Realist Dr. Carla Harris believes that people create their own fate through hard work and careful planning. She believes in playing things safe. But, while preparing for her upcoming nuptials, she’s forced to confront the most reckless thing she’s ever done…her estranged husband, Jacob.
Idealist Jacob Moreau believes in soul mates as much as he believes in saving endangered companies. When his long lost wife reenters his life seeking a divorce, he is convinced more than ever they are meant to be together. And he will do—and lose—anything to have her again.
She thought she had her life planned to perfection. He thought they made perfect sense together.
Would marrying Jacob be the craziest thing she’s ever done, or divorcing him?
As soon as Carla opened the door to her hotel room she threw herself face-first on the plush king-sized bed. Her heart had been racing a million miles a second since she left Jacob’s office, and she hadn’t quite put herself back together. It was a struggle. She was in over her head and knew it the moment she crashed in his office. Seeing him with his ever-changing hazel eyes—that she remembered—threw her initial plan to conquer and deliver out the window. Why couldn’t she simply deliver her speech? And why did he still have to be so gorgeous after all these years? His sandy blond hair was messy, looked as if he had a quick morning screw, and his chambray button up shirt was opened a bit low—even for casual Friday. She couldn’t take her eyes off the smooth skin at his throat. God, she hoped he didn’t pick up on how much he affected her.
She turned over on her back, not worrying about her Armani suit. A greater matter took precedence: Jacob Moreau. A wrinkled fifteen-hundred dollar suit was nothing at the moment. She couldn’t care that her hair was a mess of waves and knots, and she couldn’t care that her face probably looked like something out of Zombieland. It was his face that took over her mind, infiltrated it. Everything else was irrelevant. His hazel eyes and his thick arms flexing underneath his shirt with each movement awoke something deep within. His strong hands picking up the escaped perfume and placing it carefully back in her purse rolled over in her mind. His jagged voice sounded off in her ears. He’d been quite a man ten years ago, but what he’d become was… novel.
The melodic ring of her Smartphone startled her Jacob-digression. Shit. She scrambled to reach the vibrating phone and saw Oliver’s picture flashing on the screen. Her lips pressed tight—not who she wanted to speak to. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she swiped the screen to answer the call. “Hi, Oliver.”
Author bio: Roe Valentine was born into the right family. Not only does the name Valentine suit her, but her grandmother, unknowingly, introduced the young Ms. Valentine to her first romance novel. She hasn’t read anything else since. She calls herself a romantic at heart and believes that love conquerors all.
The San Antonio native, who now lives in Houston, attempted to write her first contemporary romance novel when she was nineteen years old. That attempt didn’t take, but her story has a happy ending. She kept pursuing the dream until she landed her first publishing contract in 2013.
When not busy writing or reading love stories, Roe can often be found in a yoga class or chatting with friends at her favorite coffee shop. Enjoying margaritas with some girl-talk isn’t unusual for her either. For a night in, she watches reruns of her favorite TV shows and, of course, romantic comedies on her Roku, usually with a glass of wine.