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REUNITED WITH THE REBEL BILLIONAIRE
Bayou Billionaires #3
Catherine Mann
Releasing on April 1st, 2016 (Digital)
and April 5th, 2016 (Print)
and April 5th, 2016 (Print)
Harlequin Desire
Is it a real reunion, or one for the
cameras? It's a second-chance romance from USA TODAY bestselling author Catherine
Mann!
Football star Henri Reynaud won't
let his career go down without a fight. If the only way to win is to reconcile
with his estranged wife, he'll do what it takes. But spending time with Fiona
Harper-Reynaud isn't just some ruse. The sultry beauty belongs in his bed.
Fiona doesn't know where her sexy
husband's public act ends and his real feelings begin. Can she afford to fall a
second time for the man every female wants? One thing is
undeniable—their attraction has never flared hotter!
Henri took risks in his job on a
regular basis. Sure, his teammates worked their asses off to prevent
a hard tackle from his blindside. But he understood and accepted that
every time he stepped onto the field, he could suffer a career ending
injury.
Fans
called him brave.
Sports
analysts labeled him sometimes reckless.
The
press branded him as fearless.
They
were all wrong.
He’d
been scared as hell every day since the doctors declared Fiona had
inherited her family’s cancer gene. It didn’t matter that their
marriage had been on the rocks. He’d been rocked to his foundation.
Still was.
Henri
clenched her shoulders so his hands wouldn’t shake. Even the
smallest touch between them was filled with tension. And not in the
way that made him weak in the knees. “Your zipper?”
With
a will of their own, his eyes took in the long line of her neck,
exposed with her dark hair corralled by a thin braid so that long,
loose curls cascaded in a narrow path down her back. He looked
further, down her spine skimmed by those curls and to the small of
her back that called to him to touch, to kiss. But he’d lost the
right. She’d made that clear when he’d tried to reconcile after
the doctor’s prognosis.
“Thank
you, yes please,” she said, glancing over her shoulder nervously
and pulling her hair aside. He hated seeing that sort of distance in
her eyes. “I’m running late because of, uhm, a last minute snafu
with the caterer.”
“Adelaide
said you were having trouble with your car so I came home early. But
I see it’s in the garage. What was wrong?”
Whipping
her head away from his gaze, she muttered, “Doesn’t matter.”
It
was becoming her trademark response. It didn’t matter.
That
was a lie. He could tell it in the way her mouth thinned as she
spoke.
Letting
out a deep sigh, his eyes traced over their room. Or should he
say—their former
room. He’d taken to sleeping in the guest bedroom of the restored
home. Away from her. They’d even lost the ability to lie next to
each other at night. To show up for each other in that simple way.
In
front of him was the first gift he’d ever bought Fiona. It was a
handsome jewelry armoire that doubled as a full length mirror. It was
a one-of-a-kind vintage piece. Whimsical and light. Just like Fiona
in her beautiful, jewel colored dress. Looking at the gilded mirror
with his exquisite wife framed in its reflection reminded him of how
far they’d fallen. Damn.
This
whole room was a mausoleum to what was.
He
wanted her to lean on him. Even if it was just a little bit. This
wasn’t what he wanted. “Anything else I can do to help?”
“I’ve
got it under control.” Finality colored her words.
“You
always do.” It came out harsher than he intended. But damn it, he
was trying. Couldn’t she see that?
She
spun around to face him, her petite frame filling with rigid rage
with the silk of her gown whirled against his shins. Raising her chin
and her brow, she pressed her lips tight, primly. “No need to be
snarky.”
Sticking
his hands in his suit pants, he shrugged, his silk tee under his
jacket as soft as her touch. “I am completely serious.”
Fiona’s
deep brown eyes softened. She took a deep breath and stared at him.
A breeze stirred the stale air of the room, filtering through the
window with the sounds of foot traffic and car horns. It was a
grounding sound, reminding him of when they’d first bought this
house and when they’d been a team. They’d spent hours restoring
the old house. And they’d done it together. They’d built this
house into a home.
“Sorry,
I didn’t mean to start a fight. Adelaide was a huge help during a
really long day. Let’s just get through the evening. It’s harder
and harder to pretend there’s nothing wrong between us.”
Something
was off with her today, but he couldn’t tell what. Clear enough
though, she was trying to pick a fight with him.
“I
don’t want to fight with you.” He didn’t know what the hell he
wanted anymore other than for to have things the way they were.
“You
used to love a good argument with me. Only me. You get along with
everyone else. I never understood that.”
“We
had fire, you and I.” It had been a sizzling love. One that warmed
him to his damn core. And he knew there was still a spark in the
embers. He couldn’t believe it was all gone.
“Had,
Henri. That’s my point. It’s over and you need to quit making
excuses to delay the final step.” Ferocity returned to her
fairy-like features. A warrior in blue silk and sequins.
“Not
excuses. You needed to recover. Then we agreed we wouldn’t upset
the season starting. Then with my brother’s wedding on the
horizon--”
“Excuses.
Divorce isn’t the end of the world.” She pinned up a curl that
had escaped the confines of the delicate braid binding the others
into place.
Everything
about her these days was carefully put together so that no one saw a
hint of the turmoil beneath. For months he’d respected that.
Understood she was the one calling the shots with her health issues.
But how could she deny herself any help? Ever? She’d made it clear
he didn’t know how to be the least bit of assistance.
And
now, divorce was the recurring refrain.
“Our
family is in the spotlight. A split between us would eat up positive
oxygen in the press.” He needed her to take a deep breath. They
needed to figure out everything. He needed to stall.
She
turned back around, using the mirror to smooth her dress. “No one
is going to think poorly of you for leaving me. I will make it clear
I’m the one who asked for the divorce.”
Anger
boiled, flushing his cheeks. “I don’t give a damn what people
think about me.”
“But
you do care about your team. I understand.” He picked up on the
implication of her words. That he didn’t care about her.
And that couldn’t be farther off-base. She was still trying to pick
a fight. To widen the gap between them.
“We’re
going to be late.” The tone of his voice was soft. Almost like a
whisper. He wanted to calm her down, to stop this from turning into
an unnecessary fight. Something was upsetting her. Something major.
As
much as he wanted to understand her, he couldn’t. The party was
about to start and he didn’t have the time to unwrap the subtle
meaning of all of her words.
All
he wanted was to have their old life back. For her to look at him
like she used. To be a team again. For their relationship to be
uncomplicated like it once was.
Tapping
the back of her dress, he met her gaze in the mirror. Settling his
hands back on her shoulder, he breathed against her ear and neck.
“Unless you would like me to take the zipper back down again.”
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