TOO BEAUTIFUL TO BREAK Release Week Blitz Assets
ABOUT THE BOOK
Title: TOO BEAUTIFUL TO BREAK
Author: Tessa Bailey
Series: Romancing The Clarksons, #4
On Sale: September 26, 2017
Mass Market: $7.99 USD
eBook: $5.99 USD
A love of a lifetime . . .
Leaving Belmont Clarkson is the hardest thing Sage Alexander has ever done. From the moment they met, she knew Belmont was the one, and getting up close and personal with him on his family’s epic road trip has taken her desire to a new, even hotter level. But there’s no way she can go there—not without revealing secrets that could devastate them both.
Losing Sage is not an option. Belmont’s heart is hers, has always been hers. He knows she’s hiding something from him, but nothing will stand in his way of telling her just how much she means to him. Finding her is easy—saving her from her past could cost him everything.
TOO BEAUTIFUL TO BREAK excerpt
“You don’t have to leave right away,” Sage said when Belmont turned, watching her
from beneath his eyebrows. “Can you wait here while I take a quick shower?”
Maybe that hadn’t been the right thing to say. His big back heaved and the touch of his
tongue in her mouth came crashing in like a behemoth wave. They had crossed an unspoken
boundary on the train platform. There was no going back to before, to when they stopped at
rough, crushing embraces. As if that hadn’t been…more than sexual somehow.
“Yes, I’ll wait,” he said, his voice sounding like serrated metal. “I can light the fire for
I’ll say. God, why did everything sound like an innuendo now? If her body weren’t flush
and sweating beneath the jumpsuit, she would have laughed about it. But there was nothing
funny about having Belmont looming mere yards away, looking like one word of encouragement
would snap his chain and send him barreling toward her. “That would be perfect. I’ll just be…a
Sage all but dove into the itty-bitty bathroom, pressing her back up against the door and
willing her racing heart to calm down. Why had she asked him to stay? Her resolve would
weaken with every passing second. Biting down on her lower lip, she began the excruciating task
of lowering the zipper of her jumpsuit, which kicked up a protest in her triceps and shoulder
muscles. When she finally got it down, she gripped the hem of her T-shirt and attempted to lift it
over her head.
Her arms wouldn’t cooperate. They flat out wouldn’t rise any higher than her ribs,
leaving the T-shirt suspended in midair. Her muscles burned like someone had doused them in
lighter fluid and held them above a flame. Sage’s agony must have escaped in the form of a
whimper, because Belmont’s boots scraped just outside the door. And her stomach hollowed
with awareness, lightning racing all over her skin.
“Sage.” His voice was deep, urgent. “Do you need help?”
No. Say no. She’d only gotten finished reminding him she didn’t need him. But in this
case, it would be a lie and she’d done so much of that lately. With Belmont. The most truthful
person she knew. “I can’t get my shirt off.” Her nose started to ache, the tip probably turning red.
“My arms hurt.”
His growl was short and broken. A beat passed before the door opened and she felt
Belmont filling the doorway behind her. She flicked a glance up to the ancient mirror and
confirmed what she’d seen in her mind’s eyes. Belmont towering over her like an avenging
angel, outlined by candlelight. He’d taken off his coat, leaving him in a black long-sleeved shirt,
which he’d rolled up to the elbows. Every inch of visible skin was shot through with strained
cords of muscle, as if his frustration were written on him like a road map.
Sage still had the shirt halfway lifted, so her lower back was visible. Not a big deal to
most people. But Belmont had never seen anything below her neck. Or above her knees. With
the jumpsuit peeled halfway down, the band of her underwear might even be peeking out.
Breathing grew difficult as Belmont took one step closer and took hold of the T-shirt, his
knuckles grazing the small of her back. “You’re wearing”—his breath ghosted down her
Sage only realized she’d closed her eyes when they popped open. Oh God. In the shock
of Belmont arriving, she’d forgotten. “I am?” Her mouth was parched. “L-look at that.”
“I am looking.” She jumped when Belmont reached over her shoulder with his left hand
and turned on the shower, the sound of spray filling the room. Then the roughness of his
knuckles returned, sliding up her spine along with the shirt. “I like knowing there was a layer of
me standing between you and the earth.”
Her legs took on the consistency of Jell-O. His touch was a drug, making her languid,
although it was different than the way he usually touched her. There was sex this time. So much
of it. And it was that major difference that allowed Sage to accept the skimming of his fingers.
Accept the part of herself that lusted. They were in a dark room and time had surely suspended
anywhere outside this little plot of square footage. Words ached to leave her mouth, words that
wouldn’t be suitable in the sunlight. This man, so warm and brave and large at her back, knew
things about her no one else did. What was one more secret? “I stole it out of your suitcase. I
broke a commandment and everything.”
“Why?” He breathed into her hair, sinking heat like an anchor in her belly. The shirt
came off, her arms dropped to her sides, and she was left in nothing but a bra from the waist up.
Inches from Belmont. “Why, sweetest girl?”
A light steam had begun curling in the air like beckoning fingers. Maybe this is a dream.
It felt like one of the fevered fantasies she woke from on occasion, sweat slicking her breasts and
neck. “Because I like the way you smell and it hadn’t been washed.”
His exhale was gravelly. “Sage.”
She thought he might not respond, but finally he asked a question that made her nipples
turn to hard points. “Can you manage”—a long, windy inhale—“the bra?”
Sage tried. She really, truly did. Her arms felt as though they might break off and hit the
floor, but she reached back until her muscles locked up, refusing to move farther. But Belmont
was already there, pushing them back down, holding them at her hips.
BUY THE BOOK HERE
THE ROMANCING THE CLARKSONS SERIES
TOO HOT TO HANDLE, #1
TOO WILD TO TAME, #2
TOO HARD TO FORGET, #3
TOO CLOSE TO CALL, #3.5
TOO BEAUTIFUL TO BREAK, #4
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tessa Bailey is originally from Carlsbad, California. The day after high school graduation, she packed her yearbook, ripped jeans, and laptop, and drove cross-country to New York City in under four days. Her most valuable life experiences were learned thereafter while waitressing at K-Dees, a Manhattan pub owned by her uncle. Inside those four walls, she met her husband, best friend, and discovered the magic of classic rock, managing to put herself through Kingsborough Community College and the English program at Pace University at the same time. Several stunted attempts to enter the work force as a journalist followed, but romance writing continued to demand her attention.
She now lives in Long Island, New York with her husband and daughter. Although she is severely sleep-deprived, she is incredibly happy to be living her dream of writing about people falling in love.
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