Novels by Tamara Knox

ARIANAHer words settle between us. Simple, plain, but real."I blamed you for things that were never your fault. I judged you before I ever gave myself the chance to know you properly."I fold my arms as she lets out a slow breath."When Maxwell married you, I convinced myself you were temporary. Just another arrangement Victor forced onto the family.""And that made it acceptable?""No." She shakes her head immediately. "No, it didn't."The sincerity in her voice irritates me more than defensiveness would have. Because anger is easier."I watched my son disrespect you," she continues quietly. "And instead of stopping him, I excused him. I minimized what he was doing because I kept thinking..."She stops."Thinking what?""That eventually he'd come to his senses and everything would sort itself out."A bitter laugh escapes me. "Interesting definition of sorting itself out."Pain flashes across her face. She accepts the hit. "I deserve that.""Yes. You do."Molly's eyes drift toward t

ARIANAThe feeling wasn’t the frantic, desperate pulse I’d felt with Maxwell; this was steadier, deeper, and somehow more dangerous because it felt safe.Then his hands slowed and stopped. I feel his breath against the back of my neck, a faint heat that made my skin prickle."Aria."I turn slightly to look at him over my shoulder. His eyes drop briefly to my mouth, and mine follow the same involuntary pull.Outside, the twins keep laughing while sunlight spills through the open doors behind us. His fingers brush lightly against my jaw, turning my face toward him fully now."Aria," he murmurs again.I move first, pressing my lips to his. Maybe because I'm tired or maybe because he looks at me like I'm something precious instead of something convenient. Or maybe because somewhere along the line, loving him stops feeling terrifying.His hand slides into my hair, fingers tangling softly as he kisses me back slowly, his tongue tracing my lips before slipping inside, deeply, like he isn't

ARIANAFive days after the disaster they now call Sunday dinner, my life finally starts settling back into something almost peaceful.Almost.The twins are in the garden behind the house, chasing bubbles while the afternoon sun paints gold across the grass. Their laughter drifts through the open glass doors and into the living room, warm and loud and alive.It still amazes me sometimes how, after everything, after Maxwell, the lies, and the years of feeling unwanted. I somehow end up here.Durrell stands behind me, his hands pressing into my shoulders while I sit curled sideways on the couch with my laptop balanced on my thighs."You're tense," he says."I'm working.""You've been saying that for four hours.""I have deadlines.""You have problems."I shoot him a look over my shoulder. "Excuse me? Says the person who's been walking around like he has something on his mind."For a brief second, something flickers across his face. That same distant look he's worn since the night he came

DURRELLSomething shifts behind his eyes as the insult lands where I meant it to.His hands curl into fists again. "If I want you out of the picture, all it takes is a phone call from me."I stop mid-step and turn around. "Say that again.""You heard me." His voice hardens. "I have people. People who can make problems disappear. You think because we're family, you're untouchable?"I set my glass down and walk back toward him.My voice drops, low and quiet. The kind that makes people lean in without meaning to."You don't want to start a war you can't finish, Max. There are people who answer my calls before the phone even finishes ringing. Connections you can't even touch." I pause. "If I wanted to destroy you, I could. And there wouldn't be anything left for anyone to bury."Maxwell stares at me.His mouth opens and closes. I see the calculation behind his eyes, the same one I've watched him make a thousand times since we were boys. He's trying to figure out if I'm bluffing. Trying to

Maxwell walks into the VIP lounge of my bar like he still owns everything his eyes touch, with the same look he's been carrying since the divorce settled on his shoulders like a weight he can't shake off.My friends notice him before I do, and immediately the laughter at our table fades, and someone mutters something I don't catch.I set down my drink.He doesn't sit but just stands at the edge of the table with his hands in his pockets, looking down at me like he has already decided how this conversation ends."You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?"I lean back in my chair. "It's a public bar. You can order a drink, or you can leave. Makes no difference to me.""I'm not here to drink.""Then say what you came to say and go." I pick up my glass again. "You're killing the mood."His jaw works beneath the skin as the muscle jumps the way it always does when he's trying to hold himself together. Then he leans forward, palms flat on the table, and drops his voice low enough tha

SELENEPosters on the wall, and books on the shelf. The ghost of the girl I used to be, before Maxwell, before Ariana, before all of it.I lie down and stare at the ceiling.Then my phone buzzes. I look at it.MAXWELL: ‘I'm sorry.’I stare at the words. Three minutes later, another message.MAXWELL: ‘I'm sorry for all of it.’I don't respond. What would I say? *I forgive you?* *I hate you?* *I wish I'd never met you?* None of that is true.So I set the phone down and close my eyes.Minutes later, I hear a soft knock. My mother pushes the door open without waiting for an answer. She sits on the edge of the bed.For a long moment, neither of us speaks."So," she says finally. "He chose her.""He didn't choose anyone. He just... can't let go.""He's a fool."I almost laugh. "Yes.""But you're not." She looks at me. "You gave him everything. You waited. You stayed. You played the game exactly the way I told you to. And still, he wouldn't dance."I don't say anything.She reaches over and