An exclusive excerpt, plus a giveaway!
Love Me Later Synopsis:
Scarlet Leore enjoys a glittering existence amongst society’s elite. Ethan Blake is a prizefighter knocking his way through school, counting on his winnings to bankroll the dreams that won’t fit in a boxing ring. When the two meet, neither can deny the instant attraction that wells between the hulking fighter and the heiress who is miles and millions out of his league. But a vicious attack leaves Scarlet physically and emotionally battered, and for Ethan, her allure crumbles along with the rest of his life after she accuses him of wielding the knife.
Years later, Scarlet has abandoned the high life for that of a hard-working lawyer, while Ethan has clawed his way to the pinnacle of a business empire. Drawn into his world of high-stakes tech mergers, they dance to a tune of revenge, desire, and finally, redemption. But their world won’t tolerate an attorney falling for her client. They’ll need more than lust and forgiveness. They must bridge the chasm of a tormented past to understand who they are today. Only then can they forge a future in the face of the resurging enemy who once tore them apart.
Instead of prodding him, Ethan sat back. Eventually, his lawyer would spill, but that was just it. Only in time.
“Look,” the other man drawled after several moments of tense silence, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. “You want Optik?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Then we need a different team. Our guys don’t get it. Think about Hong Kong—all coulda, woulda, shoulda.” Ron downed the rest of his own whisky in a single gulp. “I know of a lawyer based here in New York—a woman who asks the right questions and gets the right answers. Her clients don’t end up eating billion-dollar mistakes. We need her.”
Billboard raised his shoulders in a graceful shrug Ethan didn’t buy for a second. “It’s Scarlet Leore.” A pause. “And before you ask, yes, she’s your Scarlet.”
The hairs rose on the back of Ethan’s neck. His most trusted advisor had the gall to suggest he hire her. His Scarlet. The woman who, within a day of his discovering her unconscious form, within twenty-four hours of his saving her life, had accused him of trying to take it.
The arresting officers had been caustic when he’d questioned their cause. “Any idea why she might think you robbed and then stabbed her twice?” Both uniforms, one for each arm, had jerked him away from the cold brick of his Brooklyn apartment building, neighbors gaping at the spectacle. “You have the right to remain silent… If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you…”
God, the indictment. His prints had been found at the scene, prints he’d laid down while seeing her to safety. Her mace spray had been recovered from his apartment, a bauble haphazardly collected when he’d found her crumpled, unresponsive body. And the crown jewel—Scarlet’s damning testimony, swearing he’d cornered her in that parking lot, threatened her, stolen from her, and then slammed a blade into her body before dumping her car and calling the police in either an attack of conscience or a diabolical attempt to cover his tracks.
Why the hell would he have outed himself like that?
Bathed in cold sweat, Ethan swiped at his brow before his lawyer could note the mental flailing. Seeing Scarlet’s look-alike in the train station had been one thing. Working with her, trusting her to act in his best interest? Whole ‘nother fucking show.
Funny how quickly the mind could travel through time and space. One moment he drank barrel-aged whisky in his posh office with an old confidant. The next, a gavel rapped against a judge’s bench. “Bail is set at five hundred thousand.” It might as well have been ten million. There’d been more handcuffs, a different jumpsuit, and then a wrenching blue-and-white corrections bus.
Finally, Rikers Island. To await trial in style.
And all for the bargain price of two words: Scarlet Leore.
Before becoming a writer, Libby was first a mechanical engineer in the data acquisition industry (voltmeter anyone?). Preferring writing to technical design, Libby headed to law school and eventually practiced patent law for several enterprising years (patent application covering a voltmeter anyone?). Finally realizing that technology just wasn’t her bag, she traded the voltmeters for alpha heroes and the women who love them.
Today, Libby writes contemporary romances from the foot of the Rocky Mountains, where she lives with her husband, a bona fide rocket scientist (he stuck with the voltmeters!). When not writing, Libby loves good food, even better wine, and traveling the world in search of the next great story.
Libby loves hearing from readers! Join the fun at www.libbyrice.com, where you can sign up for Libby’s new-release e-newsletter, or on Facebook, Twitter, and/or Instagram.