EXCERPT

Before he could ask what she meant, she’d pressed a hand to his chest, lifted onto her toes and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

Roarke froze, startled by her sudden action.

Annabel laughed. “I can’t figure out if the kiss was that bad or that good.”

“It was good. Definitely…good.” Roarke cleared his throat. He took a healthy sip of his drink. “But the other day, I’m pretty sure you were engaged, Lemon Icebox Pie.”

“You’re quite observant, Two Pies.” Something about Annabel’s mischievous smile warmed his chest. “You’re quite correct. Were being the operative word. The chauvinist formerly known as my fiancé called off the wedding.”

“If you don’t mind my saying so, Thank-God-You’re-Not-My-Sister, you seem to be taking the breakup remarkably well.”

“I’m mature that way.” Her brown eyes sparkled and she barely restrained a laugh. “That and, if I’m being honest, there was a part of me that had slowly begun to realize that I wasn’t happy in the relationship.”

“When was the wedding scheduled?”

“A few weeks from today.” All of the lightness and joviality faded. A flash of anger passed over her face.

“Well, I’m sorry. All jokes aside, I can only imagine how distressing that must be.”

She smiled at him sweetly. “Thank you, Roarke.”

There was something so enticing about hearing her utter his given name in that soft sweet voice. It made him imagine what it would be like to hear her say it again as he hovered over her.

Roarke shut his eyes briefly and tried to scrub the sound and image from his mind.

He was only in Houston for one more day, then he’d be off to Dallas again. Besides, the object of his infatuation was Ryder Currin’s daughter.

Could he possibly make his life any more complicated?

He’d lived his life in a comfortable realm that existed on the corner of sarcastic and serious. He didn’t have room in his life for gorgeous women who looked like Greek goddesses, tossed around smart-ass nicknames and randomly kissed strangers.

Besides, Sterling seemed to honestly respect his accomplishment in getting him released on house arrest. And how hard he was working to clear his name. Getting involved with his arch enemy’s daughter certainly wouldn’t score him any brownie points with the old man.

“Well, it was nice to officially meet you, Annabel.” He set his half-finished drink on the bar and wiped a hand on his tuxedo pant leg. “But I’d better check in with Angela and make sure everything is good.”

“Of course.” Annabel’s tongue glided over her full lower lip. She raked her manicured fingernails through the loosened, wavy ends of her hair, tugging it over one shoulder. “Save me a dance later?”

“I look forward to it.” Roarke turned and made his way back to the main ballroom and the table where they were seated.

He’d done the right thing walking away. Though what he’d really wanted to do was lean in and steal an unexpected kiss from her this time.

She was young. At least five years his junior. Fresh-faced and idealistic. She’d just broken up with her fiancé. His father hated hers. And he lived in Dallas while she lived in Houston.

He’d made the right decision to turn tail and run.

So why did every step he took away from Annabel Currin feel like he was walking away from the sunshine and into the cold dead of night?