West Bound (The Quiet Horsemen, #3)

by Maggie Rawdon

I’d wanted to die for so long. To be erased just like he was. And now, when I least want it, I’ll get my wish.

“Fuck me. I regret telling you any of this. I don’t have a type.” “Well, if you did, it seems married runaway nuns with a penchant for torture would be up there on the list.”

I have no idea how many blatantly obvious rejections from him it’s going to take to get it through my head.

Because the way I kiss her isn’t like I’m trying to seduce her or keep her in line with little favors. I kiss her like I want to make her mine.

Isn’t that what he’s been doing this whole time? Flirting with me, leading me on, making me think he wants me just to get under

my skin. It certainly worked back at the abbey and continues to hold me captive while we’ve been here. I rub the heel of my palm over my sternum. What if everything he’s done has been a lie to get me to do what he wants and I’m just too dense to realize it?

“Sometimes good things are going to be true, even if the past tries to trick us into believing they’re impossible. You taught me that.”

“I missed you,” he confesses. “I missed you too.” “I’ll walk any line you want me to.