Her Lover's Face | Sample Only

Prologue

Just a word of caution. This novel does contain mild language and sexual scenes, which may not be suitable for younger readers.

Freedom. The word played in her head like sweet music on the radio. She stared at his coffin as the pallbearers lowered it into the waiting grave. It landed on the ground with a dull thud. She cringed, unable to take her eyes off the wooden casket. Expecting, at any moment, for her husband to shove back the lid and pull her into the grave with him.

Relax, Laryssa, he's dead.

She searched her heart for any feelings whatsoever for the man she'd been married to for seven years, but none surfaced. Aidan had put her through living hell. That's why when the coroner went to give her his personal belongings, the first words out of her mouth were, 'bury them with him.' The man's jaw dropped and he'd simply stared at her.

She yanked off her wedding ring and dropped it onto the casket. Whispers could be heard behind her, but she didn't care. From her pocket, she pulled the divorce documents, which were drawn up earlier that month, and dropped them into the grave. She never did find the courage to tell him she wanted a divorce, not while the bruises on her back were still healing.

The positive pregnancy test, she'd taken a few weeks ago, only enforced her need to stay. There was no way she'd have made it on her own. She'd hoped a miracle would come her way and he'd change when she told him the news. She learned the hard way that he had no intention of changing. If he could speak, he'd probably say it should have been her in the grave, instead of him. Fate intervened and brought her freedom, despite her hesitancy to step out into the world.

The only feelings inside her were guilt for being partly responsible for his death, and sadness for her child, who would grow up without a father. She turned away and walked through the crowd of people who, one by one, offered their condolences.

No one knew what he put her through. He'd been a master deceiver, always putting on a lovey dovey act when his friends were around. But the monster inside him lurked beneath the surface, waiting for the moment when they were alone. His words were warm, his eyes cold. She shivered when a snowflake slipped beneath the collar of her jacket.

His business partners made sure she gave him a funeral service. She agreed for fear of what might happen had she done otherwise. If it was up to her, she'd have just had a graveside service and be done with it. Her heart remained cool and distant as though she was viewing a stranger. He was no longer the man she'd fallen in love with in college. Now, that was the man she could truly mourn for. The one she'd miss.

Her first tear slid down her cheek as she reached the last person in line who offered their condolences. He looked vaguely familiar, but her brain wasn't working well enough to remember him. A large bandage covered his left cheek. His friendly voice made him appear sympathetic, but his eyes, which concentrated on her so intently, looked as though they held a secret she'd rather not know. They made her shudder with unease.

She said a quick thank you and then excused herself. She could feel his eyes still watching her as she hurried away. The hair on her arms stood on end and she wondered if she really was free after all.

****

He watched Laryssa make her way to the car. "It's not over. Not by a long shot," he murmured. He noticed a woman beside him staring, and pulled the brim of his hat down low. "Sad, sad day." He shook his head for her benefit.

Now there was nothing to stop him from taking what he wanted. For seven years he'd been patient, seven bloody years. He ached with anticipation of having her all to himself. An ache that was all too familiar from watching her night after night. No more seeking relief by his own hand, not when she would soon be able to do it for him.

His gaze slid down her body. She wore a full length black dress, but that didn't ease his excitement. He knew her body too well. His hands tingled at the thought of peeling the dress off her and he grew hard just thinking of her naked. The veil she wore covered her face, but he knew the brown curly hair and matching eyes that hid beneath it. There was nothing about her he didn't know. What song she sang in the shower. What color her favorite underwear was. He'd left no stone unturned. He would bide his time. Let her mourn for her loss.

He chuckled.

Loss? What a laugh. How many times had he seen her crying in her bedroom at night? How many times had she pretended to be asleep, hoping that Aidan wouldn't beat her when he got home? Only Laryssa, his sweet Laryssa, could be upset over such a man.

He made the sign of a cross, as he walked back to his car. He put the key in the ignition and sat back in his seat, letting his gaze linger over her a final time. She sat slumped at her steering wheel.

"Make no mistake, Laryssa. I'm coming to take what's mine."

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A/N

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