Author: Monica David
Series: Braids Series (#1)
Genre: Erotic Romance
Release Date: May 27 2015
Edition/Formats: eBook & Print
What if your perfectly contented life was suddenly turned upside down and you were forced to face a decision you never imagined you’d have to?
Ariane Reis has a husband who loves her, a young son and a cosy family routine.
When she starts a new job in the heart of London, she has no idea she is about to embark on a scorching sensory journey of eroticism and self-discovery that will irrevocably alter her life.
Luka Volkov is a smart and unnervingly intense Russian on her team. He is young, sharp and insatiable. He doesn’t just seduce her body. He seduces her mind and the very essence of her being.
Despite the emotional angst she finds herself in, Ariane must fight to get through the impossible task of untangling love from lust, or risk losing everything she holds dear. The problem is - not everything is black and white.
A story both delightful and heartbreaking about regular people in unanticipated circumstances.
Monica David was born in Zimbabwe but she grew up in Portugal, by the sea. She has been living in London for nearly two decades, initially on and off in between travels and now permanently with her family. In addition to writing, Monica loves to read, photograph and travel. She values kindness, honesty and a good sense of humour.
“Should I turn around?”
Silence and Moby. The minutes tick away. Nothing. My hands seem to have taken on a life of their own and can’t stop wriggling behind me.
“Luka, do you just want me to stand here?”
“What I wanted, you didn’t do.”
“I thought ... I thought this looked better.”
“Better for whom?” His voice is wooden.
“For ... For both of us.”
Only Moby answers in what sounds like some kind of Indian chant.
What the hell am I supposed to do? I feel like a kid who’s just been told off and I’m not remotely excited anymore. I’m irritated. I close the shirt in front of me and turn to him. He’s sitting with no shoes or socks on, legs open, hands hanging over the edge of the arms of the chair, like he’s on a throne and I’m here to serve him. To my frustration, he looks devastatingly sexy.
“Luka, stop treating me like a child. I just ... I just feel more comfortable wearing this.”
“Take it off.”
“Come and take it off yourself.”
Moby hums. Luka doesn’t move a muscle. His eyes pierce through me for a painful eternity, but I refuse to back down.
Then I see him, more than hear him, sigh and shake his head.
“You have an issue with your body.”
WHAM! There are moments in one’s life which we know instinctively we will never forget. This is one of mine. The whole of me turns an angry kind of red, my expression shocked but irrefutable, my focus suddenly drawn to my burgundy toenails. I want to speak but sound claws into my throat and refuses to let go. The pink elephant becomes abruptly and unequivocally visible. What can I say? Who the hell wouldn’t, in my shoes? Ex top models?
Solid silence. Fuck this.
“If that’s how you want it.” I stride over to the wall, next to which my stuff lies, without casting Luka a single glance. He doesn’t stop me. I don’t need this shit!
I grab my things and resolutely make my way towards the door, ass peeking out from under the shirt and all. Only when my hand touches the door handle does he speak. “Don’t open that door.”
I freeze, chagrin churning my stomach.
“I don’t want you to go.” His voice seems calmer, deeper.
Maybe I should just go.
I hear him getting up and soon feel his strong hands on my upper arms, easing me to him. He gently kisses the top of my head then nuzzles my hair and draws me into his lungs. My heart races like the heavy wheels of a train at full speed. My face positively burns.
“We need to sort this out,” he murmurs, as if we’re discussing a punctured tyre. What’s that supposed to mean? “Will you trust me?”
Oh God no, no more of that trust crap. Silence. This is my chance to leave and hide, to run home and wait for Sean who loves me, Sean who knows me, Sean who wouldn’t dream of uttering words like ‘body issues’ because he respects me, but the chimera in me prevents self-preservation from kicking in. I close my eyes and breathe. I can’t make out one word of this song, yet the voice seems to pacify me. My resolve abandons me without so much as a goodbye. Damned white rabbit!
“Yes,” I hear myself hissing.
Luka slides his hand down my right arm and his fingers entwine with mine. There is something so compelling about his touch that I immediately know I’m at his complete mercy.