Read an Excerpt
Print: January 25, 2011
eBook: February 2011
Heart Series Book 2
Angels don't always have halos...
Angeline Hunter ran from a horrific marriage, to start her life again in a small town in Wyoming, away from the Mormon life she had escaped in Utah. She didn't want to fall in love, or even fall in like, with a man like Samuel Carver. He was too nice, too normal, and far out of the reach for a woman who lived each day in a lie.
Sam Carver had hair the color of midnight and eyes darker than pitch—the eyes of a man who’d seen too much. But he couldn’t get enough of the mysterious, ethereal beauty who had turned up in his little Wyoming town, working at the Blue Plate, keeping to herself.
He knew Angeline Hunter was running scared, pursued by a fanatic who threatened her life. But no matter what it took, Sam would convince his angel to put her trust in him, to put the painful past behind her and learn just how pleasurable the present could be….
Also In this Series:
"…an exciting post Civil War romance that brings to life rural Wyoming. The story line is fast-paced with a delightful flawed lead couple struggling with their feelings."
— 5 Stars, Harriett Klausner, Genre Go Round Reviews
— Publisher’s Weekly
"When you want a heartfelt western romance, Restless Heart is the perfect story to read."
— 5 Kisses, Two Lips Reviews
"A wonderful story that you will want to read again and again."
— 4 1/2 Stars, Affaire de Coeur Book Reviews
"A sweet and sensual Western in which the heroine discovers her inner strength with the help of a delightfully sexy hero."
— Angela Knight, New York Times bestselling author
"Emma Lang's fresh voice takes readers on a thrilling, sexy journey into the Old West, where hot passion and perils run high. Don't miss this one!"
— Denise A. Agnew, award-winning author of MALE CALL
"With a fresh voice and engaging characters, Emma Lang's RESTLESS HEART kept me reading late into the night."
— Tina Leonard, Bestselling Author
"Emma Lang is always on my must-read list."
— Cynthia Eden, award-winning Kensington author
"Emma Lang writes the western romance as is should be written, with passion and heart!
— Lucy Monroe, National Best Selling Author
Sam cleaned up and dressed, telling himself he was hungry for breakfast and not hungry for Angeline. Oh, how he lied.
The morning air was a light caress on his face as he walked toward the Blue Plate. A low mist hovered over the ground as he walked through town. The sun peeked over the horizon, not yet fully up enough to burn off the chill in the air. Spring was rearing its head, finally, judging by the fact the dew had not frozen.
If spring was just around the corner, it meant he would get more work and maybe his father could sell the newspaper business. He was having more bad days than good and Sam knew it was only a matter of time before his father would have to be watched all the time. For that, Sam needed money. All of that meant, he’d have less funds to spend at the restaurant, not to mention less time.
When he arrived at the Blue Plate, instead of heading inside to eat, he found himself walking around to the back. To where he’d first seen Angeline reading on the steps back in October. A lifetime ago it seemed. He didn’t know what compelled him to walk back there, but when he did he found Angeline gathering wood from the pile without a coat.
“Angel, what are you doing? You’ll freeze to death.” He took the wood from her as she stared at him, her nose red from the cold.
His arm brushed her breast, earning a surprised yelp from her and an instant hard-on from him. Her scent washed over him, feeding his arousal, making him nearly careen out of control.
He leaned toward her, the wood forgotten, the coolness of the air a distant memory. She licked her lips, the nip in the air making them a darker pink. Sam moved as if in a daze, his body buzzing with only one thought.
His blood thrummed through his body and he swore the air between them crackled as he came within an inch of being pressed up against her. She sucked in a short breath, her blue gaze as wide as the sky above.
Against his will, with his mind screaming for him to stop, Sam leaned forward and kissed her. Oh God, her lips were softer than anything he’d ever felt in his life. She tasted of coffee, of woman, of an angel’s sweetness. He brushed her lips again, their breaths mingling in the cold air in a small poof of whiteness.
Sam groaned and stepped back, this time it was his body howling in agony. His erection hammering against the buttons that held it back.
What the hell had he just done?
Angeline shivered and licked her lips again. “What did you call me?”
Sam stopped, completely flummoxed by her question. He expected her to slap him, kick him in the balls or at least turn and leave him standing there like the idiot he was. “I don’t know. What did I call you?”
“You called me Angel.” She shook her head slowly. “Believe me, I am no angel, Samuel.”
He needed to apologize, but didn’t know how. Sam wasn’t used to the softer things in life. A warrior at heart, he could hardly bear not taking this woman to his bed. He wanted her with the heat of a thousand suns.
“You look angelic to me. And please, call me Sam.”
Was that the best he could do? Moron.
“Don’t let the outside fool you. Nothing about me is angelic.” She backed up toward the stairs and stumbled.
Sam grabbed her by the elbow and she gasped, her gaze again slammed to his. He wanted to gasp too. Touching her sent a jolt through him unequaled in his life. As if a bolt of lightning had come down from the clear sky and slammed into them. Every hair on his body stood on end.
Her mouth opened and she scrambled to her feet, apparently eager to stop touching him. Sam rubbed his hands together to prevent him from reaching for her again. He didn’t necessarily believe in the gods or the spiritual teachings of his mother, at least what he could remember of them.
Yet, the gods in their wisdom had obviously made this woman to be his other half, the white to his black, his mate. There could be no other explanation.
“I have to get back to work. Marta will be wondering what happened to me.” Her voice was strong, but he heard a slight tremble nonetheless.
“Let me bring in the wood for you.”
She hesitated and Sam didn’t blame her. “All right, come in then, Sam.”
His name on her lips send a shiver through him that had nothing to do with the cold, and had everything to do with the arousal already coursing through him. He filled his arms with wood and stepped into the warm kitchen. Marta stood before the stove frying bacon. When she spotted him, her brows went up.
“You don’t look much like Daniel.” She chuckled. “Thank you for helping Angeline. I’m not sure where that boy has gotten to.”
Sam put the wood in the bucket beside the stove. “More?” He directed the question to Marta, unable to look at his angel without dropping to his knees to beg for one hour in her bed.
“Another armful would be perfect. Thank you, Sam.” She winked at him and inclined her head toward Angeline who was currently scrubbing her hands in the wooden sink.
Sam wanted to press himself against her, feel the softness of her ass as it cradled his hard dick. He wanted to cup her breasts and pinch her nipples until they budded beneath his fingers.
If he wasn’t careful he might embarrass himself in front of Marta, then Pieter would try to kick his ass. Shaking off the urgency of his apparently uncontrollable lust for Angeline, Sam went back out into the cold. He sucked in a lungful of cold air, then filled his arms one more time with wood.
This time when he came back in the kitchen, only Marta was there. Disappointment tasted like ash on his tongue.
“Oh, don’t be discouraged, young man. She’s got no family to speak of except for Lettie, and I think she’s a cousin or an aunt. There’s no one to protect that girl, and I think someone hurt her already.” Marta shook a wooden spoon at him. “You behave yourself and no more sneaking kisses.”
Unbelievably, Sam’s cheeks heated. “I didn’t sneak.”
“No but you took without asking. She’s a bit flustered but lucky for you, not angry. I’d say it’s a good start, even if you did flub the first kiss.” Marta nodded sagely. “Mark my words, she’s never shown a speck of interest in a man before. You, Samuel Carver, are just what she needs.”
Sam grinned at her predictions. If she was right, then he had a chance even if he did make a mistake. However, the kiss itself was no mistake. He’d spend many a moment reliving the feel of her lips against his.
It would only get better from here.