Ex-SAS Sergeant Rick Week’s career ended in a hail of bullets and the death of his friend Billy. After months of recuperation, Rick can finally fulfill a promise he made to Billy; deliver a letter to his girl. Simple. Maybe....
Hattie Jameson lost the man she loved. KIA. Eighteen months later, she’s trying to move on. Then a sexy-as-hell Scottish soldier turns up on her doorstep—the man who’d been with Billy when he’d died. She shouldn’t find him attractive. Not at all....
Sergeant Rick Week’s career ended in a hail of bullets and the death of a friend. After months of recuperation, he’s finally able to fulfill a promise he made to that friend. All he has to do is find a girl and deliver a letter. Simple. Maybe…
Hattie Jameson lost the man she loved. KIA. A year and a half later, she’s trying to move on but a letter for a charity calendar shoot addressed to her late fiance, Billy, rocks her. Not as much as the sexy as hell Scottish soldier who turns up on her doorstep. The man who was with Billy when he died. She shouldn’t find him attractive. Not at all…
Meanwhile fate, and Billy himself, have plans to bring the reluctant lovers together.
Can Rick and Hattie get past their grief and let love in?
Read an Excerpt
“I’m Rick Weeks. Pleasure to meet you.”
Hattie’s hand was already out, ready to shake, but when he spoke, she faltered. Rick Weeks. She knew that name. She shouldn’t, but thanks to one of the men in Billy’s squad she did. Rick Weeks…Sergeant R. Weeks. The soldier who’d carried her Billy back into base while both of them were badly wounded. Billy had taken his last breath seconds after the gates closed behind them.
Faced with the man who’d been with Billy when he died, she lost her ability to speak, or even think.
From what she’d been told, Billy’s squad had been ambushed in one of the nearby towns. Scattering, they’d been forced to take cover in the ruins. Insurgent activity in the area meant the base couldn’t send out a rescue party. She’d never been able to get an answer on why the British were in the area. But, according to the short letter she’d been given, a British soldier had found Billy injured and taking shelter in a building on the edge of town.
Together, Rick and Billy waited through the night then made a break for the base at dawn. They’d almost made it, the base in sight, but a sniper opened fire. Billy had taken the brunt of the fire, bullets riddling his slender frame to slam into the soldier who carried him—who continued to carry him, running for the safety of the base. The British soldier was hailed as a hero and Billy came home in a metal box.
Now, that soldier—Rick Weeks—stood in front of her, the name given a face, and she couldn’t think of a thing to say. Except….
“Go to hell.”