Modern Romance December 2019 Books 1-4. Maisey Yates

art form, but every stroke of Letty’s uncertain fingers, every tiny enthusiastic kiss from her generous mouth had an infinitely stronger effect on him. And whether it was the medical training or the truth that he had married a superbly sensual woman, it was the sexiest hour he had ever enjoyed, and he told her so afterwards.

      ‘Nonsense,’ she told him, a little crossly because he had stopped her at what she considered to be a crucial point and before he could climax and she felt cheated.

      Leo spread her out across the bed. ‘Now it’s my turn.’

      He found her ready, aching for him, and he plunged and she gasped in delight at the sheer rush of sensation flaring and flaming through her needy body. She wanted more and he gave her more until containing that pleasure became too much and she rose against him with a keening cry as sweet gratification flooded her in an unstoppable rush.

      ‘You will miss me when you’re in London, meli mou,’ Leo pronounced with satisfaction.

      And Letty saw no good reason to deny the truth because sometimes that was just the way the cookie crumbled. ‘Yes, but life throws you lemons occasionally when you really want peaches.’

      Leo laughed out loud in appreciation and held her close because he was already thinking of round two.

      And she lay there, feeling unexpectedly secure and happy, thinking I can do this.