Title: Her Knight in Shining Armour
Author: Robyn Rychards
Genre: Sweet Romance
Publisher: Harper Collins Australia Escape Publishing
Book Blurb:
She may not need a knight in shining armour to save her, but that doesn't mean she's going to look a gift knight in the visor...
Paisley doesn't need a knight in shining armour to rescue her from her high–powered, abusive ex-husband. She's got it covered on her own: she's changed her name, liquidated her assets, and has a plan to disappear in the Rocky Mountain National Park.
Psychiatrist Sterling James has absolutely no intention of being anyone's saviour. The only woman he has any time for is his sister. But circumstances change when Sterling finds Paisley in an unexpected and life-threatening situation. Brought in to the drama of her escape, Sterling finds himself invested, and he can't move on until he knows Paisley is going to be safe.
It should be a simple enough exercise to get Paisley out of the park and into her new life. But nothing is ever as simple as it should be, and Sterling soon discovers that even if her ex-husband buys the set–up, he might not be able to watch Paisley go...
Excerpt:
A tendril of her hair had gotten stuck to the edge of her mouth and she was floored again at his gentleness as he brushed it away with his finger — and the devastating half smile and raised eyebrow he treated her to.
‘Seriously, though, I need to know what you remember. Do you know your name?’
‘Of course I know my name. It’s Lee — Paisley Vitale.’
He raised that eyebrow again. Her heart stuttered and pounded just a tad harder. Then she made the mistake of looking at his eyes. Eyes the color of tree bark. Deep brown overlaid with gray, making her momentarily forget everything but the most unique eyes she’d ever seen fringed with ridiculously long lashes.
Something flickered in his eyes. Something that made her stomach give a nervous twist. And it had nothing to do with the physical impact he was having on her.
‘Welcome to my humble abode, Lee-Paisley Vitale,’ he told her with a twinkle in his eye that made her suspicious. ‘I’m Sterling James.’
She blew out her breath in annoyance — with herself and him. ‘Just Paisley, no Lee. I’m guessing I hit my head.’
‘Yes, among other things.’
‘If I admit I can’t remember anything beyond hiking half a day in the rain before giving up, will you tell me what’s going on.’
‘You haven’t lost much time. It was raining yesterday.’
Suddenly she realized something. A feeling of foreboding washed over her. She was wearing a man’s sweatshirt. Not what she’d been wearing last time she’d checked… And there was nothing on her legs. She may not be thinking too clearly but she knew she’d had pants on before. A stranger — a male one at that — had removed her clothes and replaced them with his. Nothing like things going from bad to worse. She jerked her legs in frustration and her entire backside rubbed painfully along the sleeping bag. And then they became even worse. She’d trashed her back too.
Through gritted teeth she asked, ‘What is going on here?’
At her question he went from kneeling at her side to sitting crossed-legged a couple of feet away. As far as he could reasonably go in the confined space.
‘The whole story or the abridged version?’
She narrowed her eyes at him. Could she trust a single thing he said? The fact he’d backed away from her, like he knew she wanted some breathing room, was promising. As was the expression on his face.
‘Better give me all of it. Including why I’m not wearing my own clothes.’
‘I’ll start with that to ease your mind. Not only did I have to remove them to tend to your injuries, they were soaked.’ He shrugged a shoulder. ‘Sorry I had nothing more to share with you than my sweatshirt.’
She closed her eyes and put her hand over them — the one that didn’t feel like it was going to fall off when she moved it. Of course. The last thing she remembered was being thoroughly soaked and exhausted. She would assume that was the truth. However…
‘Why didn’t you just use my extra set of clothes?’
‘Taking care of you had priority over retrieving your things from your tent. Once I’d taken care of you, I collected up your belongings.’
‘You know, though I appreciate your desire to make me feel better about being half-dressed in a strange man’s tent out in the middle of nowhere, what the hell happened?’
Okay so that half-smile, raised eyebrow thing he had down to an art made her heart do funny things, but for some odd reason it also made her feel like she could trust him. Which had her not trusting her own judgment. She ignored that little monster; it was more than she could cope with. She was so screwed right now, she had to trust him. Either that or go totally insane.
‘Let me preface this by saying, even though it sounds too crazy to be true, it’s exactly what happened.’
She drew her brows together in a frown. She didn’t like the sound of that. Though the painkillers he’d given her must be working because her agony was diminishing. Which helped in the clear-thinking department.
‘Save the drama.’
‘Paisley…’
The sound of her name on his lips skittered over her skin and raised goosebumps.
His eyes roamed her face and it struck her he was at a loss for words. He cleared his throat.
‘You stumbled out of your tent this morning, right into the path of a magnificent buck that was startled by a bear. He plowed you over, sent you flying into a tree and knocked you out. Left you with a whopper of a bump on the back of your head, a dislocated shoulder, a concussion and some gnarly scratches on your back.’
‘No wonder I feel like I’ve been run over by a semi.’ She hated being indebted to him. Independence. It was all about independence now. Hang on… ‘I’m calling us even though, since I provided you with your own private peepshow.’
‘Sounds like a fair trade.’ Uh oh, she didn’t like the sound of that. ‘And for the record, I behaved myself.’ His eyes darted away from her, leaving her feeling like he was hiding something — guilt?
Now she wasn’t sure which she wanted to know more; what had him looking guilty or what had happened to the bear. ‘So if you behaved yourself, why are you looking like you didn’t?’
‘Because I know you’re not going to like it when I tell you I’m a doctor.’
Why would she not like that? Considering the circumstances it worked in her favor. It was a good thing he knew what he was doing when he’d put her dislocated shoulder into place. ‘And this makes you feel guilty, why?’
He blew out a breath and ran his hand through his hair. Of course. It didn’t ruin his hairstyle. Perfect hair too.
‘I’m a psychiatrist.’
Yeah, not good.
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Author Biography
Robyn Rychards grew up in the granola bowl of the United States, Boulder Colorado, a town filled with fruits, flakes and nuts. She considers herself a Jack-of-all-trades-master-of-none and has taught herself to sew, paint, play the piano, garden, cook, the list goes on. But now that her books are published, she’s thrilled to finally be considered a master of one. At least as much as a person can be, for the learning never really stops.
She feels her active imagination is a blessing and a curse, with the blessing far outweighing the curse since it has led her to fulfill her dream of writing for Harlequin. Robyn started writing stories when she was a teenager because she didn’t have enough books to read. Sometimes she finds it hard to believe that people are willing to pay her to do something she enjoys so much, but mostly she’s happy to have such a wonderful excuse not to cook and clean. And a job that means you can stay in your jammies as long as you want? That’s priceless.
Social Media Links
Twitter: https://twitter.com/RobynRychards
Instagram: @robynrychards