No Other Love

Rose Stratton took a job as a maid in the Fletcher’s household to find her father’s killer, not to fall for the master’s son. But nothing could have prepared her for the instant and forbidden attraction she feels for Luke Fletcher. No other man has made her want so much, or risk so much to have him. With every forbidden kiss she comes closer to losing everything she holds dear.

Luke Fletcher knows better than to trifle with his father’s new maid, but somehow he can’t keep away from her. He runs into Rose at every turn, and it’s not long before his vow to steer clear of the luscious redhead falls to the wayside. Her innocent passion drives him wild with need, but she deserves better than what he has to offer.

It’s not until Luke nearly loses Rose that he understands how far he’ll go to have her. But there are things Rose isn’t telling him, and more obstacles to finding a happily ever after than either of them could foresee.

Excerpt:

His gaze swept over her from head to toe and back up to her face, the heat in his eyes holding her where she stood. Neither of them said a word as the tension that had simmered below the surface now shimmered between them.

Then he moved, covering the space between them in two strides. For a moment he looked at her as if daring her to deny him, or perhaps he was giving her the chance to stop him. But a second was all it lasted, for in the next instant those big hands dove into her hair and he bent his head down to her, his mouth claiming hers.

She started at the hot rush of his lips on hers, her hands automatically rising to grasp his shoulders. Never had she been kissed so, without any time to think, only to feel the hardness and heat of him pressed against her. He said her name like a rough prayer and then his tongue was parting her lips, devouring her where she stood.

Rose went utterly still, shocked at this new demand. Part of her wanted to follow where he led, but it was too treacherous, too sudden. Tearing her mouth from his she pushed at his chest, her breathing fast and light as she stared up at him.
Releasing her, Luke backed way and stood with his hands on his hips, his cheekbones flushed and his breath ragged. Then he turned away from her, pressing a hand against the wall as if for balance.

The feather duster lay on the floor by her feet, a laughable reminder of the whole charade gone awry. Quickly she snatched it up along with her pail and rags and nearly ran for the door, desperate to get away.

“Rose. Please wait.”

She stopped where she was, her back to Luke, unable to face him. The feelings were too new, her newly awakened body too inexperienced to contain them. She didn’t understand what had just happened. Why had he kissed her? And how could she have kissed him back? She was terrified at how quickly she had let go of everything she knew of herself. When Luke was near it was as if Will did not even exist. Even now she could not so much as summon his face to mind.

“Rose, please look at me,” he said, and she felt his hand on her shoulder, urging her to turn around.

But she could not bring herself to speak to him. Her life had been turned upside down in the space of a few minutes, and she was very much afraid she would not be able to pretend otherwise.

So she ran. He called after her but she didn’t slow down and she didn’t look back. Out of the study and down the servants’ staircase she flew until she was safe from him, if not from herself.