She won’t go down without a fight…and he’s looking forward to it.
Harper left the world famous solo artist, Judd Hart, over a year ago. No matter how much she cared for him, their worlds were miles apart. All they shared was great sex and the ability to drive each other crazy. So why is she at his concert, drooling over the sound of his delicious voice, when she’s spent months convincing herself they can never work?
She lives in Australia with a young family who are well aware she’s circling the drain of insanity.
Eden can’t resist alpha dominance, dark features and sarcasm in her fictional heroes and loves a strong heroine who knows when to bite her tongue but also serves retribution with a feminine smile on her face.
“God, you’re beautiful when you’re mad.”
He wouldn’t have thought those eyes could glare with more ferocity. He was wrong. She glanced at the table beside her, then scoured the rest of the room with her gaze.
“There’s nothing left to throw.”
She raised a brow as if accepting a challenge and gripped the back of the wooden chair, lifting two legs off the ground. “Why am I here?”
“I was going to ask the same thing.” He couldn’t contain his smile. Fuck, he enjoyed this woman. She revived him. Energized him. Even after a two hour performance. “I would’ve thought my concert was the last place you’d want to be on a Friday night.” His smile crept into a smirk as the devil sparked in her eyes. “I guess I’m still hard to resist.”
She huffed as she raised the chair and launched it haphazardly in his direction. All it took was a slide to the left to miss the trajectory.
The last thing any sane man would do is laugh, but this was what he loved about Harper. She didn’t take any shit. Instead, she gave it out in truckloads. She was a spark of life amongst the dreary yes-men and placating groupies he was surrounded by.
“Have you got that out of your system?”
Her gaze narrowed. “Are your goons going to let me go home?”
“Not until I tell them to.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, plumping up her breasts in the loose charcoal T-shirt. She definitely was beautiful when angry; she was also more alluring than he remembered. Her eyes were a deeper blue, vibrant and hypnotizing. And her mouth…those dark, plump lips would be the death of him.
“Well, I guess I need to find a better weapon.” She turned back to the counter, gripped it with both hands and hung her head with a sigh.
There were red marks on her wrist. Three specific impressions that looked like finger marks.
“What the hell are they?” He bridged the distance between them in four steps, and took her elbow in his hands.
She turned into him, her eyes wide. “Back off.”
“Who did this?”
“Who do you think?” She tugged her arm from his grip. “Your henchman thought I was a meek, vulnerable female and tried to manhandle me.”
His heart crept into his throat, climbing higher with his fury. “The guy you sank your teeth into?”
“Yeah.” Her smile was smug. “He tasted like chicken.”