Broken Chords (Love in London 2)

He laughs. “I’m the lucky one.”

The baby kicks again, hard enough to make us both jump, and he reaches down to press his hand onto my stomach.

“The luckiest guy in the world.”

The End

ALSO BY CARRIE ELKS

Coming Down (Love in London #1)

Fix You

Sempre Foi Voce (Brazilian Edition)

COMING SOON

(Love in London #3)

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ALSO IN THE LOVE IN LONDON SERIES

Coming Down (Niall and Beth’s Story)

Beth finally has her life back on track. A job she loves, a wealthy husband and a beautiful home are a far cry from the tragedy that struck when she was nineteen. But now that her past seems firmly behind her, an old flame walks back into her life. Bringing back painful memories of a time she's worked hard to forget, reviving a passion she tried to bury years before.

Niall is an up-and-coming artist, recently returned from success in America. Volunteering to teach in an inner-city drug clinic, the last person he expects to see is the girl who broke his heart nine years earlier. Working closely together allows their old wounds to heal, forging a deeper connection between them. One that slowly starts to burn.

As she becomes tangled up with a neglected child and her drug-addict mother, Beth finds herself drawn to Niall. But neither of them can anticipate how hard it is to tread the thin line between friendship and desire.

Read on for an excerpt from the first chapters.

An Excerpt from Coming Down by Carrie Elks

The night air smells of freshly cut grass and rain. I move through it, my hips undulating to the sound of music that stopped playing an hour ago. Blood fills my veins like thick black treacle, making me feel weightless, dizzy. High.

The party is over, the rain has seen to that. When the downpour started, everyone ran inside, heading for dorm rooms or calling cabs. I stayed where I was, inclining my face to the sky, letting the rain cool my flesh. It washed away my makeup and the stench of alcohol. It felt so good.

My clothes are stuck to my body. My hair is plastered to my head, but still I dance. The ecstasy I took earlier hasn’t worn off yet. I feel strong and invincible, as if I’m some kind of goddess.

I see shoes first—blue Nike Airs sticking out from under a copse of trees. A plume of smoke spirals above the leaves. A few steps closer and I smell it: smoky and sweet. That’s when I see him.

His eyes are heavy as he stares at me. Dark blue depths I want to dive inside. He gazes at me without recognition, has no idea who I am. I know him, though. He’s one of the beautiful set; an artist.

“You’re wet.” He’s still staring at me.

Unlike the rest of my body, my throat is dry. I swallow hard. “It’s raining.”

“Your observational skills astound me.” There’s an Irish lilt to his voice that thrills. I try to imagine what it would sound like whispered in my ear. The thought makes me shiver.

“Are you cold?”

I shake my head and say “Yes” at the same time. I’m so mixed up by the drugs and his proximity it’s hard to think straight.