by Joy Avery
Flights of passion
When her engagement party is crashed by her fiancé’s mistress, Tressa Washington will do anything to escape the disastrous aftermath. Even stow away in the back of a guest’s SUV. And when she tells Roth Lexington to “just drive,” the handsome aerospace engineer does exactly that. In his snowbound mountain cabin, mutual attraction ignites a scorching affair...
Roth has three rules: never be vulnerable, always wake up alone and stay in control. Thanks to Tressa, he’s broken them all. One beautiful, sensual night becomes many, but once they leave their haven behind, mistrust and meddling exes intervene. Soon he faces a choice: watch this stunning, adventurous woman walk away or finally let his guard down. Roth will quickly learn that in order to reach the heights of love, you have to be willing to fall...
“Something clearly exists between us, Roth. Something that gives me so much peace it scares me.”
He hummed a sound that could have been interpreted as understanding or confusion, then his arms tightened around her a hint more. Was that his way of saying he felt the same way? She needed him to use words.
“Why are you afraid of me, Roth?” That was the only logical explanation. The only thing that made sense.
Roth chuckled, the smooth, sexy sound caressing her ears.
He placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head up. “Woman, do you really think I’m afraid of you?”
There was no need to be, but she replied, “Yes.”
“I’m not afraid, Tressa. Just cautious.”
“Am I a risk?”
“Yes,” he said without blinking.
Now they were getting somewhere. “Am I one worth taking?” She could tell by the way he studied her that the question had caught him off guard. Bringing her mouth within inches of his, she teased him in the same way he’d teased her earlier. “Am I a risk worth taking, Roth?”
His jaw tensed, relaxed, then tensed again. “Yeah, I think you are,” he said in a low tone of surrender.
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for purchasing Soaring on Love! Whether you’re trying one of my novels for the very first time or are already a #joyaveryromance reader, your support is everything. I appreciate each and every one of you!
Because of his past, Roth would consider himself a hard man to love. It’s a darn good thing Tressa doesn’t see it this way. Nothing can break down barriers quicker than love. Just wait and see...
I hope you enjoy Tressa and Roth’s love story just as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Until next time, HAPPY READING!
Love and light,
Joy
By the way: I love interacting with readers, so let’s connect:
www.JoyAvery.com
www.Facebook.com/AuthorJoyAvery
www.Twitter.com/AuthorJoyAvery
www.Instagram.com/AuthorJoyAvery
[email protected]
Soaring on Love
Joy Avery
Joy Avery works as a customer service assistant. By night, the North Carolina native travels to imaginary worlds—creating characters whose romantic journeys invariably end happily ever after.
Since she was a young girl growing up in Garner, Joy knew she wanted to write. Stumbling onto romance novels, she discovered her passion for love stories; instantly, she knew these were the type of stories she wanted to pen.
Joy is married with one child. When not writing, she enjoys reading, cake decorating, pretending to expertly play the piano, driving her husband insane and playing with her two dogs.
Books by Joy Avery
Harlequin Kimani Romance
In the Market for Love
Soaring on Love
Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!
Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards
http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010002
Dedicated to the dream.
Acknowledgments
To everyone who made this book possible... THANK YOU!
To everyone who has supported me on this glorious journey... THANK YOU!
To my readers... THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!
A special THANK YOU to my Joyrider Street Team. You ladies are priceless!
A special, special THANK YOU to my editor Shannon Criss! You made this possible. I will forever be grateful!
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Excerpt from Playing with Seduction by Reese Ryan
Chapter 1
Roth Lexington leaned against the banister of the upper-level balcony inside The Underground Jazz House—The Underground, for short—nursing a glass of bourbon. The amber liquid had always been his drink of choice, ever since he’d taken his first sip at thirteen. “It’ll make you a man,” he’d been told. He was definitely a man, but he wasn’t sure the bourbon had anything to do with it.
Taking a swig, he savored the earthy notes. A fire flared in his chest, but it wasn’t from the whiskey. This inferno ignited from envy. With a tight jaw, he observed the partygoers below. He soaked in their laughs, their smiles, their congratulatory hugs and handshakes for the future bride and groom.
Normally, nothing soothed him like a smooth beverage and the silky sounds of jazz, but neither did much for him now. And he knew why. The reason stood several feet below him in the form of the sexiest woman in the room. Also, the guest of honor at this engagement party he’d reluctantly attended.
Tressa Washington.
Since the first time he’d laid eyes on the ravishing ER nurse several months ago in his best friend’s living room, she’d danced in his thoughts. Danced sensual moves. Provocative moves. Seductive moves. Moves that had forced him awake in a hot sweat on several occasions. In his thirty-six years, he couldn’t recall a woman ever having this kind of effect on him.
He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all.
Stunning in a fitted off-white jumpsuit, Tressa stood out among the sixty or so people in attendance. Tiny curls framed her round face, lightly touched with makeup. Though she didn’t need any makeup at all, really. That was how stunning she was.
Engulfed in conversation with a group of women, her lips—the ones he craved to leave kiss swelled and aching—curled into a smile, and those dimples he’d grown to adore pierced her chocolate-brown cheeks. His gaze burned a heated path along her voluptuous body, stopping briefly to appreciate her ample breasts. They’d fit in his grasp perfectly.
It took a real man to handle dangerous curves like hers. And as he’d stated before, he was a man.
A knot tightened in his stomach. How he’d love to suckle nipples he’d teased with his thumbs to tautness. He curtailed his thoughts when he felt a tightening in his boxers. Wearing a hard-on for the bride-to-be in the middle of her engagement party would be a shit thing to do. But dammit, he couldn’t help that Tressa turned him all the way on. He wanted her so badly he ached
. Forbidden fruit was always so damn tempting.
Loud laughter drew his attention to Tressa’s fiancé. Cyrus Williams. Even the thought of the man’s name put a sour taste in his mouth. A cornball name for a cornball. Damn he hated that man. Or more accurately, envied him. Cyrus had something he wanted—Tressa’s warm body pressed up against his.
Pushing his envy aside, Roth still got a bad vibe from this Cyrus character. He’d always been good at reading people and something about Tressa’s soon-to-be husband screamed shady. Roth blew out a heavy breath. But Cyrus was none of his business, and neither was Tressa. And if he told himself that a few more hundred times, maybe he’d actually be convinced. He slid his eyes back to her.
As if sensing his ogling, Tressa shifted in his direction. The instant their gazes locked, a lightning bolt of desire seared through him. She smiled at him in that warm, welcoming manner he’d become accustomed to. A smile like that wasn’t easily forgotten. But that was exactly what he needed to do. Forget. Forget that soul-stirring gesture and the woman donning it.
Tressa’s best friend, Vivian—his best friend Alonso’s wife—said something that drew Tressa’s attention. Tressa slid her gaze away, allowing him to breathe again. Maybe he was being absurd, but he’d got the feeling she’d regretted ending their connection just as much as he had. Yeah, absurd.
Alonso clapped him on the shoulder. “Careful. The way you’re staring at the bride could give someone the wrong idea. Namely, her soon-to-be husband.” He laughed.
She wasn’t a bride yet.
Roth and Alonso had been friends since way back. Over the years, Alonso had kept him out of so much trouble and got him into his fair share, as well. He didn’t trust many people, but he trusted Alonso with his life.
Roth continued, still coveting something he’d never have, “You know if this was back in the day, she’d be mine, right?”
Yes, it was a cocky statement but also a true one. When he was young and dumb, he would not have hesitated to pursue Tressa at full throttle, regardless of her situation. Luckily for Cyrus, he’d become a far better man than he’d once been.
Alonso chuckled. “Trust me, I know. I’m surprised you came. You sounded a little iffy when we talked earlier.”
Roth pulled his attention away from Tressa before he overheated. Taking another swig from his glass, he paused for a moment to savor the rich flavors. “Figured I’d swing by on my way out of town.”
“Out of town?”
“Headed to my place in the mountains.”
Alonso quirked a brow. “Alone?”
“That’s a good question.” Powerless against it, he sought out Tressa again. When their gazes locked, electricity—raw and powerful—slammed through him, causing a puff of air to escape. What in the hell was that? Alarm triggered his defenses, sending flares up like Fourth of July fireworks. He needed rescuing.
“You all right, man?” Alonso asked.
No, he wasn’t. He wouldn’t be all right until he’d got Tressa out of his system.
* * *
As one of the women went on and on about something, Tressa slid an inconspicuous glance to her watch—a flashy piece packed with diamonds—that Cyrus had given her as an engagement gift. He was good at giving expensive gifts. She just wished he were as generous with his time. In the past two weeks, they’d barely seen one another. As an investment banker, he should understand the importance of investing in the future, as well as in the right commodities.
She gave an occasional nod and displaced smile, just to present the illusion of listening. Will this party ever end? It’d only been an hour since her family and friends had all gathered to celebrate what should have been one of the most exciting nights of her life.
It wasn’t.
There were a number of reasons she could have rattled off as to why, but the most severe one hovered above like a sexy gargoyle watching over the city.
Roth Lexington.
Simply thinking his name made her insides flutter. Then she scolded her body for the defiant act. Plenty of times she warned her system against responding to Roth. And plenty of times it’d disobeyed her.
Don’t look at him. I repeat, do not look at him.
As if her body would choose today of all days to start listening to her. Defiant. Her brain sent her gaze to the balcony. The man was as tempting as the glowing hot-doughnut sign at Krispy Kreme. Who in the hell could resist? Definitely not her. But in this case, she had to. She was getting married.
Roth stood chatting with his best friend, Alonso. The mere sight of him pounded her insides like a sensual jackhammer against stubborn concrete. From any angle, he was gorgeous. Tall, a few inches over six feet, a body that would be the envy of any athletic trainer, skin the tone of the best imported cocoa beans and a gleaming smile that rivaled the sun. That damn smile. In a quiet setting, it could hypnotize a woman into doing reckless things. Trust her, she knew.
When Roth’s attention slid to her, she gasped from the shock of awareness that scorched her soul. He flashed a half smile. She returned the gesture, then yanked her focus away from him before she melted into a puddle of lust in the middle of her own engagement party.
Damn. Why did that man cloud her better judgment and distort her common sense? Stop it, Tressa! You’re getting married in one month. February 18, she reminded herself. But looking was okay, right? As long as she didn’t touch. She gnawed at the corner of her lip. But she had touched. Oh, God, how she wanted to touch again.
She’d never been the unfaithful type, but when Roth had pulled her into his arms and kissed her senseless, she hadn’t done a damn thing to break free. A reel of the kiss in her best friend’s kitchen played in her head. Recalling how good his mouth had felt pressed against hers caused her lips to tingle. She touched two fingers to them.
It’d been the best damn kiss she’d ever experienced in her life. They’d both agreed that what had happened had been a huge mistake and had vowed to never mention it again. But a kiss like that haunted you. It wasn’t something easily purged from your system. But, Lord, had she tried to purge it, along with this ornate desire to... To what? What did she really want from Roth?
Everything, she ruefully admitted. So why in the hell was she about to marry another man? Because Cyrus is the right choice. She eyed the gaudy diamond on her finger. So why didn’t she feel the same exhilaration when she looked at Cyrus as she did when she eyed Roth? It’ll come, she told herself. Give it time.
The air in the room grew thick, and she struggled to breathe. Was she having a panic attack? Fresh air. She needed fresh air. Weaving her way through the crowd, she escaped unseen through a side door. On the massive stone patio, she sucked in a few deep breaths. After several minutes her pounding heart returned to its normal steady beat. But she still felt as if she were plummeting.
The chill of the winter night air jarred her, making her regret not grabbing a jacket. She cradled herself in her arms to generate some heat. Closing her eyes, she appreciated the stillness of the night. But even the tranquil setting couldn’t silence her thoughts and they popped right back open, the world rushing in.
Fools rush in.
She wasn’t sure why the phrase blared at full volume in her thoughts. Fools rush in. Was she rushing into this? At thirty-four, shouldn’t she be married? Some of her friends were already married with several kids. Her mother’s voice played in her head and she smiled. If your friends jumped off a roof, would you jump, too?
No, Mommy, but... She sighed. Her biological clock was tick, tick, ticking away. She wanted kids. A houseful of germy, whiny, adorable, lovable kids. She thought about Jamison and her eyes burned with impending tears. Pushing thoughts of the boy away, she refocused.
Cyrus is a good man. An honorable man. A respectable man. So why did it feel like she was about to make the biggest mistake of her life?
“Escaping your own party?” The voice came from behind.
Tressa flinched. That was fast. Ignoring Roth as the sign—for now—she turned toward him. No man should have been allowed to look that damn good in a simple black suit. On any other man, it would have been forgettable apparel. Something told her this image would linger in her thoughts all night.
Finding her words, she said, “Um...no. Not escaping. I just needed some fresh air. So many people inside. It’s a bit stuffy. How’d you know I was out here?”
Roth leaned against the banister, crossing his legs at the ankle. “Instinct, I guess.”
Instinct, her ass. She’d felt the caress of his eyes on her all night. She may have escaped everyone else, but she hadn’t escaped his watchful eye. “And here I am, believing I’d made a clean getaway.”
“Getaway, huh? What—or who—are you running from?”
Curious eyes probed her. “No one.”
“Hmm.”
Why did that hmm sound so accusing? Roth straightened to his full height. They stood in silence for a moment, simply staring at one another. The intensity in his eyes made her knees wobble, but she refused to turn away. If he wanted to assert dominance, he’d have to find a less willful opponent.
Then he folded his arms across his chest and the move rattled her, because his biceps blossomed into cannonballs and strained against the tailored suit coat—it fit him far too well to be off-the-rack.
“So, fresh air is the only reason you’re out here?” he said.
Regrouping, Tressa said, “What other reason would there be?”
He shrugged one wide shoulder. “I don’t know. It looked like you were having some kind of anxiety attack. I came out to check on you.”
Tressa released a nervous laugh. “What? No. An anxiety attack?” She brushed his accurate words off. “No.” How was he diagnosing her with anything? He was an aerospace engineer, not a doctor. But the fact that he was concerned about her warmed her insides. “I’m fine. Like I said, it was stuffy in there. I came out—”