Valentine Vendetta. Sharon Kendrick

      ‘Who told you I was married? Cormack?’

      The blaze from his eyes was like a searchlight. ‘Yeah. Who else? You don’t wear the fact tattooed on your forehead, that’s for sure!’

      Fran shifted awkwardly on her seat. ‘Well, that’s past tense. I’m divorced now.’

      ‘So I understand. There’s a lot of it around,’ he drawled. ‘But even so…’ He let his thumb trickle slowly around the base of her finger in a gesture which to Fran seemed both highly suggestive and highly erotic and she shivered despite the warmth of the car. ‘Wedding rings always leave their mark—one way or the other.’

      This was getting too close for comfort. Fran tore her hand away from his and pushed open the car door, her breath coming hot and thick in her throat. ‘I’ll see you when you get back from Europe,’ she croaked.