Blitz – Fractured by Elle Charles

On July 17, 2019 by Jaye

How do you learn to remember when you have forced yourself to forget?

How do you learn to trust when those who were meant to protect you failed?

Catering assistant, Kara Petersen, leads a quiet, monotonous life until a simple twist of fate changes everything.

The sparks fly when Kara meets handsome, enigmatic, Sloan Foster. Dominant in the boardroom and successful in the bedroom, he always gets what he wants – and he wants her.

Captivated by his charm and aloof confidence, Kara is drawn to him in a way she has never been to anyone before. Aware something isn’t quite right, and against her better judgement, she concedes his intense allure is too strong to resist and their innocent fling swiftly develops into something she could never have imagined.

But in this outwardly perfect world of wealth and glamour, all that glitters isn’t gold. And as the mystery behind the man begins to slowly unravel, so does her life.

Now, with her heart and trust on the line, Kara is learning more about herself than she ever thought possible, from a man who seemingly knows more than he should. And the memories she forced herself to forget, are the ones she now desperately needs to remember…

Fractured is the first gripping instalment of Elle Charles’ dark, contemporary, romantic suspense series. Featuring unpredictable plot twists and endearing characters, this sensual, compelling saga of enduring love, ceaseless passion and sacrifice will keep you turning pages until the very end!

Perfect for fans of Sylvia Day, E L James, Aleatha Romig and Helen Hardt.

Download your copy now and become addicted to a new series!

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Please be advised this book is not a standalone novel. It is the first in the Fractured series, and the story develops and unravels over the course of the first three books. Each book is full length (between 326 and 450 pages each) and must be read in order.

This is a dark contemporary romance novel. It contains sexual scenes and controversial subject matter (including triggers) that some may find upsetting. Intended for readers aged 18+

This novel is a new edition that has been re-edited and revised – 27 July 2018.

Links

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22088934-fractured?ac=1&from_search=true
Purchase:FREE!Amazon: https://books2read.com/u/49orzW?store=amazon
Other books in the series: https://amzn.to/2Se880C

Excerpt

I slowly take in the room; clean lines of glass and dark wood, expensive fabrics and leather. Opulence seems to be a running theme here from what I can see. Rich shades of cream and brown finish the room beautifully. The whole place screams money and success, and it’s absolutely stunning. Suddenly, I realise why the man downstairs eyed me like shit; I don’t belong here, and neither does Sam. I bite down on my lip to suppress the panic rising up from the confines of my stomach.

Then the door clicks shut behind me.

I spin around, and my mouth dries out almost instantly, as I prepare myself to come face to face with the sneering, dirty bastard again.

Oh. Holy. Fuck!

It’s not the sneering, dirty bastard.

I wilt where I stand. My lungs actually stop operating momentarily, and my heart shudders like it has been finally shocked from a long, deep slumber. My whole body currently feels on fire for some unknown, inexplicable reason.

“I have already had my doctor take a look at her. She seems to be fine, just, well…she’s high.”

He folds his impressive, muscular arms over his equally impressive, muscular chest, and he leans back against the closed door. My eyes drop to his feet, and ever so slowly, work their way up his body. Tanned bare feet, long muscular legs and thick thighs, wrapped up in worn, faded blue jeans. The fitted white t-shirt encasing his torso does nothing to hide the perfectly defined ridges of his stomach, chest and shoulders. The outlines are more than visible underneath the stretched fabric. I gulp excessively, open-mouthed and speechless, at the faultless specimen of male perfection towering over me.

I stare up at him, my lips part and my eyes widen. His face is heavenly; beautiful, naturally bronzed skin, a strong, chiselled jaw, set under perfect cheekbones. His nose is straight and flawlessly proportioned. He has the darkest, yet clearest midnight blue eyes I have ever seen. In fact, I’m positive I have never seen such a colour before. He seems piqued by my stare, and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

My hands clench at my sides in desperation, and my tongue slides over my bottom lip. All I can think about is running my hands over his sexy, slightly too long dark locks, while his tongue….

Oh my God! What the hell?!

A nervous feeling wells up in my stomach, twisting into knots deep in my gut. I place a hand over my belly, but the feeling shifts south and suddenly can I feel heat pooling at my core profusely. His eyes remain locked on mine, and I’m dying to rub my thighs together to alleviate the tension that is building immensely.

I chew my lip timidly. Is he aware of what I am doing and that he’s instigating it? He smirks a little. Of course, he’s aware! Look at him! Any woman would be brain dead not to want him. Even my asexual self is not immune, judging by the way my body is reacting to him.

He arches up an eyebrow over his stunning dark blue, now virtually black eyes. He is fully aware that I am shamelessly checking him out, amongst other things, while my poor friend is lying in pain only a few feet away. I mentally scold myself for such uncharacteristic behaviour. Yet I can’t help it, this man has ignited something in me. I can’t even begin to fathom where it is coming from.

I need to get out of here.

I need to get away from him.

Feeling painfully aware, I wrap my arms around my middle and shift from one foot to the other, desperate to eradicate these alien sensations bubbling copiously inside my body. He remains motionless watching me, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable under his roving eye. The way he’s studying me makes me want to run for cover. I don’t know what it is, but there is a familiarity in his eyes that is unmistakable. I also don’t misinterpret the ghost of a smile forming on his lips.

Somewhere, I think I have seen him before.

“Thank you,” I whisper, averting my eyes, desperately trying to control the heat my body is emanating. I don’t know what else to say. All words have left me, and for the first time in my life, I actually feel something that I can definitely say I have not experienced previously.

Sexual attraction.

It is something that no man has ever elicited in me, not even come close to.

Well, maybe once, many years ago.

—-

“Please keep my card.” His eyes are full of determination, and the sharp, chiselled lines of his face are taut.

He isn’t asking me, he’s telling me.

I shake my head again because his intentions are clear, and I want no part of whatever he is promising. What I wanted, wouldn’t be what he wanted, and I could never lower myself to be a rich man’s plaything. My dignity might have been stripped from me forever, but I’ll be damned if I allow someone to take my pride.

“Why are you doing this? Why do you even care?”

Without answering, he ushers me towards the door. Placing his hand on the small of my back, the heat spreads through me again like liquid fire, eviscerating everything in its tracks. His brow raises, and he eyes me up and down, deep in thought, before picking a jacket off the rack, then following me out too close for comfort.

We approach the lift, and my blood runs cold, as though a bucket of water has just been thrown over me. A cold sweat overcomes me as we stand in silence waiting for it to arrive. The bell dings and the doors open, relief and sheer dread fill me simultaneously. As uncomfortable as lifts make me, it’s nowhere near as uncomfortable as being in his haughty sight, but I am safe in the knowledge that within minutes, I will never have to lay eyes on him again.

The doors open and I enter cautiously. I practically jump for joy when he appears to remain outside the box. The doors then start to close, and with a sigh, he shakes his head. Reaching his arm out to stop the doors, he steps in, filling the small space in front of me. I stare at his back, pretending not to be affected by this new turn of events. I only hope he doesn’t notice my skin starting to perspire alarmingly.

“To answer your question, Miss Petersen, I care because I don’t like to see women hurt.” The words are blunt, honest and straightforward, but they cut right to the heart of my soul.

Old memories bounce to the surface, while we ride down all ten floors. I can’t bring myself to look at him, and the feeling is mutual apparently since he is staring straight ahead at the doors. It’s disturbing, even to myself, that I want him to catch my desirous gaze in the mirrors, but his eyes never deviate.

When the doors open at the lobby, he gently places his hand on the small of my back, and yet again, the powerful current runs through me as soon as his skin connects with mine. I want to run and hide, but he keeps his hand firmly in place, leaving me with nowhere to turn. A small shiver runs through my limbs, and I bite down on my lip. I can’t let him see how much he affects me, so I endeavour to compose myself the best I can and hold my head high.

Proceeding through the lobby in silence, there are more people down here now. I glance over to the rude man on reception, noting the look of shock on his face when he sees Sloan’s hand on my back.

Who the hell is this guy?

Chancing a peek at him, he exudes confidence like I have never seen before. His demeanour could even be classed as bordering on arrogance. I stare, captivated until his eyes lock with mine. I quickly turn, knowing I have been well and truly caught.

The front doors are opened for us, and the doorman tilts his head at Sloan in acknowledgement. The cold, icy night air assaults my senses, and I shiver as the wind chill picks up, and an unforgiving breeze wraps around my uncovered, naked arms. Sloan drops his head down to me with a knowing smirk. Clearly seeing my aversion to the cold, he removes his jacket and wraps it around me.

“Thanks,” I say, holding it over my shoulders, acutely embarrassed that I am silly enough not to bring a coat and that he feels obliged to take care of me. I have no right to ask him to care and I sure as hell don’t want him to. I had already made my thoughts on that subject known to him upstairs.

Walking towards Sloan’s driver, I notice a porter getting into my car, which is still parked at the front entrance – with my keys still in the ignition. The porter then comes over, takes the car key off the ring and hands the rest back to Sloan. I watch the man walk back to my car, as Sloan folds my flat keys into my palm, clamping his over mine for longer than necessary. Thanking him, I climb into the limo, and he bends down to eye level, his face is now softer looking, and he even appears to be smiling a little.

“Your car will be here for you when you come to collect it.” He reaches out his hand and lightly brushes my cheek. A shiver ripples through me again, and I can no longer deny that I feel something. He closes his eyes slowly, appearing to absorb the moment, but when he opens them again, his expression is back to firm and stoic, and his jaw is tight. He closes the limo door, still looking past the darkened windows and straight into me.

The car pulls out onto the street, and I’m compelled to look back. I stare at him, in all his beautiful, muscular, perfection, as he stands tall and proud outside the entrance, watching as we drift further away.

I let out a long overdue sigh and lean over to Sam, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. She fucks up – a lot – but I love her like a sister. She lets out a content sigh, and I stare into the privacy screen numbly. Pulling the jacket around my body, I sniff the exquisite fabric longingly. He does smell good, but this feels far from good.

I know from the horrors of my past that the only person I can rely on in this world is myself, and this, whatever it might have been, would only have led to pain and destruction.

Or maybe it would have been something else entirely? Something amazing, something I deserve, perhaps?

What on earth am I thinking? I have nothing to compare anything to! But what I wouldn’t give to feel his hands on me, just once more…

Or his lips on mine…

I slowly close my eyes and savour the image. My brain is bombarded with visions of Mr Foster, his beautiful blue eyes and strong, muscular body. My imagination is now running away with me, as I think of all the things I really want to do to him. I don’t even know where half of this is originating from, considering my self-imposed celibacy. All I know is that I shouldn’t be having these kinds of thoughts, yet I’m unable to reign in the sensations that he has helped to restore life to inside me.

Leaning back into the supple leather seat, I put my hands in the pockets to warm them. My fingers connect with something stiff and square. I tentatively pull it out and realise he has discreetly given me back his business card. I chortle; the arrogant swine knew exactly what he was doing when he brought his jacket with him.

Years and years of building myself up, and hardening my emotions, have just wilted spectacularly in the space of less than an hour. All because a man, a beautiful, mercurial man, has just entered my stratosphere. I flip the small card through my fingers, tracing my thumb across the black embossed letters and numbers.

I can feel my world tilting into the unknown already.

I knew tonight was going to be bad.

And I am definitely in trouble.

Author Bio

Elle was born and raised in Yorkshire, England, where she still resides.

After many years of putting aside her creative ideas, in 2012, she was inspired to write again. The surprising result was her debut, contemporary romance novel, Fractured. The first of the series, books two and three, Tormented and Liberated, followed in close succession, along with the accompanying novella, Aftermath.

A self-confessed daydreamer, she loves to create strong, sexy and diverse characters, cocooned in opulent yet realistic settings that draw the reader in with every twist and turn until the very last page.

A voracious reader for as long as she can remember, she is never without her beloved Kindle. When she is not absorbed in the newest release or a trusted classic, she can often be found huddled over her laptop, tapping away new ideas and plots for forthcoming works.
Author links:

http://ellecharles.com/

https://www.facebook.com/elle.charles

https://www.instagram.com/elle.charlesauthor/

https://twitter.com/ellecharles

https://www.bookbub.com/profile/elle-charles

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8191613.Elle_Charles