Raine Delight's Blog, page 2

Meet author Nolwynn Ardennes

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Hello beautiful people. I’m The?Girl. Yeah, I know – cryptic name. When you know that my job is asking questions and when you figure out that I stop at nothing to get my answers… Well, let’s just say I try my best to give an entertaining piece and interview when I tackle one.

Today my victi— uh, guest is Jane Smithers, the heroine from Storms in a Shot Glass. She’s sitting right next to me, her long black hair loose and free, her face tense and guarded. So here we go – trying to know this young woman a little better.

The?Girl: So, Jane, tell me a little about you.

Jane: I’m twenty-nine, British born and bred, and I’m the personal assistant of a bank CEO.

She evades the very thing I want her to touch upon.

The?Girl: And you’re single?

Jane: Yes.

The?Girl: But? I hear a but coming here.

Jane (shrugs): There’s nothing more to say.

The?Girl: Are you sure?

One thing I know is that no one is ever without a story to tell. What’s Jane’s story?

I get a big hint at the answer when Jane suddenly pales and looks over my shoulder. I turn to see what has caught her attention in such a drastic manner, and whoa mama!

There’s a hunk of a man coming towards us. From the determined long steps to the tensed jaw, everything in this Greek-God-like fellow screams purpose.

Hmm, totally my sort of man. My gaze darts back to Jane, and I notice how the tip of her tongue comes out to moisten her lips.

I tell ya – there’s a story there. And I’ll do my best to get it.

He stops next to our sofas on the veranda, his dark, intense gaze boring into Jane.

“Reporters,” he says softly. “You’re speaking to bloody reporters.”

The?Girl: Dah-ling, I’m not a reporter.

He trains his midnight gaze on me, and man, would I want to see those eyes in the bedroom. The man all but oozes sensuality and the promise that he knew how to give a woman a good time.

As I keep watching him, it dawns on me who he is. I nearly fall out of my seat – for there before me, stands Michael Rinaldi, one of the richest men and most eligible bachelors in the whole of England.

And he and Jane seem to know each other… What’s their story?

The?Girl: Will you join us, Mr. Rinaldi?

Jane: No!

Michael (narrowed gaze): Why not?

He now seems completely oblivious to me. Watching the battle of wills between the two, as well as feeling the thick, sensual and sultry tension that seems to tie them up, I cannot help but think there’s more than meets the eye where this couple is concerned.

The?Girl: You know each other?

Silence greets my question, Jane looking at him, he staring right back, their eyes apparently speaking a language of their own that I couldn’t decipher. Damn!

The?Girl: People…?

He turns towards me, and I am taken aback by the seriousness and intensity on his features. A glance at Jane shows she could be on the verge of fainting.

Michael: Jane is expecting my baby.

Leaving me still reeling with the shock – these two knew each other that well? – he tugs on Jane’s hand and pulls her out of the sofa. Then with his arm around her waist, he all but propels her out of the shaded terrace and away from me.

I blink.

One of the biggest catches in London is going to have a baby with a woman no one suspected he even knew.

Damn – what was the story behind all this?

 

To find out, come check out Storms in a Shot Glass, a novel by Nolwynn Ardennes and released by Eirelander Publishing on January 8, 2010.

Buy Link: http://www.eirelander-publishing.com/stormsinashotglass.htm

Blurb:

A little bump is about to cause a lot of ripples…

Personal Assistant Jane Smithers needs a baby as much as she needs the immature boss, bitchy mother and lunatic Russian models who cohabit peacelessly around her. What she also doesn’t need is a man who pops out of nowhere, intent on taking over her accidental pregnancy. 

Cold logic and hard facts rule the world of millionaire corporate lawyer Michael Rinaldi. Until he meets Jane, and the insignificant-looking woman plunges him head first into the churning waters of tempestuous emotion and hot-blooded impulse.

Unlikely feelings crop up at the same time relentless gossip escalates. Both realize their respective world has irredeemably changed. The question is – will they be able to live with this reality?

 Excerpt:

Jane looked up from the papers strewn in front of her when she heard the ‘ding’ of the lift. Who could it be? Umberto had no meetings scheduled before two o’clock. She glanced at her watch and saw it was nearly noon. At the same time, the growl of her stomach reminded her it was lunchtime. She had yet to eat anything since the smoothie she’d had for breakfast.

The metal doors slid open and a man stepped into the room as soon as the opening was wide enough for him to pass through. Her pen slipped from her grasp as she contemplated him.

He was dressed in an expertly tailored dark grey suit, the slacks hinting at long legs while the coat hugged his massive chest. He had broad shoulders and was tall, around six-three she’d bet.

Her gaze travelled to his face and she sucked in a breath. He was very handsome, his skin a light golden tone and hair dark as the mahogany wood in the room. His wide jaw was clamped shut, reducing his mouth to a thin slash.

He was also very angry; she could almost sense the heated vibes radiating off him, and this impression was confirmed when she saw his eyes. Deep set and dark, the fire in them was emphasized by the way his thick eyebrows met due to his frown.

He wasn’t someone to cross; this she knew as her mouth opened and she exhaled a small puff of air.

In a few strides, he crossed the room and came to stand before her desk. Jane had to crane her neck to gaze at his face. The walls seemed to close in on her as she took in the powerful shape of him, reducing her world to an airtight bubble where only she and this man existed.

“May I help you?” she croaked, running the tip of her tongue over her dry lips.

He watched her for long seconds. His eyes darted to the nameplate on her desk before he trained the full force of his midnight gaze on her face again.

“You sure will, Jane.”

His voice was low and the husky sound strummed in her whole body.

“He’s in?”

Jane snapped out of the fog. “I beg your pardon?”

He clamped his mouth, a nerve twitching in his cheek and offsetting his square jaw even more.

“You and I will have a little talk. Later, though,” he added as he turned towards the door to her boss’s office.

“Sir, wait.”

She should have saved her breath, for he was already stepping into the office. Jane shot out of her chair and made it to the threshold just as the sickening grind of a punch resounded.

“You stay away from her,” she heard the stranger say.

Oh no. What she’d dreaded had happened. Umberto had gotten embroiled with the wrong woman and now the jealous husband or boyfriend was here to bust his arse. Reluctant competence flowed through her when she realized she would have to bail her boss out of this predicament.

“What’s going on here?” she asked as she purposefully strode into the room.

“Stay out of this,” the stranger said.

Jane stopped in her tracks, startled by the sight before her. Umberto stood, his palm cradling his nose and mouth. He’d probably received a fist in his face. She shook her head before glancing at the other man in front of him. Both of them turned towards her at the same time.

The staggering realization hit her at that moment. The two males were of the same height, with the same build. Even their faces looked alike, from the wide jaw to the dark, deep-set eyes.

It was like seeing a before and after picture, with some twenty years between the images.

Jane’s mouth dropped open. “Michael.” The name rolled off her tongue and escaped her lips, a soft moan losing itself in the thick silence surrounding them.

This was the first time she was seeing Umberto’s son face-to-face. What woman in London hadn’t heard of him? The very eligible, very handsome, very rich and very powerful corporate lawyer. He had seemed to be the embodiment of a ruthless legal shark on the pictures and pages of the British tabloids, but the reality was even more breathtaking.

She had also heard about him through his father, so much that she seemed to know the man already. Many a time, Umberto let slip some information about his estranged son. The yearning and the pain in his tone when he said Michael’s name hurt her heart every time.

Michael watched her now with eyebrows drawn together. Her gaze left his breathtaking features for Umberto’s. The older man cursed and removed his hand from his face. Blood covered his mouth and palm, and more of the thick, ruby liquid seeped from his nose when he released the pressure on his wound.

Jane knew she wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of blood again after the episode at the doctor’s practice earlier. At the gory sight, everything inside her plummeted, leaving her head light and spinning. Her stomach churned and a wave of cold washed over her. Belatedly, she realized her legs were crumbling under her, but she was powerless to do anything to break her fall.

A pair of strong arms grabbed her, clenching her upper body while she was pulled reflexively to the solid, warm expanse of a broad chest. Her head landed in the crook of an elbow and she felt the steady beat of a heart against her shoulder.

Jane let go of her hold on the soft fabric of his jacket when he deposited her on a plush settee in the office. With her lids tightly shut, she concentrated on letting the spinning feeling ebb away. When the world finally stabilized, she opened her eyes. Her gaze landed on the concerned expression of the man who knelt by her side.

Worry transformed Michael’s face. She couldn’t explain how exactly, but right then he was a million of miles from the angry man who had walked into her office a few minutes ago. There was almost something soft on his chiseled features now.

“Jane? You okay?” His voice was low and concerned.

She blinked and nodded.

“What was that about? Are you sick?”

Again, in his midst, the world seemed to reduce itself to the two of them. Jane blamed the weird feeling on her erratic hormones, and this made her remember her condition. “It’s nothing. I’m not sick. I’m pregnant.”

He blinked, as if coming out of a spell too, before nodding. “We need to talk, you and I. Not here, though.” His voice was gentler now, and Jane could only nod her assent.

“Can you get up?”

She braced her hands on the armrests and pushed herself off the seat. Her head felt light again, but she managed to keep her balance.

Lifting her eyes, she noticed her boss. Concern grabbed her and she went to him. The sight of all the blood on him made her queasy but the sick feeling was obliterated by her distress at seeing him like this. “Oh my God. Umberto? Are you all right?”

He sat on the edge of his desk, his bloody hand back to cradling his nose.

“Let me see that,” she said upon taking a deep breath. As much as she was repulsed by the gore, she had to be sure he was fine. Her hand went to the tissue box on the sideboard and she pulled a handful out, using them to dab at the blood.

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“Bloody hurts,” he groused and tried to move his face away from her when she attempted to wipe his upper lip.

Jane brushed his evasive tactics aside. “Try to smile.”

His eyes grew wide. “You mad?”

“Just smile, will you? If you manage to do so, it means the nose cartilage isn’t broken.”

“He’s fine,” Michael’s voice growled behind her.

“Yeah, like hell,” she muttered as she turned in his direction. “You’ve caused enough trouble already, so stay out of this now.”

Both men remained silent. Satisfied to have won a few minutes of calm, for she knew a storm was brewing, Jane went into the adjoining bathroom and came back with a wet hand towel. Michael was gone and she shrugged, going back to Umberto to clean his wound.

“Jane,” he said. “You know Michael?”

“No.”

“Did I hear that right? You’re pregnant?”

She sighed. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jane paused and looked at him straight. “It’s complicated. I just found out, and I’ll tell you about it later, okay?”

Umberto didn’t press for more information. Relieved, Jane returned to her careful ministrations.

When all the blood was gone, she was satisfied to see only dark red swelling on his nose. Making an ice pack with cubes from the mini bar and another towel, she left Umberto with the cold compress on his face and went back to her desk to grab a couple Paracetamols for him.

Jane nearly did a double take when she saw Michael casually seated in one of the plush couches of the waiting room. What was he still doing here? He didn’t bother to glance her way, his dark head not lifting, enthralled as he seemed to be with his PDA.

After giving Umberto the tablets and closing the door softly behind her, she returned to her desk.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Michael get up and stroll her way. He stopped at the edge of the table, but she didn’t look up at him.

“I suppose in your condition you have to eat lunch. Let’s go out.”

She raised her eyes up his tall frame. “Thanks, but no thanks.” This guy was nothing but a bully. Look what he had done to poor Umberto. Granted, she’d known it was a very bad idea for her boss to get entangled with his ex-wife again, but did that mean his son had to come in and punch him in the face? That sort of behavior was fit for the primary school playground. Not lunch time in The City.

“Jane.” His voice carried a slight growl again. “You and I have to talk.”

“I doubt that.” She had nothing to discuss with the likes of him.

His gaze narrowed. “Don’t push me.”

She returned an equally narrowed gaze at him. “What is it you want? Haven’t you proved your point by punching your father back there?”

“That was between me and him.” He pressed open palms on the desk in front of her before he leaned forward until his face was inches away from hers. “Now it’s between me and you.”

Jane parted her lips, but no words came out of her mouth. All her thoughts were scrambled by the close proximity of her body with this hunk’s magnetic persona. Michael Rinaldi had his father’s Mediterranean charisma in spades too, and he didn’t even need to smile for it to weave its spell on those physically close to him.

“Lunch,” he said.

Jane frowned. This sounded too easy. “What’s the catch?”

He didn’t reply but gave her a slow, lazy grin.

“Please,” he said softly, his warm breath caressing her face.

She blinked, but couldn’t break the spell. And that’s how she found herself a few minutes later in the underground car park of the bank, stepping into a sleek, black Mercedes sports car.

When Michael slid in the driver’s seat next to her, her gaze landed on his hard profile. The sight of him and the overall impression of the car made her think of the dark, dangerous, and Gothic world of underground superheroes. Michael reminded her of a hardened character in a graphic novel, and his car resembled a modern version of the vehicle such an urban hero would use to zip through the darkened streets of the town.

In the comic books however, she recalled, the superhero or the masked lawman spelled bad news for any woman who crossed his path – the women always lost their heart and more to the impassive heroes hell bent on doing their duty.

What was she going to lose?