Private Lies. Wendy EtheringtonЧитать онлайн книгу.
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“He’s not here.”
Roxanne studied each customer in turn. Though the bar boasted several dark-haired men in conservative suits, none of them was Gage. None had his stark masculinity, his sexy—Whoa. What’s this? She focused on two men at one end of the bar.
“He’s there,” Roxanne whispered. Her body grew numb and her heart sank as her gaze locked on the familiar sculpted cheekbones and jaw.
Her friend Toni followed her gaze. “I was kind of expecting him to be with a svelte blond lover. Wait, he’s got a ponytail! And he’s smoking!”
Roxanne had noticed that, too. The sophisticated surface she saw every day had been wiped away, as if the charming man she lived with was an act and a dangerous stranger had taken his place.
He’d lied to her. What the hell was going on? In that moment of watching her fiancé acting like someone else…something inside her shifted.
Snapped.
Gage may think he’s got me fooled, she thought furiously as she rose from her chair, but this is where it ends….
Dear Reader,
Ah, bad boys. Aren’t they just sigh-inducingly wonderful?
Though this story opens with Roxanne, to me it will always be Gage’s book. This is why the book begins where it does—not with him meeting the woman of his dreams and falling in love, but after he’s already popped the question.
“This is a romance, right?” you ask.
You betcha. Just an unconventional one. Because things are not what they seem with Gage. He’s got secrets. (Psst… one really big one.)
I hope you enjoy reading about Gage and his past, his motivations and dreams. And I think you’ll find Roxanne grows into his perfect match. But in the meantime he’s got a whole lot of explaining to do….
I’d love to hear from you via my Web site: www.wendyetherington.com. Or my mailing address: P.O. Box 3016, Irmo, SC 29063.
Hope much love and laughter comes your way,
Wendy Etherington
Private Lies
Wendy Etherington
MILLS & BOON
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To my sisters, Catherine Word and Laura Gurner, for their constant love and support.
Contents
1
ROXANNE LEWIS’S HEART lurched. “It can’t be.”
Antoinette St. Clair—Toni to all who intended to stay on her good side—lifted her gaze from her plate of salmon. Her eyes filled with regret. “I’m sorry, Rox, but Gage was in the Quarter last night.”
“He’s supposed to be in Chicago.”
“He’s not.”
Tucked in the corner booth of her favorite French Quarter restaurant, away from the curious eyes of the other diners, Roxanne pushed away her nearly untouched crab Louis salad. No one ever accused Toni of being flighty—without acquiring bruises anyway. If she said she saw Gage in New Orleans, she did.
Roxanne fought against the panic fluttering in her stomach, recalling last Saturday night, when she and Gage had eaten a late dinner, when he’d slid his hand along her thigh during dessert…
“Doing what?” she asked quickly, banishing the erotic thoughts.
“Leaning against the wall outside a bar.”
Maybe he’d just come back a day early. Maybe he’d had a late business meeting. He’d had a lot of those lately. “Was he with anyone?”
“No, but he studied the crowd a lot and kept glancing at his watch.” Toni gestured with her fork. “Like he was waiting for someone.”
Someone. Not her. How many times had she wondered what he saw in her? He’d chosen her. He’d proposed to her. And, yet, insecurity lingered. There were parts of Gage he didn’t share with her. She’d tried to tell herself it didn’t matter. He showered her with affection, devotion…loyalty. Just because he was sexy as hell, smart and rich didn’t mean every woman in New Orleans was chasing him.
Only the ones between twenty and sixty.
Roxanne sipped her water and tried to pretend a lump wasn’t blocking her throat. “Do you think he could have been meeting a woman?”
“Maybe. God knows I’ve been tempted.”
Roxanne’s gaze jumped to Toni’s. “To cheat?”
Her friend grinned. “No, to jump Gage Dabon’s bones.”
“Be serious.”
The smile wiped from her face, Toni angled her head. “I am. I’m seriously pissed. Why aren’t you?”
“I am.” No, you’re not, Roxanne. You’re scared. Bone-deep scared. You knew you’d never hold him.
“Stop.” Toni tugged a strand of Roxanne’s long, corkscrew-curly red hair. “You’re quite a catch yourself, Foxy Roxy.”
Roxanne didn’t bother to deny Toni had guessed the direction of her thoughts. They’d been friends too long. “He’d be better off with someone like you,” Roxanne said. “Someone more