy as smart and smoking hot as him. “I’m sorry. I don't think it's a good idea.” It physically hurt to say it.
“Boyfriend?”
My stomach sank at the mere mention of the word. “Nope.”
“I don't see a ring.”
Coping with “boyfriend” was a breeze compared to the way “ring” made me feel. No, he definitely did not see a shiny platinum band with a 1.2 carat, ideal-cut diamond on my finger. Absolutely not. It no longer resided on my finger because I'd sold it and bought camera equipment to donate to a local high school. I'd considered throwing it in the East River, but in the end, I figured some good had to come from my misery.
“Nope. No ring either.”
He smiled wide. “Perfect. You're unattached.”
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Afrikaans
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Already translated.
Translated by Juliet Perie
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Italian
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Already translated.
Translated by Alice Renzi
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by Andrea Moreira
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by Johanna da Veiga
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