Best Modern Romances Of The Year 2017

Raul had been right to be concerned.

She was scared of Maurice and his temper.

Oh, she wasn’t running to Raul—she was running away from hell.

Maurice slapped her.

He delivered a stinging slap to her cheek and pulled at her hair, raised his other hand—but somehow she freed herself.

Lydia ducked into the elevator and wrenched the doors closed on his hand.

‘Thank you,’ she said. With the gate safely between them she spoke in a withering tone. ‘Now I know for a fact what an utter bastard you are.’

She did not crumple.

Lydia refused to.

And she refused to waste even a single tear.

She was scared, though.

Scared and alone.

And she would have run into the night.

Without Raul, absolutely she would have run.

But instead of going down Lydia pressed the elevator button that would take her to his floor.

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