I was closing up my father's shop when the stranger locked the door behind him.
He didn't take the register. He put a piece of paper on my counter with my name on it, and told me that eleven people wanted me dead — and that one of them had been sending me white roses every Christmas since I was six.
Then he offered me the only protection his people recognize.
His name.
Cassius Roarke speaks maybe nine words a day. He was sent to end me and married me instead, and now I'm eighteen hundred miles from home, wearing a ring I sized myself, sharing a room with a man who sleeps on the floor and won't tell me why.
He thinks he's a wall standing between me and the dark.
I've started to think he's the only door I ever want to walk through.
So what happens when the wall wants to be let in?
Genre: Romantic Suspense
He didn't take the register. He put a piece of paper on my counter with my name on it, and told me that eleven people wanted me dead — and that one of them had been sending me white roses every Christmas since I was six.
Then he offered me the only protection his people recognize.
His name.
Cassius Roarke speaks maybe nine words a day. He was sent to end me and married me instead, and now I'm eighteen hundred miles from home, wearing a ring I sized myself, sharing a room with a man who sleeps on the floor and won't tell me why.
He thinks he's a wall standing between me and the dark.
I've started to think he's the only door I ever want to walk through.
So what happens when the wall wants to be let in?
Genre: Romantic Suspense
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