Love Painted in Red
by Cristiane Serruya
Tavish MacCraig, thirty-three-year-old Highlander, forsook his medical and military career, after being a
Laetitia, who fled hell on earth when she was sixteen, now works as a well-paid housekeeper in a forsaken country manor in Warwickshire and sells her paintings in an obscure gallery. To preserve her new life and recently found peace, she resists Tavish and The Blue Dot's fantastic offer of an exclusive contract.
Laetitia becomes Tavish’s obsession; Tavish, Laetitia’s unattainable dream.
Meanwhile, a man with a burning grudge plots his long-awaited revenge, which could destroy them all over again.
And now for an Excerpt!
Mallory Court Hotel
“I trust you’ll find the food excellent,” he said, parking his car in front of a Lutyens-style main house, the epitome of a classic English country house.
After she had changed clothes and came to meet him in the studio, he had known she would capture the attention of all the men in Mallory Court. It was not that her dress was transparent, clingy, short, or even brand-new. Far from that. She was wearing a lilac turtleneck long-sleeve maxi dress with a large gray belt low on her hips and gray flat booties. The vintage outfit emphasized her youth and put his imagination on fire. He wanted to rip off her dress and devour her breasts.
He wasn’t quite sure what they had talked about or what had happened on the way to the hotel, as her sweet scent wrapped him in its flowery vine.
As he helped her out of the car, the warmth of his hands penetrated through her dress. She kept her hands on his shoulders when he didn’t let go of her waist immediately, striving to ignore how rigid and well formed his muscles were. Damn, Laetitia! Stop these thoughts. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Wee lasses tend to have a difficult time descending from my car in long dresses, unaided.” And man, I’ve developed an appreciation for wee lasses in long dresses.
She wanted to point out that everything would be wee when compared to him, but she just said again, “Thank you.”
He clasped his hands behind his back, lest he would pick her up in his arms and take her directly to a room. Focus on something else. “You have a lilting Gaelic accent. But you’re not Scottish, are you?”
About the Author:
Cristiane Serruya is Brazilian and lives in Rio de Janeiro, with her husband, two teenage daughters, and Loki, her Shetland sheepdog. She has studied in England, France, Italy, and Switzerland and graduated in Law, with a Master’s in Business Law, and a BA in Fine Arts. In 2012, she published her first romance, and is proud of the awards her novels have received.
She still works as a lawyer, but writing has become an essential part of her life, and a fulfilling adventure, as it allows her to make friends all over the world.
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