SO here I am practically standing at the alter waiting to get married to the man of my dreams.Then he comes back into my life! How do I deal with the fact I still want him so badly after all of this time?What does he want after all of this time?Lacey Ryan’s perfect life was well underway, until a betrayal blindsides her and changes everything. She needs a fresh start, so the last person she expects to offer her one is Tristan Keys, a man from her past.It’s simple - first class flights, the chance to see the world, and maybe a little harmless flirtation while she’s at it.There’s just one thing: Tristan happens to be her brother’s best friend.Entangle Me is created by Maggie Way, an EGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.
View More"God, you do sound like a pom, you've definitely been here too long," Tristan teases over the way I unintentionally pronounced yoghurt in a British accent. "Have not! Although the winters here are chilly, I miss our summer Christmases.""That's okay, I'm here to keep you warm."I bite my lip, loving how close he is to me. "So, what are you doing all the way out here?"He smirks at me, his gaze full of warmth. "I think you have an idea, no?" My cheeks warm as he huddles closer to my body, his height towering over me. We're standing on the end of Waterloo Bridge, the River Thames and the London Eye lying behind us like a beautiful backdrop. It's dark and the surrounding trees on the footpath are beautifully bright, adorned in blue lights. It was drizzling earlier, but it's now stopped and the pavement is mildly damp, adding to the general chill of the city. My suitcase by my side, Tristan is hovering over me as he backs me into the walled railing, his gloved hands rubbing my arms
Tristan. Is. Here. In.London.Specifically, he is outside the house where I have been living in London, with another man. A man who I've just broken up with. "Taxi Delivery Service, how may I help you?" the phone operator utters on the other end of the line, but it fails to reach my consciousness.Whathowwhoso many incomprehensible thoughts are racking through my mind right now. My heart is pounding like a jack hammer at the sight of him in a long black coat, jeans and scarf. The coffee eggnog is really not helping right now. "Hi" I whisper, barely audible. My insides are flooding with nerves. A jar of butterflies has dropped inside my stomach and they are flying everywhere."Hello? Is anyone there?" The call operator speaks through the receiver. I use any semblance of my wit to press the hang up button, my fingers are shaky as I keep my eyes locked on Tristan. What is he doing here?There's a black taxi on the kerb behind him, presumably the one that dropped him off. It does
I walk up to the door, a full gift bag in each of my hands. I drop my bag to get the key when Giles, the driver, walks up to me. "Let me get the bag, Miss." Giving him a polite smile, I let him hold the bag as I open the door. "Thank you," I say as I open the door and he puts the bags right inside the entrance."Have a nice Christmas, Miss Ryan." Giles, the driver smiles at me warmly before he starts walking off. "Thank you, same to you and your family. Merry Christmas!" I give him a fat grin and wave at him.Closing the door, my smile drops instantly and I clench my jaw at how irritated I am. It's Christmas Eve, the jolliest time of year. I've just come back from Amelia and Kieran's beautiful house in Hertfordshire where I had lunch with them and I am lightly tipsy from Kieran's egg nog coffee punch. Everything was so delicious. Caramelized onion tarts with apples. Brussel sprouts with chestnuts & sage. Chunky roast potatoes. Crisp honey mustard parsnips. Bacon, sausage & prun
It's the Christmas season! The days are short, nights are long, showers go longer. There are so many things I love about winter. I love making hot Belgian chocolate and those little marshmallows, I love snuggling up on the couch with a book in my thick robe and furry shoes, a doona draped over me. I love the food associated with winter: soups, casseroles, roasts. I'll be spending my first Christmas in London, and Amelia has invited Edmund and me over to their place for lunch Christmas Eve. I cannot wait to have my first proper winter Christmas. I just hope Edmund can make it. I'm sure that work will die down by then and I can have some quality time with him, the fun Edmund I haven't seen too much since I've been here. There's still been no progress on the assistant front, so I've been keeping busy by pursuing culinary perfection. With another two weeks to go until the day, I've been in the kitchen non-stop since I've arrived and I like to think my cooking skills have improved immense
I plop my head on the fluffy mattress, panting loudly as I let the post coital experience wash over me. Something is wrong with me. I just slept with my boyfriend for the first time, but I came thinking about my ex-fake husband. No, it was purely coincidental. It's just the half bottle of pinot gris swirling in my head, that's it surely. Instead, I'm going to bask in how nice that was.That was not bad, not bad at all. It wasn't fireworks but it was nice and efficient. He definitely knows a thing or two about pleasing a woman, that's for sure. He was very attentive, gentle, tender even. Just what I like - what I prefer. Unlike Tristan, who is all so aggressive. The way he grabs my hips so roughly, the way he pulls my hair, the way he bites my lip andgah! No more reminiscing! I'm so ashamed of myself, what's wrong with me? Noit's just a once-off. It won't happen again. I'm sure of it."How was that for you?" Edmund asks coolly as he looks down at me. His face is slick with a thin la
My feet tapping against the leg of the small mahogany table, I check my phone to see if there are any text messages. Nope, nothing. My guest should be on time, I'm just early. Looking around the café, I'm glad this place was picked. I'm sitting in the middle of The Purple Hare, a rustic and inviting mahogany infused restaurant in the middle of Chelsea. Packed to the brim with drunk and merry locals clad in wintry garb, the woody and earthy ambience mixed with the smell of Guinness, grilled steak and mashed potatoes makes the place feel like a second home almost. I am about to press the call button when the door flies open. "Hey!" Amelia waves excitedly at me but my mouth pops open at the sight of her in a long black parka jacket, jeans and boots. She said she had a surprise for me, but this was the last thing I expected.Standing up, I point at her stomach, which is a heck of a lot bigger than when I last saw it. "Oh my goodness, you are as full as a house!"A permanent grin
London baby, I have arrived! As Edmund and I sit in the back of the chauffeur driven car, my face is plastered to the window as I take in this new city that is now my home. There's so much to take in: it's incredible how one place can have so much vibrancy, multiculturalism, and a cosmopolitan edge all at once: the sky scraper buildings, glamourous clothes shops filling the high streets, the internationally renowned restaurants, the parks, the double deckers, the black cabs. And then there's the history: Westminster Abbey, Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, Tower Bridge, the London Eye, 10 Downing Street, the Tower Bridge, the Great Fire, Barbican Arts Gallery. This city is truly a perfect blending of the past and present. Just when I am keen on continuing the driving tour, the car pulls up and I turn to Edmund, my mouth having popped open at where we've stopped."Tell me you're joking. This is not your place." Edmund chuckles heartily. "Is that a good thing?"I turn back to press my fa
"Call us the second you get there, alright?" Mom repeats herself for the fifth time in two hours. I am standing outside my favourite Japanese restaurant on Bridge Street in Wynyard, saying my final goodbyes for the night. Gabe has gone home and it's just me and my family, who won't let me get into my car and drive back home. It's my farewell party with my loved ones, and I've spent the night laughing, getting sentimental and emotional with my parents, Hansley, Jackie, and Gabe. My flight is tomorrow morning, and because I would find it too difficult to say goodbye to any of them at the airport, I suggested dinner instead. Less invasive this way."I get there at six in the evening, it will be three in the morning for you. I'll just text you first," I insist and she scowls at me."Fine, but as soon as you get off the plane, alright? I don't care what time. I just need to know you are safe. I will be expecting a text at 3AM," she insists, her tone unyieldingly stern. I nod at her dogg
Pacing around the room, I play with my fingers as I wait nervously. Don't be afraid, just tell him. He'll understand, I know it. As I continue rehearsing what I need to say, my door knocks. Okay, he's here. Taking a deep inhalation, I shuffle to the door and open it to greet the person on the other side."Hi darl!" Gabe leans in to give me an air kiss, before holding up a cheese platter and packet of crackers in front of me. "Okay, gossip time. I think the occasion calls for cheese and crackers."He has no idea what I've got in store for him. I grin as I take the food from him. "I'll get the bottle of wine. But I'm making chicken fajitas, so keep your stomach free for them."Closing the door behind him, Gabe saunters in looking like his fabulous self in a navy crested jacket and white pants. I put the cheese and crackers on the dining table, before grabbing the silver glittery gift bag sitting on one of the chairs. "Here, just a little something for helping out. How was it bac
BOOK ONE: SYDNEYHave you ever had a kiss that breathed life into your soul? That ignited a fire inside you? That sends you into the most beautiful free fall?Because that happened to me on my wedding day.Except it wasn't with the man I was meant to marry.Gabe taps my shoulder, his expressive honey-coloured eyes looking at me. "Sweetie, stop touching your lips. They are as dry as the Sahara Desert." I really should drink more water, the Xanax makes them dry, not to mention I have a bad habit of stroking them when I'm trying to concentrate. I look up from my laptop and turn to him. We've been on this plane for ten hours, and yet his platinum blonde hair is still perfectly coiffed. His trademark white silk scarf is wrapped tightly around his neck, his nails perfectly manicured. Only he can still be continually suave and chic twenty-four seven. I, on the other hand, have a thin layer of sweat, and I do not feel attractive in the slightest even with my trusty eyeliner enhancing
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