Free Everything to Lose (Moonlight Dating Series #2) by Natalie G. Owens Page A

woman know that she and Dane had called it quits? True, over two hundred and fifty miles separated Richmond, London , from Market Drayton in Shropshire, where the older woman lived. Still, it would have been easier just to send it in the mail.
    And Lisbeth wouldn’t have to relive the pain at the mere sight of his face…
    “She emailed to ask about a website glitch and I mentioned that I had to come up to the UK to meet with a client. So, she asked me to stop over and collect the box.”
    “You actually met her?”
    “Nah, you know how she is. She sent her niece to hand me the package. We met by the downtown post office for five seconds. She seemed to be in a hurry,” he laughed.
    Lisbeth moistened her lips. “You could have told Jeanette to contact me directly.”  Cut it out. He’s here now, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
    He hesitated. “I also wanted to see how you’re doin’. You know, it being near Christmas and all, I just wanted to say hello, make sure you’re okay. It’s been so long...”
    His voice trailed away.
    Did he mean that?
    She shifted her weight on the right foot and looked up at him. Her petite stature was another disadvantage she resented as Dane Marsh towered ridiculously above her by a good head-and-a-half.
    Dane, the love of her life. Or so she’d thought once upon a time.
    Dane, the ex who’d finally signed the divorce papers two months ago. Everything had been sorted in such a civilized manner through their respective lawyers.
    Tension sparked through her, made her head spin like a helicopter stuck in the vortex of a deadly tornado. Outside, as if in silent appreciation of her inner turmoil, the already weak London sun lay imprisoned by a smoky, cloud-filled sky and a persistent drizzle of icy rain.
    He lowered his gaze to the straw mat that had “Welcome” printed across it.
    Feeling self-conscious, she opened the door further. “I’m being rude. Please come in.”
    It wasn’t easy to speak to him like she would a stranger, but she was lost for words.
    “Lisbeth…” he started as he stepped inside.
    “I’m doing fine, as you see. No need to worry. Sunday’s my only day to relax and do some chores. Hard to get anything done on other days…”
    Forcing herself to stop babbling, she started to turn away, but something in his eyes stopped her.
    “Please, may I stay a while? I won’t be long, and it’s cold out there.”
    He made the last words sound like a joke but really, was he begging?
    Every breath he took ended in a cloud of frost. She looked at his damp hair and visibly shivering hands, and the sight tugged at her traitorous heartstrings.
    No, don’t.
    “Let me get this. It’s warm inside,” she offered as she shut the door. “I was just finishing some cleaning up. Come, I’ll make coffee.”
    Two minutes into this odd exchange and she was already acting like an idiot around him.
    Around her husband.
    Her devastatingly handsome ex- husband.
    When she closed the door behind him, he sighed and blew into his hands then rubbed them together. He paused in the hallway and let his gaze drift to the living room alcove window.
    “No tree?”
    His tone was not accusatory, just matter-of-fact, but his simple statement wounded her. 
    Turning away, she held her breath and rummaged for composure. “Oh, I’ve been so busy lately. Haven’t had time.”
    She’d never ever tell him the truth of how it reminded her of past Christmases, when they would spend long evenings skylarking and teasing each other as they hung decorations all over their house; sweet times followed by hot, romantic interludes on the plush oat-colored rug by the fire.
    Their bodies slick, entwined, in flames; her fair, sensitive skin darkened with the imprint of his fevered touch. The soles of her feet sliding over the tense muscles of his calves as he took her in deep, measured thrusts. The hard plains of his chiseled face, the consuming hunger in his eyes. Her palms digging in his rippled