Delaney Diamond's Blog, page 20

Still in Love: Episode 7

On Friday, we’ll chat about the story in the blog comments. Until then, I hope you enjoy this episode and the one that drops tomorrow!

Still in Love is a serial novel unfolding on my blog through the summer. If you missed an episode, click the links below to catch up.

Episode 1    Episode 2    Episode 3   Episode 4   Episode 5   Episode 6

BLURB

Three years ago, Nadine Alesini divorced her husband and left Buenos Aires with her daughter in tow. Now she’s back and forced to spend time with the man she left behind.

Cortez Alesini long ago accepted that his music career aided in the demise of his marriage. So he didn’t expect that he and Nadine would spend passionate nights together while she’s back in his country, causing them to question if they gave up too soon. But the reappearance of someone from his past immediately causes friction, and may destroy any chance they have at a true reconciliation.

Chapter Twelve

The SUV with Gustavo, his wife, and the other children pulled out the next morning after breakfast for the three hour drive back to the estancia.

Both Antonella and Gabriela suffered some muscle soreness from the accident, but for the most part they exhibited lots of energy, like typical girls their age. Nadine was impressed that the splint didn’t inhibit Antonella’s movements much at all.

Since the girls were fine, Cortez took them into town for lunch and a visit to the zoo. Nadine had plans as well. Joachim took her into the city where she met a friend for lunch that she’d kept in close contact with after she moved to Atlanta.

Catarina was in her early sixties, with fine lines on her face and hair died a glossy jet black, never marred by gray roots. Slender and chic, the older woman had become a close friend and confidante when they both taught at a local school—the job Nadine had found after she resigned from her position as an import/export consultant years ago.

Now retired, Catarina spent her days volunteering with various children’s charities. She’d once told Nadine that it was her way to give and receive the love that bonded children to adults since she’d never married and had children of her own.

After a leisurely lunch at an Italian restaurant, they strolled down Florida Street. The busy area was close to the financial district, and only open to pedestrian traffic. Nadine wanted to buy leather goods and gifts for family back home.

“So when are you coming to visit me in Atlanta?” Nadine teased, as they walked arm-in-arm. She’d been trying to get Catarina to come visit for the past couple of years.

“Why would I leave all of this?” her friend asked, waving her hand with a flourish at the street, teeming with pedestrians carrying bags and browsing for gifts. “And why are you buying souvenirs here? You know better. This place is for tourists!”

Nadine squeezed her friend’s arm. “I know I can get better deals elsewhere, but I like the energy here.”

Catarina cast a sidelong glance at her. “Are you ready to come home?”

“Atlanta is my home now, and you’re welcome to visit anytime. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

“You know I have no interest in going to the States.” Catarina sniffed.

“Not even for a short trip?”

She shrugged, a movement that looked decidedly elegant on her narrow shoulders. “Maybe a week. Maybe Alec would like to join me.”

She and Alec, Cortez’s longtime friend who’d gone to work for him at the record label, Musica Fuerte, had been lovers for almost ten years. They’d met through Nadine and Cortez, and their relationship had endured, despite the significant age difference.

“So you won’t come unless Alec comes?” Nadine paused to examine a yerba mate tea set that included a bag of the loose tea leaves, traditional hand-carved gourds, and a pot for hot water. The set would make a nice gift for her neighbor. She made a mental note to come back to this store.

“I like traveling with him. He takes care of everything.” Catarina laughed, the sound husky and mischievous.

“When are you going to marry him?”

“Maybe when he stops asking me.”

“Then it’ll be too late,” Nadine scoffed. “Are you saying you don’t want to get married?”

Catarina glanced sideways at her. “You were married before. What do you think? Would you do it again?”

They started walking.

“I enjoyed being married,” Nadine said.

“Why aren’t you anymore?”

“You know why. We couldn’t make it work.”

They strolled along in silence for a while, pausing long enough to toss change into the bowl of a couple of street performers dancing the tango.

“Alec says he no longer writes,” Catarina said.

“Who?”

“Cortez.”

Nadine stepped out of the way of a group of young tourists that rushed past. “No way. Cortez never stops writing music.”

When they were married, he must have written hundreds of songs. Some had been good enough to make the cut and onto his albums. Some had been filed away for one reason or another. Perhaps because he had another song that sounded too similar or another singer had released a similar sound and composition. Or, like all temperamental artists, he simply thought it wasn’t good enough.

“Alec says he hasn’t written anything in years.”

Years? Even when they’d discussed him starting the record company, he’d insisted he’d continue writing.

“He’s not alive if he’s not writing.” Of that she was certain.

“There is your answer,” Catarina said.

Nadine pulled up short.

“What are you saying?”

“Maybe he’s not alive.” Catarina raised an eyebrow. “When does he see Antonella?”

“He sees her.”

“Once a year.”

Nadine disengaged her arm. “Did Cortez put you up to this?”

Catarina’s eyes widened. “No.” Her friend seemed genuinely shocked by the accusation.

“He’s not the first parent to live apart from their child.”

“I am not accusing you of anything, but I see how he is when she comes to visit on her summer break. He is so different when they are together. I thought…perhaps a compromise could be reached.”

“He did put you up to this.” She found it hard to believe that it was only a coincidence that Catarina would broach the same topic that she and Cortez had discussed so recently.

“No, he did not,” Catarina insisted.

“To guilt me into leaving her.”

Catarina’s brow furrowed. “Not to leave her. But…have you considered coming back?”

“Why should I move back?” Nadine demanded. “Maybe Cortez should move to the States.”

“I am sorry. I have said too much, and I did not mean to upset you. I only know that Alec and I see how he is.” She took Nadine’s hand. “And of course I was sad to see you go and thought maybe you would return once you had the break you needed. I would love to have you come back, but I understand why you left and why you may never live here again.” She looped her arm through Nadine’s. “Come. No more of this talk. Only happy conversations for the rest of the day. Tell me about Atlanta. What is so great that Alec and I need to visit?”

Nadine let her friend pull her along. “Southern hospitality, to start.”

She went into a half-hearted description of the weather and the historic neighborhoods, but her heart was not really in the conversation any longer. Her thoughts were all about Cortez.

 

Chapter Thirteen

After the outing, Nadine returned to the house but didn’t immediately find any trace of Cortez or the girls and went upstairs to place the gifts in her room. Then she went to Antonella’s room and gently knocked. When there was no answer, she peeked in and saw the girls were already fast asleep in their individual beds. They were as inseparable as sisters.

With a satisfied smile, she went back to her room and changed out of her clothes. She took a quick shower before donning a comfortable loungewear outfit consisting of rose-colored pants with a drawstring and matching top. Sleep was the last thing on her mind. The conversation with Catarina, combined with Cortez’s suggestion—or threat, depending on how she chose to interpret his words—had given her much to think about.

In the kitchen, she took a cola from the refrigerator and was on her way up the stairs when she decided to change direction. Pausing, she listened to be sure she didn’t hear any activity nearby, and then walked quietly toward the back of the house.

She was curious about Catarina’s comments that Cortez hadn’t been writing music. The best way to find out the truth of that statement was to go to the home studio, his favorite room in the house—or at least it used to be.

Standing outside the door, she looked both ways down the hall before turning the knob.

Open.

She let herself in, but after such a long time, she felt like she was invading sacred, off limit turf, even though she’d been in there many times before. She eased the door shut and touched the control box near the door, illuminating the dark paneled walls with soft overhead lighting.

The studio consisted of two rooms—the control room and the isolation booth—both with dark paneled, soundproof walls. Not a single window existed in the space, allowing Cortez to be completely sealed off from distractions. Against the right wall of the control room, four electric guitars were lined up on stands. To the left was a keyboard and, directly in front of her, earphones, a computer, and the equipment he and his producer used to monitor and mix beats.

She used to sit on the tan sofa against the back wall and read quietly while he worked on his music. Or sometimes she simply watched him, admiring his dedication and tenacity. When he didn’t need to concentrate too much, she’d bring Antonella in the room with her, and he let her sit on his lap while he fiddled with the knobs and buttons. He had taught her to play the keyboard, and she’d continued piano lessons in the States. The teacher had been impressed by her innate ability to play by ear.

Testaments to Cortez’s talent over the ten years he’d been at the height of his singing career covered the wall above the sofa like wallpaper. They included Best Record, Best Album, and the various milestones in record sales—gold, platinum, and diamond. His ballads had won him the most accolades.

Nadine walked over to the keyboard set down her cola. She ran her fingers lightly over the keys, reminiscing about those days. Every now and again she’d be flattered when he’d ask her opinion about a lyric or a beat, but for the most part he stayed busy and worked hard. For her, simply being allowed to spend time with him in the room where he created had been sufficient.

When she heard a click behind her, she spun around to see Cortez standing in the door holding coffee in his hand, steam rising from the white cup. Guilt flared in her stomach, as if she’d been caught trespassing.

Surprised to see her, Cortez initially had a bewildered expression on his face, but then his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What are you doing in here?”

“I…was just curious.” She sounded as guilty as she felt, poking around in his sanctuary.

One eyebrow arched higher. “About what?”

She might as well come clean. “I was in town with Catarina today, and I was surprised when she told me that you were no longer writing.”

Without making much sound, he moved away from the door and it eased shut. He walked over to the table that contained the monitoring equipment and set down his cup of coffee.

“I suppose she heard that from Alec,” he surmised.

Nadine was very cognizant of every gesture he made, each turn of his head, the sound of his deep voice. As if every action had been magnified for the benefit of her senses.

“That’s what she said.” Nadine leaned against the keyboard and looked around the room. “Did you stop writing because you got behind a desk?”

“No.” He picked up a notepad on the table and stared down at the words written on the page.

She could have been put off by the shortness of his answer but refused to be. She had to know why he’d stopped doing something she knew he loved so much. “Then why?”

“I had my reasons.”

“So you’re never going to write again?” she prodded.

“I never said that.” Tension sang in the taut set of his shoulders. “I’m writing now.”

“Music?”

“Yes.”

“So Catarina was wrong.”

“Not quite. It’s true I haven’t written in a long time.”

“But you’re writing again? That’s wonderful, isn’t it? When did that start?”

He didn’t answer right away, and she had the distinct impression that he was debating whether or not to answer her at all. Finally, he looked at her. “Today.”

“Oh.” The way he looked at her—in that steady, measured way—sent heat rising in her neck. “When was the last time you wrote?”

“Three years ago.”

The admission and the dull sound of his voice pained her. When she’d taken away Antonella, he’d lost his desire to write.

With great effort, she tugged air into her lungs. “What prompted you to do so now?” she asked in a low voice.

Cortez flipped a few switches, and soft music spilled from the speakers. “What do you think of this?” he asked.

It was a melodious, haunting sound. “It reminds me of pain. Maybe even loss.”

“Longing. It’s called “Cuanto te amo.” How much I love you. He held up the notepad. “These are the words. You inspired them.”

“You mean Antonella.”

“No, Nadine. You.”

 

Chapter Fourteen

Nadine’s breath stopped. Her heart raced as she twisted Cortez’s statement around and over in her head, and still they didn’t make sense. “If this is some trick to try to convince me to let Antonella stay—”

He dropped the pad on the table. “This isn’t a trick.”

“Last night you told me you want her back, and today you tell me that you’re creating music again because of me. You have to admit, that sounds suspicious.”

There had been a time when he’d told her she inspired him to write his best work, but that had been a long time ago. Long before they’d turned on each other with petty arguments and long silences that drove them farther and farther apart.

“I am telling you the truth.”

“I don’t want you to make music about me.”

“My biggest hit—my greatest selling single was a song dedicated to you—about you.”

Mi corazón canta. My heart sings. An ode to how being near her made him feel. She made his heart sing. Maybe once, a long time ago, but not in the end.

“Whatever you’re doing, this can’t happen. You know—”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because what? We’re not done, Nadine. Didn’t you feel it when we kissed—the first time? The second time?” He tapped the notepad. “I wrote two songs already. They were going around and around in my head all day. I wrote one while the girls were in the pool, and I wrote the second after they ate dinner.”

“You wrote two songs. I’m happy for you, but our marriage ended three years ago. We ended.”

“You left me.”

“We left each other,” she flung back.

He shook his head. “I was still here.”

“Were you?”

The chiseled plane of his jaw flexed. “I never wanted you to leave.”

She laughed shrilly. “That is a damn lie and you know it. If you didn’t want me to leave, why was leaving even on the table?”

“I gave you the option of a divorce. I didn’t know you planned to leave the country.”

“Why would I stay here?”

“Why not? This was your home for years. Our daughter was born here.”

“Well, you didn’t exactly fight for us to stay, did you?” Nadine said.

Cortez took two deep breaths, his chest heaving up and down. “If I tried to make you stay, you would have resented me, and you were already so unhappy.”

“And apparently so were you,” Nadine said, the bitterness of his betrayal resurfacing on her tongue. “The minute I turned my back, you…”

“¿Qué? What did I do?”

“You and Fabiana made your relationship public!” A violent quiver of pain grabbed hold of her gut and twisted. The blonde German had been his favorite sound engineer when he was a performer. He claimed she was among the best, but Nadine had wondered if there was something more between them.

An angry glint filled his eyes. “I told you over and over again there was nothing going on between us. I liked her work. That is all.”

“I saw the pictures of you,” she hissed. “Not even a month after Antonella and I left the country, you were partying with her in Ibiza.”

Cortez averted his eyes and ran a rough hand through his hair. “I needed to get away.”

“With her?”

An angry frown creased his forehead. “She came, but so did Alec and the rest of Los Tigres.”

“They weren’t the ones wearing a tiny white bikini on the yacht, laughing and hanging onto you!” Her heart thundered against her chest so hard she wouldn’t be surprised if he heard it.

News about him hadn’t been easy to come by in the States. As far as Americans were concerned, he was a one-hit wonder with the English translation of Mi corazón canta, but in Latin America and Europe he’d been a superstar. So she’d searched for news about him online, and that’s when she’d found the pictures of him partying in Ibiza.

“Those photos were misleading,” Cortez said between clenched teeth.

“Those photos were revealing,” Nadine countered.

“You know how the press slants news stories to sell copies. How many times have magazine articles placed me in a particular restaurant or city on a specific date, when in fact you and I were together at the time? None of the rumors about other women were true. You know they weren’t true.”

“I hoped they weren’t,” she corrected.

His nostrils flared. “You’re making excuses because you were unhappy. I never once strayed in our marriage!”

Nadine acknowledged to herself that she had conjured all sorts of explanations once their marriage started to crumble. If she was hardly having sex with him, was he getting it somewhere else? It would have been so easy for him because of his celebrity status.

“I was hurting, after…” She touched her stomach as the pain attacked her anew. The period after the death of their son had been the longest of her life.

His gaze dropped to her stomach, and his shoulders seemed to lower a full inch, as if a heavy load had suddenly been dumped on them. “You think I did not hurt, too?”

“When?” she whispered in disbelief. “When were you hurting? When did you ever show any emotion? You closed off from me and buried yourself in work. I never had any inkling about what you were feeling.” Their conversations had devolved into monosyllabic interactions.

“Is that why you pulled away from me?”

“I never pulled away. You did. You hardly even touched me anymore.” But when he did, she went up in flames.

Cortez pushed away from the table and stepped closer, too close for comfort. “I still wanted you, but there were times when I thought you were simply doing your duty as my wife.”

Her eyes widened. “Did you think I was faking my orgasms?”

“I have no idea. I didn’t know what to think.”

“If you felt that way, why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you talk to me? You hid behind your work and your traveling and you left me all alone.”

“What should I have done?” he demanded. “Walked away from my music? It was the only way I knew to cope. It was important to me and there was a time when it was important to you, too. You were there, all along, supporting me. When I didn’t make any money, you supported us teaching English. We built all of this together.” He waved a hand to encompass the room.

She hefted a heavy breath past her lips. “I wanted to talk to you about…what was happening. But you worked harder. You did more shows, more studio sessions, more concerts. You never showed me you were hurt. You never showed me I could talk to you.”

“I asked you all the time how you were doing.”

“Over the phone—from a distance. From Bolivia. From Venezuela. From France. Sometimes I could hear fans partying in the background or women giggling and screaming. I wanted to see you. I wanted you to…hold me. Tell me it was going to be…okay.” Her voice cracked. “You never said a word. You never showed me that you cared.”

Cortez came closer. “So you thought the worst of me? That you married a cold, insensitive monster who didn’t care about anyone or anything but himself? Not even the death of his own child?”

She winced at such an ugly characterization, staring down at the floor. “No. I just wish you’d shown more emotion. I felt like I was grieving alone.” Pain throbbed in her voice.

The silence echoed around them, grating like an out of tune melody.

Nadine finally looked up at him, and her heart constricted at the raw emotion she saw etched in his features.

“The reason you never saw me grieve is not because I didn’t care,” he said quietly. “The reason you never saw me grieve is because…I was trying to be strong. For you.”

______________

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Filed under: Writing

Still in Love: Episode 6 – Surprise!

So last week I received a suggestion in the comments that I drop an episode of Still in Love in the middle of the week, and I thought, hmm…I can do that. But I decided to go one step further and I’m dropping THREE episodes this week.

These next two episodes you’ll get the full backstory about Nadine’s and Cortez’s relationship, and Friday is D-day, when they reconnect on a physical level. Thank you to everyone who has been sharing the story with friends, sharing your thoughts with me via email or social media, or leaving comments on the blog.

On Friday, we’ll chat about the story in the blog comments, as usual. Until then, I hope you enjoy the next three episodes today, tomorrow, and Friday!

Still in Love is a serial novel unfolding on my blog through the summer. If you missed an episode, click the links below to catch up.

Episode 1    Episode 2    Episode 3   Episode 4   Episode 5

BLURB

Three years ago, Nadine Alesini divorced her husband and left Buenos Aires with her daughter in tow. Now she’s back and forced to spend time with the man she left behind.

Cortez Alesini long ago accepted that his music career aided in the demise of his marriage. So he didn’t expect that he and Nadine would spend passionate nights together while she’s back in his country, causing them to question if they gave up too soon. But the reappearance of someone from his past immediately causes friction, and may destroy any chance they have at a true reconciliation.

Chapter Ten

Nadine closed the drapes on the windows in her daughter’s bedroom, so in the morning the sun’s rays wouldn’t disturb her sleep. Then she moved quietly over the carpeted floor, making her way over to the bed where she slept.

She sighed, tucking the sheets around Antonella more securely.

At the hospital, Cortez had dismissed the notion that he needed to go home and get some rest. He’d spent the entire day at the hospital and taken a nap in the chair, which temporarily revived him. They’d eaten lunch and dinner in the room with Antonella, played games, read, and while she napped, they watched TV. Neither wanted to leave her alone, and they kept a close eye on her, right along with the medical personnel.

Though reluctant to let her out of her sight, Nadine finally dropped a featherlight kiss on her cheek and walked over to the door. Gabriela stood on the other side, eyes widening when she saw Nadine.

“Hi.”

Nadine spoke to her in Spanish. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I wanted to see Antonella. Can I stay in here tonight?” Gabriela asked timidly.

Cortez had moved another bed into Antonella’s room so the girls could be close.

“Of course you can.” She tilted up Gabriela’s chin. “You’re okay?”

Gabriela nodded vigorously.

Nadine smiled. “Go on.” She stepped out of the way and Gabriela entered the bedroom and climbed into the other bed.

Nadine quietly shut the door and went downstairs to the kitchen. She found Cortez in there, standing in front of the butcher-block island, staring down into a glass of water with a deep frown on his face. He still hadn’t changed out of his clothes.

He looked up when she came in.

“She’s sleeping,” Nadine said. “Gabriela’s in the room with her now.”

He rubbed a tired hand across his brow. “Gustavo asked if she could stay when they go home tomorrow. She wants to stay until Antonella leaves to go back to the States. I told him that it was fine.”

“They’re close. I know they like to spend as much time together as possible.”

Nadine stepped further into the room and took a fortifying breath, bracing for the conversation to come, a conversation they hadn’t been able to have at the hospital. “How did this happen? And by the way, I’m not judging.”

His thin lips compressed into a narrow line. “Of course not.”

“I just want to know how our daughter ended up in a car filled with a bunch of teenagers.”

“They’re her cousins,” Cortez said tightly.

“Be that as it may, look at what happened.” She waved a hand in the general direction of the upstairs. “Is this what happens when she comes to visit? You don’t keep an eye on her?”

“I cannot watch her every second of every day, Nadine.”

This time the beautiful pronunciation of her name lay buried under the weight of irritation in his voice.

“I knew you would overreact,” he muttered.

She hated that word—overreact. As if there was something wrong with her for loving and caring deeply for her only child and wanting to ensure her safety at all times. After they’d lost their baby, he accused her of stifling their daughter. However, she saw it as simply being attentive.

“I am her mother. I am not overreacting.”

“And I am her father.”

“Then act like it,” she snapped.

He flattened his palms against the gray granite countertop. “What would you like me to do? Follow her around everywhere she goes to make sure she doesn’t skin a knee or bump a toe?” His accent thickened in frustration.

Nadine crossed her arms. “You know good and damn well that’s not what I’m saying. You also know she shouldn’t have been in the car with those other kids. An adult should have been driving them. Or she should have been in the car with you and your aunt and her husband.”

“The car was full with my aunt and her family. Antonella wanted to ride with her cousins, and she was perfectly safe with her older cousin driving.”

“Yet they had an accident.”

“You do understand the other car—the one with the adult driver—ran through the traffic light and hit them in the side? Was that made clear to you?”

Nadine fisted her hand. “Don’t condescend to me.”

“And don’t question whether or not I do what’s best for Antonella.”

“My daughter—”

“Our daughter,” Cortez growled, face tightening. His words hung in the room like bitter, rotten fruit. “Our daughter.”

Nadine felt a twinge of guilt. “It was a slip of the tongue.”

“No, it wasn’t.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “You’ve always only thought of her as yours.”

“That is not true.”

“You came in here wanting to argue,” he accused, jabbing a finger at her. His handsome features hardened, lines of tension deepening in a face already creased with fatigue. “You’re not going to like what I have to say. Antonella is back in her home country, on familiar ground, where she belongs. When you left, you took the most precious thing I have in the world away from me and I accepted it. But do not push me, Nadine. Do not make me take her back.”

Nadine’s head jerked back and her stomach dropped at the blatant threat.

Leaving hadn’t been easy. She recalled the heartrending sobbing as nine-year-old Antonella clung to her father one last time, refusing to get on the flight. Only after he insisted that she release him and go did she finally allow Nadine to take her through the gate to the plane. But Nadine had never forgotten the look on his face. The unshed tears in his own eyes.

She’d hurt him deeply the day she left with their daughter. The one thing she hadn’t suspected was that Cortez had never forgiven her for it.

Chapter Eleven

“You don’t mean that,” Nadine said, one hand closing into a fist. “You won’t keep her here.”

“Don’t be too sure.” He’d been thinking about it for some time, and this incident had only brought the decision to a head. “I am tired of having to make appointments for video chats and weekly phone calls.”

The emptiness ate at him, day in and day out. Phone calls were not enough. Seeing her once or twice a year was not enough. Not when she was growing and experiencing life—and all he had was the photos representing all the precious moments he’d missed.

“She’s happy in Atlanta. She has friends and family and school there.”

“She has friends and family here, too. For the first nine years of her life, this was her home, she went to school, and was perfectly fine. If you move back to Buenos Aires, we can both see her and spend time with her.”

“I can’t do that. I have a job.”

“Then let Antonella stay.”

Her eyes widened in panic. “That’s not our arrangement.”

“We never had an arrangement. You left and took her with you. I never had a say.”

“Well, why would you now?” Nadine shot back. “You expect me to just—just leave her here? How can you suggest something like that, especially after I almost lost her?” Disbelief filled her voice.

“I almost lost her, too,” Cortez reminded her in a low voice.

Her face filled with acknowledgement, and perhaps a bit of shame that she had completely ignored the fact that he, too, was still shell-shocked by the possible loss of their only child.

Her gaze dropped to her intertwined hands.

“I saw her get hit. I saw the car smash into the car she was in.”

Cortez sank onto one of the chairs around the island and buried his head in his hands, reliving the real-life nightmare of the accident as it had unfolded in front of him. They were all fine, but he’d been seized by such unimaginable terror, he’d hopped out of the car he was driving while it was still rolling and rushed to get to the mangled sedan carrying Antonella. His uncle, who had been seated beside him, had been the one to apply the brakes to the vehicle to avoid another accident.

A soft hand squeezed his shoulder. She’d moved quietly, or perhaps he’d been so distracted he hadn’t heard her come across to him.

“She’s okay,” Nadine said quietly. Her fingers kneaded his tight shoulder, offering much needed comfort.

Snaking a hand around her waist, he pulled her close, and they bent around each other, burying their faces into each other’s necks.

She rubbed her cheek against his stubbled jaw. Perhaps an innocent act, but one that woke up the sleeping longing within him. With a simple twist of his head, the side of his mouth tasted the corner of hers. She released a little whimper, an encouraging sound that made him press his lips more boldly against hers.

This kiss wasn’t like the last one. During the last one, he’d been consumed with hunger and passion, driven by a burning need to possess her. This time he sought solace from the one person who understood how he felt.

Her soft mouth opened and his tongue traced the inside of her upper lip. She moaned and leaned into him, her fingers tightening in the hairs at the back of his head.

He squeezed her closer, pulling her between his legs and locking her in place. Pressed together, chest to chest, the thud of her heart beat against his, he ached to lose himself inside of her and forget the past. Forget everything.

Cortez grasped Nadine’s arms and lifted his head. Her startled gaze met his, and she licked her mouth—as if savoring the taste of him—forcing a quiet groan from deep in his chest.

“We’re both tired. We don’t want to make a mistake.” He didn’t release her. He couldn’t just yet.

She nodded, struggling to get her breathing back under control. “A mistake. Yes.”

“The stress. The lack of sleep.”

She stepped back and his hands fell away from her arms. Her eyes skirted him and focused on other objects in the kitchen—the island, the glass of water that he’d been drinking.

“Lots of stress. We’re both exhausted. We should go to bed. Not together,” she added hastily. “I mean…separately.”

“Of course.”

Her eyes dipped to his crotch, and he made no move to hide his arousal. Her breath hitched and her eyes darted away again, finding other things to focus on in the room—the refrigerator, the bowl of fruit on the counter.

“Good night.”

He watched her as she walked toward the door. “Nadine.”

She paused and turned.

“Think about what I said.”

Her face remained inscrutable and she didn’t say a word. Then she turned on her heel and left.

______________

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Filed under: Writing

Special Guest: M. J. Kane and Nobody’s Business

Please welcome M.J. Kane to my blog as she discusses one of her favorite scenes from her latest release, Nobody’s Business.

My Favorite Scene

As an author, the joy of writing comes from listening to my characters as they not only introduce themselves to me, but also to each other. Every now and then a funny quirk, dumb decision, or comment leads to a scene that makes me laugh every time….and okay, maybe a little bit of real life experiences from myself or others around me has something to do with it to. J

In NOBODY’S BUSINESS, one of my favorite scenes comes when Trevon Campbell is invited to stay as Kai Malone is making dinner. While he is on his way to becoming the General Manager of an Applebee’s restaurant and has years of experience in the food industry, that doesn’t mean he is an experienced cook!

Enjoy!

Excerpt:

“Hey, it’s about time you got here. Justin and I were going to start without you.” Kai stepped aside and let me enter her apartment.

“Daddy!” Justin ran up to me, arms raised, fingers grasping the air.

“Hey, little man.” I picked him up and kissed his cheek. “Start what?” I peered around Justin’s head as he hugged my neck.

“Peeza!” Justin yelled in my ear.

“Whoa there,” I pulled back and tickled his belly. “Peeza? What’s that?”

Kai laughed as she walked by and rubbed Justin’s head. “He means pizza. We were about to make one.”

“Oh.” I followed her to the kitchen. “So I take it I have to say for dinner?”

She shot me a look over her shoulder. “Unless you’ve got other plans?”

“No, not at all.” I studied the spread on the table. Onions, bell peppers, shredded cheese, a can of spaghetti sauce, pepperoni slices, and pizza crust. I glanced around the kitchen. “Where’s the box?”

“Of what?”

“Pizza.”

Kai looked at me as if I was an idiot. “I’m making homemade pizza.”

“Homemade pizza? Wow.”

Kai laughed, then sat down at the table and pulled the cutting board and the nearest ingredient to be chopped before her.

I sat down across from her with Justin in my lap.

She placed a bell pepper on the cutting board and began to chop it into circular pieces. “I take it your mother didn’t make it this way?”

“My mom cooked big, extravagant meals, you know, down home Southern cooking. I was at the dinner table, not in the kitchen. I left my sisters to have that fun.”

Kai stopped chopping and pointed the knife in my direction. “Hold on, you mean you manage a major eating establishment, but don’t cook?”

“Manage; operative word in the sentence.” I grinned.

Kai cracked up. Justin, who had no idea what the big fuss was about, laughed too.

I joined in. “Hey, somebody’s got to make sure the line cooks, chef, and wait staff stay on the ball. Plus, I cut the checks.”

“But still, what do you eat?” She wiped the corners of her eyes.

It was a pleasure to see her laugh that hard.

“Food.”

“From where?”

“Applebee’s and other places.”

Her expression went from laughter to serious. “What do you feed Justin? You said he has certain dietary needs. He can’t just eat Applebee’s every night.”

“He doesn’t. I didn’t say I can’t cook…I’m just not that good at it.”

Kai shook her head. “You need more help than I thought. Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. Justin,” she sat the knife down and stood. “Do you want to watch another movie?”

“Yes!” He jumped from my lap and went straight for Kai’s outstretched hand.

“Traitor,” I mumbled, then laughed.

I watched as they walked out of the kitchen, hand-in-hand, and tried my best not to feel like the world’s worst dad.

I knew what Justin’s dietary needs were. My workplace wasn’t the only place I purchased fast food from. There were several soul food restaurants on my speed dial. I made sure he had the best mixture of fruits and vegetables, along with protein.

But, Kai had a point. I couldn’t keep doing this.

Times like this made me contemplate packing up everything and moving back to Charlotte. I needed my mother. She would make sure Justin had everything he needed.

The problem was his doctors were here. My job was here.

Trina’s family he’d known since birth was here.

I was on my own.

Kai returned. “Come on. Cooking Lesson 101; how to make homemade pizza.” She grabbed the cutting board, knife, and the bell pepper she’d been cutting. “Grab the rest of it, will you?”

I did as instructed and found myself standing beside her at the counter.

“I feel stupid for asking this, but do you know how to chop?” She looked up at me.

It had been a long time since we stood this close together. I forgot how tall she was. Her head stopped just short of my shoulder.

“You take a knife and you slice stuff up. Simple. Who doesn’t know that?”

A smile spread on her face as she shook her head. “Show me.” She handed me the knife, handle first.

I felt like an idiot, but did it anyway. When I was done, Kai had laughter in her eyes, but not so much in her voice.

“Trevon, you just massacred an innocent vegetable. That was horrible.”

I looked down at my handiwork. “Okay, I don’t know how to chop like the chefs on TV, but it’s cut up, right?”

Kai shook her head and let the laugh she’d been holding out. “Thank God you don’t make love the way you use a knife.”

My attention went directly to her face, which grew crimson after her comment.

“Sorry. My point is, you need to approach food preparation the same way you’d approach sex; with passion. Understand?”

I scratched my head and tried to ignore the visual that came to mind. Kai on top of me, my hands on her hips as I pushed up inside of her. Long silky strands of jet black hair brushing my chest as she leaned down and our mouths met…

That same silky hair now rested in a neat bun on top of her head.

I gripped the edge of the counter top to keep from reaching out to touch it.

“Trevon?” Kai looked at me with a puzzled expression.

I blinked. “Huh? Oh, yeah, right. Cook with passion. Got it.”

She removed the outer layers of an onion and placed in on the cutting board. “Try again.”

I grasped the onion. The thing was large and filled my fingers completely. I held it in place. Kai took my hand that held the knife and lined it up over the onion. The contact sent an image of her hand on mine when her breast had been in my hand. The soft, yet firm weight of it. The texture. The taste.

Focus.

I sliced through it, cutting it in half, then looked at Kai. A smile was on her face, so I assumed I did well. I repeated the process over and over until there was nothing but small chunks left.

“Better?”

“Much better.” She was genuinely pleased.

Satisfied, I ran a hand over my brow. “Oh, shit!”

“What’s wrong?” Kai’s hand was on my arm.

“I got onion juice in my eye!” I blinked rapidly, trying to aid the natural tears raining down to clear out my tear ducts.

“Here, sit down.” She guided me to the nearest chair. “I’ve got saline drops in my purse. Hold on.” She disappeared, and was back in a flash.

Could I make myself look more inadequate?

“Hold still.” Kai leaned over, spreading my eyelid open, then dropping the solution in the affected eye.

I shut my eyes and hung my head down, trying my best to resist the urge to rub it again with my onion infected hands. “Damn, that hurts.”

“Why on earth would you wipe your face when you haven’t washed your hands yet?” She laughed her disbelief.

I blinked, then blinked again. The burning sensation in my eye took a second seat to the awareness of Kai’s body between my legs.

She wore shorts, while I had on a pair of dress slacks, yet I could feel the heat from her body as it radiated against my leg. For a moment I was transported back to my bed and the way our bodies had rocked and bucked against one another. The mindless need to feel her again begged for me to pull her into my lap.

Kai cleared her throat and stepped back breaking the connection. “Better?”

“Yeah.” I leaned forward and started to rub my eye again, but she grabbed my arm and led me to the sink.

She squirted dish liquid in my hand; I scrubbed furiously. When done, I turned to see she’d returned to chopping the remaining toppings for the pizza.

####

To celebrate the release of the fourth novel in The Butterfly Memoirs series, I am giving away a basket filled with Butterfly Memoirs goodies, including autographed paperback copies of ALL FOUR BOOKS!!!! All you have to do is follow the month long blog tour and Tweet, Like, and Share!

Click here to enter the contest => Enter The Contest!

Trevon Campbell’s world changed the moment his ex-girlfriend announced he was a father. Determined to make up for his past mistakes, he gives Trina what she wanted before their breakup, what feels like his soul, which means forgetting the woman he had a one-night stand with, the woman who stole his heart.

Kai Malone doesn’t want to play by her family’s rules. Instead of working for the family business, she became a firefighter. Being a female of multicultural descent, working in a field dominated by men, Kai focuses on her job to ignore the infidelity of her fiancé. Tired of his deceit, she gave in to a one-night stand with a complete stranger, someone she’d never have to see again…or so she thought.

When tragedy strikes, their worlds collide, leaving them no choice but to deal with each other again. It doesn’t take long for them to realize the attraction that brought them together the first time is stronger than ever, forcing Trevon to make the biggest decision of his life.

Buy it now:  Amazon | B&N | iTunes

About the Author:

M.J. Kane stumbled into writing. An avid reader, this once stay at home mom never lost the overactive imagination of an only child. As an adult she made up stories, though never shared them, to keep herself entertained. It wasn’t until surviving a traumatic medical incident in 2006 that she found a reason to let the characters inhabiting her imagination free. Upon the suggestion of her husband, she commandeered his laptop and allowed the characters to take life. It was that, or look over her shoulder for men caring a purple strait jacket. And the rest, as they say, is history.

No longer a television addict, if M.J. isn’t reading a book by one of her favorite authors, she’s battling with her creative muse to balance writing and being a wife and mother. She resides in the suburbs of Atlanta, Georgia with her high school sweetheart, four wonderful children, and four pit bulls. During the day, MJ is a librarian, in her spare time she is director of a local writer’s group, or online connecting with readers and other authors. Other activities she enjoys include: creating custom floral arrangements, assisting her children in their creative pursuits of music and art, and supporting her husband’s music production business, 3D Sounds.

Website     FB     Twitter     Email

Filed under: Special Guests

Still in Love: Episode 5

Only seven more episodes to go! Here is the next episode of Still in Love, a serial novel unfolding on my blog through the summer. I have a new blog post of one or two chapters every Friday. If you missed an episode, click the links below to catch up.

Episode 1    Episode 2    Episode 3   Episode 4

BLURB

Three years ago, Nadine Alesini divorced her husband and left Buenos Aires with her daughter in tow. Now she’s back and forced to spend time with the man she left behind.

Cortez Alesini long ago accepted that his music career aided in the demise of his marriage. So he didn’t expect that he and Nadine would spend passionate nights together while she’s back in his country, causing them to question if they gave up too soon. But the reappearance of someone from his past immediately causes friction, and may destroy any chance they have at a true reconciliation.

Chapter Eight

What a night. And they still had hours to go.

Stifling a yawn, Nadine dragged into the hotel ballroom on sore feet. She rolled her stiff neck and wiggled her shoulders to loosen the tight muscles. Some of the guests had left, but the wedding was still going strong. For the most part, an empty table meant the occupants were on the dance floor. Young, old, and in-between. She had no idea where they got the energy from.

At the moment, neither the bride nor groom could be seen for the throng of family and friends that surrounded them, dancing to a pop song played by the live band. The entire group gyrated and jumped around as if it wasn’t almost six in the morning.

None of this was a surprise. Argentine weddings had a habit of starting at night and lasting into the next day, so Nadine had prepared by taking a nap beforehand. She’d still done good to last this long. Soon enough she’d be leaving, but she first had to lay eyes on her daughter.

Scanning the dim room, illuminated by candles on each table and a ball casting flashes of light as it twirled from the ceiling, she didn’t see Antonella anywhere. Knowing her twelve-year-old, she was probably in the middle of the madness with her family members.

Across the room, Cortez stood near a wall with a small plate in hand, talking to the wedding planner and one of the hotel employees. He’d long ago gotten rid of his tie and jacket like many of the men in the room, wearing only a white shirt and black trousers—two very basic colors that somehow managed to magnify his sex appeal.

Her eyes lingered on his bent head and profile, recalling his display of anger the night before. She and Cortez went together about as well as winter and summer, and they’d made sure to steer clear of each other as much as possible. Easy enough to do in a house of that size. While she relaxed poolside with Benita and the youngest boys, he spent time with Antonella and Gabriela at the park. While she napped, they watched movies or played air hockey in the game room. It was all very civilized.

Right then he looked up, and Nadine’s stomach contracted. They’d arrived in the limo, which had been a painfully quiet ride, occasionally disrupted by Antonella and Gabriela snickering with their heads together, oblivious to the tension between her and Cortez.

Nadine sent him a brief smile, one that she hoped he saw as a peace offering. They had to do better than this. Gustavo and his family were leaving tomorrow, which meant she and Cortez would no longer have the buffer of family between them.

To her surprise, he smiled back, and she took a relieved breath. With five more days left on this trip, it was better if they got along.

He said a few words to the hotel contact, nodded, and then walked in her direction. The closer he came, the more the air charged, and she wondered if he felt it, too. Or was she the only one who experienced the sizzle—the crackle around them whenever they were in the same vicinity?

Cortez swiveled a chair from a nearby table in the same direction as hers, so he could watch the dance floor as well. He dropped into it with a groan.

“Don’t tell me you’re tired,” Nadine said.

“Okay, I won’t tell you.”

“This should be nothing for you. You used to put on a concert, party into the morning, and then stroll into a TV studio for a live interview.”

Crossing an ankle over his knee, he said, “The good old days.” He sliced into the hunk of cake on his plate. “Mmmm. Delicioso.”

Nadine eyed the dessert. “Is that the first piece you’ve had all night?”

Cortez nodded. “They set this aside for me.” He shot her a look from the corner of his eye and arched a brow. “How many have you had?’

“Don’t worry about how many I’ve had,” she snapped.

The sexy smile he was known for appeared as he laughed quietly to himself. “Is that two or three slices?”

“What did I just say?” Nadine asked.

He full-on chuckled this time. Sliding his gaze to hers, he shook his head and said, “You truly haven’t changed a bit.”

Nadine shifted her gaze away from him to hide the reaction to his words, to his face, to his very presence.

“You can have mine.” Cortez extended the plate to her.

“This is the last of it?” Nadine glanced toward the table where the delicious three-tier masterpiece covered in white fondant and filled with passionfruit custard had previously been displayed.

“No more,” he confirmed.

She shook her head. “No, that’s yours. I couldn’t.” Plus she’d already had two slices.

He shoved the plate closer, and the moist layers of the dessert called out to her. “I insist. I’ve had enough.”

She sincerely doubted that. Her lust for sweets was legendary, but she found her match in him. “I can’t possibly eat all of this alone. You’ll have to share it with me.”

“Deal.” He scooted the chair closer.

In the past, she would have simply used Cortez’s fork, but something as simple as that would be considered inappropriate now. Too intimate. She unrolled a cloth napkin and used the fork inside to cut off a slice of the cake. Slipping it into her mouth, she moaned with satisfaction.

“I want to kiss the baker,” she murmured.

Cortez laughed at her right before placing a hunk of cake in his mouth.

She took off another piece, and they quietly went back and forth, eating the delicious dessert. It reminded her of other occasions, in the beginning when they had struggled as newlyweds and a night out meant sharing a meal and splitting dessert afterward. They always made sure they had enough money for dessert.

Anyone looking at them could easily mistake them for a couple from those years past, the way they shared the plate, held upright in his hand, cutting and eating and savoring each bite together.

When the last morsel remained, Cortez’s gaze bounced from her to the plate and back to her again. “Go ahead,” he said, with a slight nod.

Nadine shook her head. “It’s the last piece, and it was yours originally, so you should have it.”

“Take it.”

He spoke quietly, and she knew he meant it. He might even become a little upset if she didn’t take it.

The simple generosity made her blink back tears. With numb lips she said, “Thank you.” Nothing but crumbs remained after she placed the last piece of cake in her mouth.

Chewing slowly, it took a while for Nadine to get it all down. When she did, she set the fork on the table beside her.

Then she turned and met her ex-husband’s steady gaze.

“Are you happy in Atlanta?” His face was pensive and shuttered, hiding his emotions with the same effectiveness of someone lowering the shades on a window to block out all light.

Happy.

She’d thought she was—and on some level, she truly was. She had her health, a good job, and her daughter. After coming here, however, she felt more like someone who’d fooled herself into thinking she was happy—living a life that, little by little, was being exposed for the lie that it was.

The attraction between her and Cortez was undeniable, and it didn’t take a genius to deduce that what she felt was more than attraction. So how could she ever truly be happy when the man she used to love—she swallowed the obvious lie—still loved, lived thousands of miles away?

Her eyes shifted toward the gyrating dancers. Cortez’s parents had already left, but his aunt was on the floor, shimmying with her husband and giving the younger generation stiff competition.

“I’m—” she pushed the words past the knot in her throat, “—I’m as happy as I can be.”

She didn’t see his reaction, but when he responded in a low voice, she thought she heard him say, “That’s all that matters.”

“Are you?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the dance floor.

“As happy as I can be.”

There were so many more questions she wanted to ask, but she was afraid of the answers.

Why did he let her go? Did he regret marrying her, since she couldn’t give him the children he wanted? Or did he regret the divorce, dreading living without her the way she dreaded living without him—seeing the sobering truth of her life stretched before her like a vast, empty wasteland?

Servers began bringing out chafing dishes filled with food, which meant breakfast would be served shortly. This was her cue to leave, to escape this conversation that brought her more pain than she wanted to bear at the moment.

“I’m going to leave.” She rose from the chair and he stood, too.

“I’m going to stay for breakfast,” he said.

She’d expected him to. “I’ll say goodbye to Antonella and then catch a cab.”

“Don’t do that. I’ll call Joachim and have him take you home.” He reached into his pocket for his cell phone.

“I’m one person. If I take the car, what about you and Antonella and—”

“We’ll be fine.” He waved away her concern. “There are enough cars among us all that everyone can get home with no problem.”

“It doesn’t make sense—”

“Take the car, Nadine!”

Her head tipped back at his heated response.

“Just…take it.”

“All right,” she mumbled.

Without another word, she walked away from him and went in search of Antonella. She craned her neck and finally saw their daughter, dancing in the corner with Gabriela. Two of their male cousins danced with them.

Nadine wound her way across the room, stopping often to say goodbye to friends and former in-laws she wouldn’t see again—perhaps ever, once they went back to their homes. She squeezed Elsa tight, whose bright smile hadn’t dimmed since they entered the ballroom, and whispered words of encouragement, telling her how happy she was for her and her new husband. By the time she made it over to the children, her daughter had spotted her.

“You’re leaving?” Antonella asked, pouting. Her hair had been tamed into a low chignon, held in place by a series of pearl-lined clips.

“It’s late, and I’m going to get some sleep before the sun comes up. I’ll see you later today.”

“Okay.”

Nadine gave her a tight squeeze and then slipped through the double doors toward the hotel exit. More tired than she’d realized, she dozed a little in the limo, but woke up when Joachim pulled into the driveway.

“See you later, Joachim,” she called, as she walked toward the front door.

“Hasta luego, señora,” he called back. He waited until she’d let herself into the house before strolling off in the direction of the entrance to the servants’ quarters.

Nadine undressed quickly and fell into bed, her head barely touching the pillow before she was asleep.

Sometime later, she jolted awake. At first she thought the sun had disturbed her rest, the way it slanted through the drapes covering the French doors that led to the balcony. But as her sleep-muddled brain became more aware of her surroundings, she realized the sound of someone pounding ceaselessly on the door had woken her up.

“¡Señora, despiértate, por favor!” The desperate voice of Philippa, the housekeeper, could be heard through the wooden partition.

Rubbing her eyes, Nadine sat up quickly. “Come in,” she called.

Philippa burst in, her face crumpled in worry and hands clutching the telephone. Panic shot through Nadine’s veins. A sixth sense told her that whatever was wrong had to do with her daughter.

“Señor Alesini is on the teléfono. You must to go now. There has been an accident. La chiquita is in the hospital!”

 

Chapter Nine

Nadine tore out of the elevator and marched down the stark white hospital hallway toward the nurse’s station. Her body shook with the type of fear that drowned out all other thoughts and feelings, focused on her sole goal, which was to get to her daughter. She couldn’t breathe easy until she saw Antonella in one piece.

She was almost to the desk when she saw Cortez coming toward her. Stubble shadowed his unshaven chin and jaw, and his white shirt and black slacks were much more rumpled now.

Her eyes zeroed in on a dark smudge about the size of a quarter on the left side of his shirt, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Is that blood?” she asked in a terrified whisper.

“It is, but—”

“What?” The room started spinning. “Where is she? Where is she?”

“Nadine, calm down. Listen to me.” Cortez reached for her, but she brushed aside his hands.

“I will not calm down. Tell me where she is. Tell me where my baby is!” She grabbed the lapels of his shirt.

He grasped her by the arms. “Escúchame. Listen to me.” He spoke in a calm but firm voice. “She is fine. She is not seriously hurt. I tried to explain everything to you on the phone, but you hung up so fast.”

“If she’s not seriously hurt, then whose blood is that?” Nadine demanded in a whisper.

“It’s hers, but—”

The hospital sounds became muffled, as if someone had placed noise-reducing headphones over her ears. Her knees went weak, and as if from a distance, she heard Cortez curse under his breath.

Fingers biting into her arms, he dragged her over to a group of chairs. “Sit,” he said in a grim voice, pushing her down onto one of the seats. He sat down beside her and held onto one wrist, as if he feared she’d run off.

He waited as she took several deep breaths to stave off the fuzziness that had encroached on the perimeter of her brain.

“She’s going to be okay.” He continued to speak in a mild, low tone. “She has a bruise on her head and a broken wrist. It’s a minor fracture, the doctor said, so they put a splint on it. I have blood on my shirt because when I pulled her from the car, shattered glass had nicked her skin and caused some bleeding.”

“Where is she?”

“Room 2201, down the hall. They want to keep her for the rest of the day for observation because she bumped her head. It’s just a precaution.”

Nadine took a few more deep breaths, fighting back the clawing panic. Terrible things happened in hospitals.

Cortez’s hand tightened around her wrist. “You have to calm down. She’s already shaken, and if she sees you like that, it will upset her more.”

She nodded her understanding. She had to be strong for her baby.

“Do you want some water?”

She shook her head, even though her mouth felt as dry as the Monte Desert in western Argentina. “No. I just want to see her.”

Cortez took a deep breath. “All right. Let’s go.”

He rose from the chair and Nadine followed him, taking the time during the short walk to pull herself together. As he said, if she appeared distressed, it would only upset Antonella more.

“How are the other kids?” she asked.

Cortez paused outside the door. His eyes held concern as he looked down at her. “They’re all fine and Gustavo took them to the house after they were checked out. You probably passed each other on the road.”

Antonella had been riding with her cousins—Gabriela, her older brother, Carlos, and her second-oldest brother—when a vehicle sideswiped them. Even though Antonella was the most banged up of the car’s occupants, Nadine was thankful that the injuries were not severe for anyone else in the car.

Cortez pushed open the door to room 2201, but let Nadine precede him. When she saw her daughter lying there beneath the white sheets, her pale face just a shade or two darker than the stark white pillowcase her head rested on, she almost fell apart.

She’d experienced this type of emotional turmoil before.

A child. A hospital. But that time the results had been disastrous. Devastating.

With the same determination that she’d exercised for years, Nadine slammed the door on the memory, forcing the image of tiny little fingers and toes from her mind. She treated that time the way she always had—as if it had never occurred.

“Mommy.” Antonella lifted her arms and Nadine rushed to her side, dropping onto the firm mattress and gathering her in her arms.

“Are you okay, baby?” She petted her daughter’s curly hair, which had fallen free of the clips that had held it in place.

“Yes,” her daughter replied, voice muffled against her breast.

“Mommy’s here now.” She brushed hair from Antonella’s forehead to get a good look at her and saw a mean-looking purple bump on her temple. “That looks pretty nasty.” She touched it and her daughter winced.

“The nurse says I have to stay here.”

“Only until the end of the day.” Cortez walked over to the chair near the wall and sat down. Though he spoke in a reassuring voice, Nadine read the anxiety in his expression. His well-coiffed hair was no longer neat and tidy—probably pushed into all directions by fingers motivated by worry. He was unshaven, disheveled, and looked like he needed to sleep.

Their gazes connected over the top of Antonella’s head. He didn’t have to say a word. She read everything in his clear gray eyes. He and she weren’t just two parents worried about the wellbeing of their child.

They were two parents who’d already experienced the tragedy of losing one.

______________

Feel free to answer this question in the comments:

QUESTION: What does Cortez offering Nadine the last of the cake and insisting that she take the limo home tell you about the kind of man he is?

***Subscribe to my newsletter to get an email alert for each episode. => SUBSCRIBE

 

Filed under: Writing

Still in Love: Episode 4

A quick FYI before we dive into this week’s episode. The Hot Latin Men Box Set will be released on November 9th! Mark your calendar. I’m working on some prizes to give away during that week to celebrate. I’ll let you know when the pre-order link is up and ready.

Now, here is the next episode of Still in Love, a serial novel unfolding on my blog through the summer. I have a new blog post of one or two chapters every Friday. If you missed an episode, click the links below to catch up.

Episode 1    Episode 2    Episode 3

BLURB

Three years ago, Nadine Alesini divorced her husband and left Buenos Aires with her daughter in tow. Now she’s back and forced to spend time with the man she left behind.

Cortez Alesini long ago accepted that his music career aided in the demise of his marriage. So he didn’t expect that he and Nadine would spend passionate nights together while she’s back in his country, causing them to question if they gave up too soon. But the reappearance of someone from his past immediately causes friction, and may destroy any chance they have at a true reconciliation.

Chapter Six

Nadine woke up to pallid light streaming through the sheer curtains and the muffled sounds of mowers cutting the grass outside. She stretched, feeling somewhat rested. At some point her mind had settled enough to fall asleep, but not before she’d tortured herself with thoughts of Cortez and wondered if she had, indeed, made a mistake by agreeing to stay in the house with him.

At a short rap on the door, she twisted her head and Antonella traipsed into the room wearing a pair of capris and a T-shirt. Her loose hair tumbled down the middle of her back, and her bright, happy face made Nadine smile.

Antonella hopped onto the bed with a lot of energy, looking like she’d been up for hours, which was probably the case. Like her father, she didn’t need much sleep. As long as Cortez could catch a refreshing nap every now and again, he could go for long periods without extended rest.

“What are we doing today?” her daughter asked.

Nadine twirled a lock of her daughter’s hair around her finger and yawned. “I need breakfast first, but just because I’m here, don’t think you can’t do what you normally do when you come to see your dad. You don’t have to keep me company.”

She tweaked Antonella’s nose and then rolled out of bed. She went into the en suite bathroom, a sleekly designed space in timeless black and white. Her fingers briefly touched the pewter-framed mirror, a piece she and the decorator had both seen at the same time and simultaneously cried, “That one!”

She smiled a little to herself. That day was a long time ago.

“I might watch a movie in the theater. Or go down the street to one of my friends—Katarina’s house. I don’t think she’s knows I’m back yet.” Katarina was the daughter of a couple who owned a chain of clothing stores.

“If you go down the street, let Joachim walk with you. Or I’ll take you.” Nadine peeked out the door at Antonella, who was plucking at the sheet. “Understand?”

Her daughter’s head popped up. “Yes.”

“You don’t walk around here by yourself, do you?” One couldn’t be too careful, even in a neighborhood like this.

“No,” Antonella said in a small voice, lowering her eyes, which made Nadine suspect it was an untruth. She’d address that issue with Cortez later.

“Did you eat breakfast?” She started brushing her teeth.

“Yep.” Antonella came to stand in the doorway, a mischievous look on her face. “Since you were so late, Papá and I ate all the medialunas. Nothing’s left. Not a single crumb.” She licked her lips for good measure.

Medialunas were small, crescent-shaped pastries that looked like miniature croissants, but had a sweeter taste. They were part of a typical Argentine breakfast, and Nadine loved to sweeten hers even more by cutting open the flaky bread and swiping on a healthy serving of dulce de leche. She’d learned that from Cortez, who had a sweet tooth like she did, and something their daughter had inherited from both of them.

Nadine finished up at the sink. “Nah-uh. You better not have.”

“Uh-huh. And I’m not sorry.”

“Oh yeah?”

Nadine darted after her daughter, and Antonella took off running with a loud screech. When Nadine caught her, she tackled her onto the bed and tickled her mercilessly.

“This is your punishment for being so mean to your mother.”

Antonella squealed and laughed, wriggling and twisting to get away from Nadine’s poking fingers.

“Are you sorry?” Nadine asked, continuing to dig and prod while holding her so she couldn’t escape.

“Yes. I’m…sorry,” Antonella choked out. “We…didn’t eat them…all.”

“That’s what I thought. You know better.” Nadine released Antonella, and her daughter brushed away her thick hair, which had tumbled into her face during their playful tussle.

Nadine looked down into her daughter’s dark eyes, her heart hurting a little as it filled with emotion. Her baby, her one and only. “You know I love you,” she said softly.

Antonella nodded, her face grave. “More than life itself.”

She’d told her that a thousand times. Squeezing her daughter tight, she pressed a long, loud kiss to her cheek. If anything happened to her…Nadine cast aside the devastating thought, one that was too unbearable in its familiarity.

She retrieved her suitcase and dropped it onto the bed. “I guess I better get dressed and have some breakfast. Your tío Gustavo and his family will be here soon.”

“I can’t wait to see Gabriela,” Antonella said, her eyes lighting up.

Gabriela was Gustavo’s daughter, only a year older than Antonella, and her favorite cousin. Gustavo had six children in all, five boys and Gabriela. When they arrived, the house would be alive with activity.

****

Nadine changed and had breakfast on the back terrace overlooking the lake. On the opposite side, a father and son fed the ducks, who squawked loudly as they chased after the morsels of bread. This side featured a dock where a small row boat was moored, and a shallow beach where they used to sit and roast marshmallows or relax under the stars with blankets and a small fire, a tradition she knew Cortez continued when Antonella came to visit.

She hadn’t seen Cortez this morning yet, and that was a good thing. It gave her a chance to put on her mask and secure her defenses in place.

According to her daughter, he went to his home office after breakfast. He still had details from a deal to work out, which he wanted to have completed so he could spend quality time with Antonella during the rest of her stay.

She and her daughter went to the home theater. Instead of sitting in the tall-back leather seats, they sat in the overstuffed sofa that ran along the rear wall. It was filled with giant pillows, and was a comfy alternative to the chairs. Antonella stretched out beside Nadine for a Harry Potter marathon.

Late morning and halfway through the first movie, Nadine’s former in-laws arrived, sooner than expected. Philippa came to announce their arrival, and that’s when all the commotion started. Antonella rushed out and Nadine followed her. By the time she made it outside, Antonella and Gabriela had already fallen into each other’s arms with gleeful squeals.

Cortez stood outside in jeans and a ribbed gray shirt, his handsome face brightened with joy, greeting his much taller and huskier brother, Gustavo, beside a gray SUV. His wife, Gabriela, three of the boys, and their luggage, arrived in that vehicle, while his eldest, Carlos, had driven behind in a blue sedan with the second oldest.

Gustavo was a giant of a man at six foot five, with beefy arms and a weather-worn face that came from working out in the elements. His stern features belied a gentle nature, and his black hair was streaked with more gray than Cortez’s. By contrast, his wife, Benita, was a petite woman with reddish-blonde hair, a soothing smile, and a very pregnant belly—baby number seven.

There were hugs and kisses all around, and finally Benita stopped to beam at Nadine. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too. Boy or girl this time?” Nadine asked.

“Gracias a Dios, a girl this time. No more boys.” She giggled and rubbed her belly.

Carlos, almost as tall as his father but with a slighter build, pulled a cooler from the trunk of the blue sedan he arrived in. From a quick check, Nadine saw the vehicle contained more coolers, and she knew plenty of meat and food had been brought.

That could only mean one thing. They were going to have a party.

Chapter Seven

Keep your distance.

That’s what Cortez kept telling himself, and it was easier to do with a house abuzz with activity. He welcomed the revelry of his cousins and friends, who’d arrived after Gustavo put out the call for the party. Cortez sat just on the outskirts, watching the festivities from his vantage point on the patio, lanterns positioned around the heart-shaped pool adding enough light to see, but keeping the atmosphere cozy.

Gustavo had brought plenty of fresh meat from his ranch and the men had spent the afternoon grilling steaks, chicken, and chorizo. Side dishes of salad, potatoes, rice, and empanadas had been delivered in chafing dishes from a local restaurant. Joachim had made two trips to the wine cellar for bottles of Malbec, and a separate trip to the store for beer and other spirits. Philippa and two of the maids had set up the food and tables around the pool, while Benita and Nadine worked in the kitchen preparing chimichurri to accompany the steaks.

Now that the party was in full swing, everyone was having a good time—talking, eating, and some even dancing. The kids occupied themselves away from the adults. Antonella and Gabriela had discovered the gelato in the deep freezer, so they and the other children bulldozed through the inventory, eating the frozen treat while huddled in a big group at one end of the pool.

Gustavo staggered over, bottle of beer in hand, and plopped down onto the chair next to him. He was already drunk, and when his brother drank, he talked a lot. Cortez braced for the coming conversation.

“She looks great.” He directed his gaze over to Nadine, standing with his wife on the other side of the pool. “How do you plan to get her back?”

“I don’t.” He sipped his wine. The rich flavor washed over his tongue, but not even the exquisite taste of the grape could compare to the sweetness he’d sampled when he’d kissed Nadine last night.

Gustavo frowned. “What do you mean? Why is she here at the house with you, then?”

Cortez explained the mix-up with Elsa.

With an overly hearty laugh that shook his large frame, Gustavo tossed his head back. Definitely drunk.

“And you believe her?” He snorted. “Our little sister is playing matchmaker. She wants the two of you back together.”

The same thought had crossed his mind, but Cortez had dismissed it; because if it was true, he’d have to throttle Elsa—thereby leaving her fiancé without a bride.

“You loved each other once,” Gustavo said, speaking in a grave voice like a wise man imparting knowledge from years of experience. “Benita and I don’t always get along. Our parents don’t always get along. Marriage is work, and you don’t give up because of a rough patch.” He tossed back a swallow of beer.

“We didn’t give up.” Everyone tried to break down their split into simplistic terms. Give up. Stop fighting. Nothing could be further from the truth. “Our situation is more complicated than that.” He sipped his wine.

“Why? Because you couldn’t have any more children?”

Cortez stiffened at the blunt question.

“You can have one of mine,” his brother continued. He took a swig of beer, unaware in his inebriated state that he’d just torn open an old wound.

“I’d rather have my own,” Cortez murmured.

Coming from large families—he with five brothers and sisters and Nadine with six—they’d both wanted a large family of their own. But after Antonella, getting pregnant had been difficult. For years they’d tried, and for years he watched her struggle to keep her hopes up. Being around his family didn’t help. Every year at least one of his siblings welcomed a new baby into the world, and their family celebrated. Every year, he and she waited, and hoped, and prayed they’d be able to celebrate, too.

After some time, he stopped talking about having children because he didn’t want her to feel any pressure. Then the unthinkable happened, and she never quite recovered. Her vibrancy and optimism had been snuffed out, and he couldn’t fix it. She became fifty percent alive and one hundred percent unhappy, and he was never able to put a genuine smile on her face again—something he’d promised himself he would always do. Keep her smiling. Keep her happy.

“You can have your own children,” Gustavo said. “If not with Nadine, then find another woman. You can have any woman you want.”

But he only wanted one.

His eyes flicked over to Nadine, who stood swaying gently to the music as she and Benita spoke. She’d been with him from the beginning. He wanted her with him in the end.

****

Nadine munched on a delicious meat empanada, waiting for Benita to return from the bathroom.

She’d missed this. The welcoming nature of the Alesini clan had made her transition into the culture that much easier, but it hadn’t been a completely smooth transition. A few relatives had questioned Cortez’s decision to marry a woman who, in their words, didn’t fit into their “homogenous” family structure, but he’d swiftly and firmly squashed such comments. If anyone else had a problem with her, she was not aware, and eventually her mind settled that her mixed race daughter would have no problem fitting in.

She watched as Cortez came toward her from the other side of the pool. They’d done an excellent job of avoiding each other for most of the day, but as he neared, her heart made a worrisome flutter in her chest.

He bestowed a lazy smile on her. “I bet you don’t miss all this craziness,” he said.

He was trying to be polite, pretending like last night hadn’t happened. For the sake of appearances, she went along with him.

“Southern families can be just as crazy and boisterous.”

“Hmm…” He looked down into his almost-empty glass of wine as if the answers to the mysteries of the universe were contained within. “I wouldn’t know.”

Just as members of his family had been skeptical about their union, members of hers had been as well. Their concerns had been rooted in the fact that her decision to abandon her home and job was based solely on falling in love—an emotion they doubted she actually felt. They thought her decision impulsive and imprudent, and worried about how Cortez would support her without a “real job.”

“My parents didn’t dislike you. They just…didn’t understand how I could walk away from everything to move here.”

“Even after we achieved all of this, they never fully accepted our marriage. They must be glad you’re back home.”

“They’re not happy my marriage fell apart, if that’s what you mean.”

They both fell silent.

“Would you ever consider moving back?” He spoke even slower than usual, his words a bit slurred.

“How much have you had to drink?” She eyed his glass.

“Not as much as Gustavo.”

“That’s not saying much.” He laughed, and she hazarded a grin. As big as Gustavo was, he was always the first to get drunk. Benita and Carlos would have quite a struggle getting him up the stairs to bed tonight.

“Would you move back?” Cortez pressed, his face inscrutable.

“You’ve had too much to drink.”

“I’m not drunk.” Emotion radiated from his eyes. “Answer the question.”

“Don’t do this.” Her heart started racing.

“Do what?”

“You’re trying to force an answer out of me.”

“What are you afraid of?”

You.

“Was it so terrible?” he asked, softly. He lifted a hand, about to touch her cheek or her hair, so close that only a sliver of air separated them.

“I left, didn’t I?”

The question stopped him mid-motion. His fingers crumbled into a fist and his face became shuttered.

Nadine turned away. “Didn’t we hurt each other enough? Let’s not do this.”

He didn’t respond right away. The beat of the music and the sounds of laughter and conversation around the patio filled her ears.

“You’re right,” he said tersely.

With the flick of a wrist, Cortez tossed his glass against the back wall. It shattered into a dozen pieces, and Nadine flinched, jarred by the manifestation of his anger. She remained rooted to the spot, watching his stiff back as he disappeared into the house.

Other than a few heads turned in their direction, no one else noticed what he’d done, or the remnants of wine sliding down the cream-colored brick like drops of blood.

______________

Feel free to answer any or all of these questions in the comments:

QUESTIONS: Do you think Nadine is being too cautious? Or is Cortez trying to move too fast? Now that you’ve read this episode, can you guess what “unthinkable” thing happened to change Nadine during their marriage?

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Filed under: Writing

Still in Love: Episode 3

Here is the next episode of Still in Love, a serial novel unfolding on my blog through the summer. I have a new blog post of one or two chapters every Friday. If you missed an episode, click the links below to catch up.

Episode 1    Episode 2

BLURB

Three years ago, Nadine Alesini divorced her husband and left Buenos Aires with her daughter in tow. Now she’s back and forced to spend time with the man she left behind.

Cortez Alesini long ago accepted that his music career aided in the demise of his marriage. So he didn’t expect that he and Nadine would spend passionate nights together while she’s back in his country, causing them to question if they gave up too soon. But the reappearance of someone from his past immediately causes friction, and may destroy any chance they have at a true reconciliation.

CHAPTER FOUR

“Nadine, I am so sorry!”

Elsa sounded genuinely distraught on the phone, but Nadine didn’t want to belabor the point about the lack of communication regarding the accommodations. Staying here meant she could spend more time with her daughter. Besides, her former sister-in-law had a full house over there, and even though it was after midnight, by the sound of the loud music and voices in the background, they had no intention of going to bed anytime soon. Staying at the mansion meant she had a better shot of keeping her sanity.

As the youngest of the Alesini children, Elsa was last to get married and a bit spoiled. At thirty-one, she was by no means a baby, but being twelve years younger than Cortez and fifteen years younger than Gustavo—the oldest—meant her older brothers often treated her more like a daughter than a sibling. Lucky for her, she would continue to be spoiled by her future husband, the wealthy son of a metals exporter.

“Don’t worry about it, Elsa. It’s fine. It’s not as if Cortez and I can’t get along.”

“You are not angry, then?” the younger woman asked cautiously.

“Of course not. I know you’re busy with the wedding preparations, and that’s what you need to concentrate on.”

“Ay, there is so much to do. Thank you for understanding. You are my sister, and I want you to be comfortable.”

“I am comfortable. Don’t concern yourself with me and my needs. What about you? Do you need me to do anything?”

“No, Mamá is here, my friends, and I am—” She broke off, her voice breaking. “I am so happy. Only two more days.”

Nadine smiled, recalling how overwhelmed she’d been around the time of her own wedding, marrying a man in a foreign country and giving up her job to stay and make a life with him. Her friends and family had thought she was crazy, but she’d been high on love—a love stronger than the most potent of drugs.

She and Cortez didn’t have much money at the time, so the wedding ceremony had taken place at Gustavo’s estancia, a 200-acre ranch three hours outside of the city. With the mountains as a backdrop against the setting sun, she and Cortez said their vows in front of his entire family, her new friends, and the only members of her family able to attend—her parents.

“If you need me, you know you can call me.”

“I will. See you Saturday!”

The call disconnected and Nadine sat on the side of the bed for a minute. It was strange to be back in this house as a guest when she knew every corner and cubbyhole and had been instrumental in designing much of the space. She’d selected linens for the beds, drapes for every window, and chosen furnishings shipped from abroad because they fit the specific décor of a room.

Pushing up from the bed at the grumbling in her stomach, she knew she had to eat something, even if only a snack. She quickly washed her face and brushed her teeth, then glanced down at her attire.

She hadn’t brought a robe since she’d expected to be staying with Elsa, but the comfy shorts and tank top she slept in were decent enough to wear walking around the house. There wasn’t much chance of anyone roaming through the halls at this hour anyway.

Closing the bedroom door as quietly as she could, Nadine tiptoed to the room next door. Easing open the door, she peeked in on her daughter, sleeping fitfully on the bed, before easing it shut again without a sound.

She crept down the stairs, stopping on the bottom step when she heard a sound, or thought she did. Tilting her head, she listened for movement or voices in other parts of the house, but heard nothing.

Finding her way in the dimness, she padded barefoot across the cool travertine tile that filled the open foyer, silently cursing herself for forgetting her bedroom slippers. At the back of the house, she fumbled for the electronic panel on the wall and illuminated the spacious kitchen.

Squinting, she waited until her eyes adjusted to the bright light before making her way to the French door refrigerator, a monstrosity of steel and glass that Cortez had insisted they buy, the one concession she and Philippa allowed him when they had worked on designing the kitchen.

Nadine perused the shelves through the glass door, stacked with containers full of leftovers from the dinner Philippa had prepared. Before she indulged, she wanted something to drink.

She reached up and grasped a glass in the cabinet, and at the same moment, the hairs on her arms shot straight up. Immediately on alert, she swung around to find Cortez standing at the door.

He always moved so quietly and used to sneak up on her and steal a kiss or grab her around the waist and sweep her off the floor. Perhaps that’s why she’d developed such an uncanny ability to detect whenever he was nearby.

“Find everything you need?” he asked.

“Yes. I was thirsty. Getting something to drink.” She held up the glass as proof, but her hand trembled slightly, and she set it on the counter, suddenly nervous. Immensely uneasy.

“I’m thirsty, too,” he said, coming toward her.

She stood there, immobile, unable to budge an inch as he neared, even when he reached up to the shelf behind her. The subtle scent of his skin swept below her nostrils, and she bit down on the inside of her cheek, grasping the counter behind her and not letting go until he’d moved away.

He appeared perfectly calm as he pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator and poured himself a glass. She, on the other hand, had to force her breathing to return to normal.

Cortez tipped his head back and swallowed the water in what seemed like only a couple of gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as the liquid swept down his throat. He’d made something so simple as drinking water appear manly and sexy.

He held out the bottle. “Would you like some?”

“Yes.” Her throat was rather dry.

He filled the glass and she gladly swallowed a mouthful, wetting her parched throat.

Against her will, her gaze traveled down over his torso. She tried not to look, but his firm body was right there. She only had to stretch out a hand and she could touch the cluster of dark hairs on his chest, dragging her fingers through them to where they narrowed down into a thin column and disappeared below the waistband of his black silk pajama bottoms.

“Like what you see?”

Her eyes snapped up. The heat of mortification burned her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I—”

“Don’t apologize.” A muscle in his jaw tensed, the way it did when he reined in deep emotion. He set the bottle back in the refrigerator. “I have to admit, I do find it odd, though, that you would look at me like that.”

“I don’t know what you think you saw, but I assure you it was your imagination,” Nadine said stiffly.

His eyes slid to her. “Yet you were about to apologize.”

Once again, her cheeks burned hot. “I could accuse you of the same thing. You practically gave me a physical this afternoon.”

“I’m not the one in a relationship.”

“I’m not in a relationship.”

“No? What about the man you’re seeing?” He set his glass in the sink.

“Who are you talking about?” Nadine asked, genuinely confused.

“The doctor,” he bit out.

“Clark?”

His shoulders drew taut as tightened guitar strings. “Is that his name?”

Cortez obviously knew much more than he let on, which made her wonder how he knew about her friend in the first place. Their conversations centered around Antonella, and every now and again he caught her up on news about one of their mutual friends, but they never discussed their paramours. Though she wasn’t even sure Clark could be classified as one.

For years she feared jumping back into the dating pool, searching for a connection like the one she and Cortez had shared. Then a few months ago she met Clark, a single father whose boys attended the same Catholic school as Antonella.

A mere look from her ex and she melted, but that didn’t happen with Clark. Unfortunately, the man bored her to tears. On the excitement barometer, it was like going from a superstar concert to a middle school talent show. After a few dates, they realized they were better off as friends.

“There’s nothing going on between us. Not that I care what you think.” She set her water on the counter and stalked toward the door, seeking escape, but his next words halted her in her tracks.

“You’d better care what I think,” he said, voice low and lethal. “You will not bring another man into the house that I pay for.”

Nadine rounded on him. “You think because you pay for that house you own everything inside it?” Her eyes narrowed on him. “How did you even know about Clark? Are you grilling our daughter to get information about me and my personal affairs?”

A faint blush darkened his cheeks.

“That’s despicable,” she said.

His face tightened in anger. “What’s despicable is having that man around our daughter.”

“I have a right to date. We’re no longer married.” She held up her left hand so he could see her bare fingers.

Wrong thing to do. Seething anger entered his eyes, but still he maintained his cool—a trait that used to make steam blow from her ears when they were married. She wanted to see some emotion from him, to know what he was feeling.

“You’d better go to bed now,” he said in a calm voice.

“Why?” she demanded. “Because you don’t want to talk? That’s so familiar. You always did an excellent job of avoiding conversation when we were married, traveling around, using your tour schedule as an excuse to stay away when you didn’t want to deal with…the problems in our marriage.”

She shut down as pain erupted inside of her, the kind that had kept her bedridden from depression, closed off from everyone around her until she found the strength to go on.

“I didn’t need an excuse to stay away. My wife made it very clear I was not welcome in my own house.” He tilted his head sideways. “Although…you never failed to welcome me in other ways.”

A flash of heat swept Nadine’s skin.

They’d never had any problems communicating in the bedroom, driven by a sexual compulsion that surmounted their marital problems, though it couldn’t make them disappear. After weeks on the road, the impatience with which he’d reach for her never failed to thrill her. So many times he’d tugged on her clothes, on more than one occasion tearing them from her body like a man possessed.

Every single time she’d matched his hunger, and her neck burned at the thought of him pushing her down into the bed, grabbing her thighs, pushing into her with the same focus, the same concentration he reserved for the craft of music.

“Does he know?” Cortez asked.

Nadine swallowed hard. “Know what?” She had to get out of there. She couldn’t think straight.

“Does your boyfriend have any idea how insatiable you are?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Does he know how demanding you are? That when we were married, you required two, sometimes three orgasms in one night? That sometimes you wanted my tongue, and other times all you wanted was my rock hard c—”

Nadine swung at him, but he caught her wrist. His fingers tightened around her arm and she winced.

“That’s not very nice. You should never resort to violence.” He hauled her forward and she lost her balance, tumbling into his chest. She put out a hand to brace herself and the springy hairs tickled her palm.

“All right, you’ve proved your point,” Nadine said in a tremulous whisper.

“No.” His gray-blue eyes scoured her face. He examined her features as though branding her image into his brain. Below his waist, she could feel his body stir to life. “I haven’t proven my point yet.”

Then he crushed her mouth beneath his.

CHAPTER FIVE

They’d been edging toward this explosive kiss from the minute they started arguing—maybe even from the moment they saw each other at the airport.

Cortez’s tongue pressed against the seam of her mouth, and with embarrassing ease, Nadine’s lips fell apart to allow the moist invasion. He swept the interior with such boldness, such authority, that a tremor rattled through her body. The kiss consumed and took over all her senses. Explosive. Powerful. Like a pyrotechnic display with no holds barred.

Cortez cradled the back of her head in his large hand and sifted his fingers through her short hair, keeping her locked against him. Her scalp tingled at his touch, and her heart careened against her ribs in excitement. It had been so long since she’d felt his hands on her and his mouth on hers. She strained to get closer, eagerly sucking and gorging on the sweetness of his flavor.

His hand climbed up her side beneath her shirt and her breasts drew tight and throbbed, demanding to be touched. When he finally covered one with his warm hand, she released a low, heavy moan of immense relief and tipped her head back. His mouth immediately fastened on her neck, tongue tracing the arch of her throat while his hand squeezed her breast and she trembled, overwhelmed by sensation as her nipple swelled against his cupping hand.

She noted that the texture of his hand had softened. Rough calluses, from years of playing music, were gone from the tips of his broad fingers. His other hand pushed beneath the hem of her loose shorts and grabbed one butt cheek. Deep in a sensual haze, Nadine arched her hips, grinding against the thick arousal tenting his pants to relieve the swelling ache between her thighs. It was as if they’d leaped back in time—pawing, grabbing, kissing on each other with unchecked enthusiasm.

Suddenly, Cortez lifted his head and looked down at Nadine with half-closed eyes that glittered with need, his heavy breathing ragged and unstable. “Now I’ve proven my point,” he rasped.

His warm breath brushed against her lips, and the thumb stroking along the crease of her hip wreaked havoc with her nerves. With an abrupt shake of the head, he released her, staring at her in wide-eyed disbelief, obviously shaken by the powerful attraction that still existed between them.

Nadine staggered back and grabbed onto the butcher-block island at her back for balance. She needed to put distance between them, but for the moment couldn’t move—could barely even think. Her brain had shut down.

She didn’t know what had made him stop, but she was glad one of them had done so. If it had been up to her, they’d be horizontal on the kitchen floor in a few minutes. Something they’d done before. In fact, they’d christened almost every nook of the house, and she was hard-pressed to find a room in which he hadn’t made her come.

When he touched her like that, she could almost forget why they’d divorced. Strangers, virtual enemies in the end, they used to square off like boxers, retreating to their own corners after they’d lobbed verbal blows at each other that bruised egos and hurt feelings.

The loudest noise in the room was the trembling inhalation of her breaths. She couldn’t control the sound, a glaring manifestation of how undone she’d become by a simple kiss. Yet nothing was simple with Cortez. She couldn’t believe that after three years she still reacted so strongly to him.

“You had no right to do that.” Her voice was unsteady. She took a deep breath. “Tomorrow I’m getting a hotel.”

“You will not stay in a hotel,” Cortez said between gritted teeth.

“Well, I can’t stay here if you’re going to maul me,” Nadine shot back, completely ignoring her own role in their heated kiss. She held a hand to her lips to hide their trembling.

“You’re an Alesini,” he said, as if that explained everything.

“In name only. You’re not responsible for me.”

“You’re the mother of my child! I will always be responsible for you, and you will not stay in a hotel like a stranger.” The vehemence in his voice took her by surprise. She didn’t know what upset him more. The denial of his name or the desire to find lodging elsewhere.

“Of course Antonella would rather have you here,” he added in a calmer voice. “Stay. I…won’t touch you again.” He clenched his hands into fists.

Nadine swallowed. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“Don’t raise your hand to me and you have nothing to worry about,” Cortez said in a raw tone.

She angled her chin upward but watched him warily, doubting him.

“You have my word. I promise to keep my hands to myself. I had a momentary lapse in judgment and it won’t happen again.”

“If you touch me again, I’m leaving,” Nadine warned.

Tension hummed in the room as they stared at each other. She waited for his response, but when there was none forthcoming, she found the strength to leave. Hurrying from the room, she raced up the stairs on unsteady legs, managing on adrenaline alone. When she shut the door to the bedroom, she couldn’t make it to the bed. It might as well have been a thousand miles away.

She was shaking so badly, she slid to the floor. He’d branded her in multiple ways. She touched her fingers to her lips. They burned from the heat of his kiss, and the taste of him remained on her tongue. Even his scent—masculine, robust—had been absorbed into her skin.

In no time at all, Cortez had made her feel jittery and out of control. As if their years apart had never been, and no time had passed at all.

She still had seven days to go.

****

Raking a hand through his hair, a line of bitter curses flew from Cortez’s lips.

He waited until he thought Nadine was back in her bedroom before he risked taking the stairs. His body tightened as he passed her bedroom door, and he almost pushed his way in to relieve the lust raging through his body.

He was forty-three years old, but she had him as discombobulated as a man with far less maturity. The thick pounding of blood in his veins had shot south within moments, turning his flesh hard and unyielding, hungry for a chance to bury deep inside of her. He knew he should exercise some measure of self-control, but Nadine made him feel out of control. Always had. She elicited emotional responses from him that no one else could. He’d written songs about life, the birth of their daughter, and his family, but it was Nadine who had inspired his best work.

She’d been there less than twenty-four hours—less than twelve hours—and he hadn’t been able to resist touching her. If he couldn’t go twelve hours, how the hell was he going to make it through the next week?

Cortez banked the corner and pushed open the double doors of the master bedroom suite. In the silent room, he lay on his back and placed a hand over his groin and his hefty erection. He massaged his stiff flesh through the silk pants, but it wasn’t enough. He grimaced as sexual hunger continued to run rampant through him.

Closing his eyes, he slipped a hand beneath the waistband and stroked his hard erection. Then he let his imagination run wild with everything he wanted to do to his wife.

Ex-wife.

______________

Feel free to answer one or both of these questions in the comments:

QUESTION: In this episode, we learn that Cortez is paying for the house Nadine and Antonella live in. Does that give him any right to tell Nadine she can’t have company because he’s paying for it?

QUESTION: How many days do you think Cortez and Nadine will last before they hook up? 

***Subscribe to my newsletter to get an email alert for each episode. => SUBSCRIBE

 

Filed under: Writing

Still in Love: Episode 2

Here is the next episode of Still in Love, a serial novel that will run on my blog through the summer. I’ll have a new blog post of one or two chapters every Friday. Subscribe to my newsletter to get an email alert for each episode. => SUBSCRIBE

BLURB

Three years ago, Nadine Alesini divorced her husband and left Buenos Aires with her daughter in tow. Now she’s back and forced to spend time with the man she left behind.

Cortez Alesini long ago accepted that his music career aided in the demise of his marriage. So he didn’t expect that he and Nadine would spend passionate nights together while she’s back in his country, causing them to question if they gave up too soon. But the reappearance of someone from his past immediately causes friction, and may destroy any chance they have at a true reconciliation.

Episode 1

Chapter Two

Cortez slipped back on his sunglasses. While he carried on a conversation with his daughter, he kept an eye on his wife—ex-wife. After all this time, one would think his brain would have grown accustomed to the fact that she was no longer his spouse, but every now and again he slipped up. She had been his first wife—should have been his only wife—but anger and mutual pain had caused irreparable damage in their marriage and torn them apart.

She hardly looked her forty years, wearing a loose-fitting shirt with billowing long sleeves, a pair of jeans that molded to round hips—meant for a man’s hands to hold onto—and thick thighs to lose himself between. Then there was her incredible ass, which he hadn’t been able to resist ogling as she moved past him to enter the car.

His fingers folded tightly into his palm, and he resolved not to be distracted by her appearance, no matter how unbearable it was to be this close and not able to touch.

He’d almost declined his sister’s request to have Nadine stay at the house, but Elsa had pleaded with him because she’d promised Nadine she wouldn’t have to worry about the cost of lodging if she came for the wedding. Yet in the midst of all the preparations, she had clearly forgotten to pass on the message to Nadine about the change of plans.

The limo paused at the security gate of Nortada, located on the outskirts of Buenos Aires, and one of the first communities of its kind in Argentina. They rolled through the entrance, past the first of nine neighborhoods that occupied the affluent enclave filled mostly with upper-middle-class families, but also wealthy businesspeople and celebrities.

A family of ducks waddled across the street—not an unusual sight in this peaceful environment—to get to the man-made lake on the other side. The purple blooms of jacaranda trees lined the road and fought to wrestle attention from the bright yellow of the lemon trees, whose fragrance could be detected even through the car’s barrier of glass and steel.

They’d chosen this place as their home because of the numerous amenities which ensured residents could have all their needs satisfied within the gates. Not only did they have their own medical center, the sports center offered rugby, soccer, American football, and tennis. A mall offered a below-ground supermarket, with clothing and small restaurants occupying the upper two floors. Then there were four private schools, one of which was the bilingual Catholic school Antonella had attended before she and her mother moved to the States. Over the years, he and his former bandmates from Los Tigres had put on shows at the performing arts center to raise funds used to preserve and maintain the community’s green space.

Life at Nortada was truly utopian living, which many on the outside complained was elitist and provided an unrealistic view of the world for the children raised within its borders. But during the height of his performing career, he’d seen it as the perfect place to raise a family and the privacy and security put his mind at ease when he traveled, except now he had to endure the tranquil landscape alone. His carefully constructed paradise was nothing more than a glamorous cell.

The black iron gates of his own abode eased open and the limo came to a stop in the circular driveway of the two-story mansion. An elegant structure of cream-colored stone, the house stood out even among the many jewels in the development. For him and Nadine, it didn’t just say We made it, it was a place they’d envisioned living for many years and raising a large family.

Joachim preceded them into the house with the bags, and as soon as they entered, Philippa, the housekeeper, came shuffling into the large foyer. Her rotund face exploded into a big smile when she saw Antonella and Nadine.

“¿Cómo estás, la chiquita?” Philippa spread her arms wide, and Antonella ran into them, pressing her face into the woman’s large bosom.

After their effusive greeting, she sent a more cautious smile in Nadine’s direction. “Hola, señora. I have prepared the room next to Antonella for you.”

“Thank you, Philippa.” Nadine took the housekeeper’s hand. They had a special bond because Nadine had hired her, and when he’d go on the road for months, the two had become very close. “I’m a little tired, so I think I’d like to take a nap, if that’s okay.” She turned to face Cortez.

Her eyes were so dark they appeared as shiny and luxurious as black onyx, and he was struck again by her effortless beauty. The brick-red top showed off the sepia-brown tone of her skin, and the straight bob cut framed her features perfectly—a round face, full nose, and a tasty mouth that could set his blood afire with the lightest brush.

He mentally shook himself when he realized they all awaited a response from him. “I think you both should probably get some rest after such a long flight.” He looked pointedly at Antonella.

“We’ve been up since the crack of dawn,” Antonella announced.

They all chuckled.

“On that note, we’ll head on up,” Nadine said.

Antonella raced up the stairs, and Nadine followed behind at a more reasonable pace.

Philippa watched them go, hands clasped together in front of her. “It’s good to have Mrs. Alesini back.” She looked very pleased, smiling much more than the occasion warranted, as if Nadine was back for good.

“She’s only here for a week,” Cortez reminded her. Antonella’s winter break ended next week.

“Yes, but it’s a good way to start the New Year, isn’t it?” Expectant brown eyes sought out his.

“It is,” Cortez agreed in a measured voice. He dared not get too excited.

By the pleased expression on Philippa’s face, his answer sufficed. “I’ll prepare dinner so that everyone can eat together.”

“I won’t be here for dinner.” Cortez fished in his pocket for the keys to one of his cars. “I have an unplanned dinner meeting tonight—some business I need to wrap up before the wedding.”

“Yes, sir.” Philippa took off toward the kitchen.

She had been devastated when he and Nadine divorced. Not only for the dissolution of the marriage, but because she had come to love Antonella as one of her own. While she was accustomed to seeing his siblings and their families around, he lived alone in this house—a house she’d stated only a few months ago should be shared with a wife and children. Perhaps she felt sorry for him, but he had to dispel any wishful thoughts she had.

“Philippa.”

“Yes, Mr. Alesini.”

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

Her face shifted into a neutral expression. With a curt nod, she said, “Yes, sir.”

Deep in thought, Cortez went into the garage. He climbed into the black Mercedes-Benz and drove through the gate. A quick glance at the clock on the dashboard let him know he had plenty of time before his dinner meeting at nine. Perfect, since he had to stop at the office to pick up and review several documents beforehand.

Tonight’s meeting had been one he’d tried to avoid, but he was knee-deep in contract negotiations with the management team of a hot new boy band one of his scouts had seen playing at a riverside cafe in the Puerto Madero neighborhood. His record label, Musica Fuerte, wanted to sign them, but the boys’ team of three—made up of two of the boys’ parents, who happened to be attorneys—was playing hardball because they knew the bankability of the young men. They were at the right age, ranging from fifteen to seventeen, good-looking, all played instruments, and sang in both Spanish and English.

The potential to make them into megastars was evident. He envisioned them becoming very popular in Latin America and even having crossover success in the United States, something he himself had only achieved on a small scale. If he could get their parents to adjust their unrealistic demands.

Cortez cruised to a stop behind several cars at the traffic light.

The outdoor cafés were filled with patrons sipping coffees, tea, reading, and chatting with friends. It reminded him of another time—the day he’d met Nadine. After their initial meeting, they’d had a whirlwind romance. Her family had warned her about her unemployed foreign boyfriend and his seductive conversation, but she’d ignored them all, as completely enamored with him as he had been with her.

Cortez gripped the steering wheel and accelerated behind the advancing traffic. Sentimentality threatened to overtake him, and much as he tried, he couldn’t shake off the memories.

Her bottom may be a little fuller, her hips a little wider, but in essence, Nadine was the same woman he’d met fifteen years ago at that café—long before his singing career catapulted him to international stardom. At that first meeting, she’d made more than a great first impression on him.

He’d fallen in love with her.

(For Chapter Three, Click –> NEXT PAGE)

Filed under: Writing

Still in Love: Episode 1

Welcome! Today begins the latest serial book on my blog, Still in Love. If you’ve followed me over the past few years, you already know what to expect. For the newbies, every Friday morning you’ll get a new episode from … Continue reading →

New Release – JUST FRIENDS and a Giveaway!

Just Friends, the third book in the Johnson Family series, is now available! It’s the story of Trenton Johnson and his best friend, Alannah Bailey. So far, it’s the longest book in the series. After the introductory sale price of $2.99, it’ll go to the regular retail price of $4.99.

By the way, if you want to see the models I thought perfectly represented the characters, I shared their pics on Facebook. For the heroine, I chose Kirby Griffin and for the hero, I chose Isha Blaaker.

****GIVEAWAY*** 

There are two ways you can win an autographed copy of Just Friends!

First, I’ve set aside copies just for newsletter followers only. Entering is easy peasy. Just drop your email address in the form below.  I’ll use the list randomizer at random.org to choose the winners. NOTE: Make sure you enter the email address you use to subscribe to my newsletter.

Prize: 4 autographed copies of Just Friends (3 for U.S. entrants and 1 for international entrants)

Eligibility: You must be a subscriber to my author newsletter. If you’re not, click here ==> SUBSCRIBE.

How to enter: Use the form below.

Deadline: 11:59 pm EST on March 31st. Winners will be posted in the comments after the 31st.

Second, if you’re on GoodReads, use the link below to  enter the giveaway I have going on over there. Click the link below.

==> GoodREADS GIVEAWAY LINK 

BLURB

Should they risk their friendship for a chance at love?

Alannah Bailey is tired of being the boring best friend of Trenton Johnson and decides on a makeover. After the changes, she starts dating, but instead of being happy, Trenton acts like he wants to keep her under lock and key.

Trenton is used to partying and having his pick of women. Such an advantage comes with the Johnson name, their money, and his own good looks. When he needs downtime, he depends on his best buddy, Alannah. But he doesn’t like the changes he sees in her lately, and by the time he figures out why, it might be too late.

Note: This story takes place during the same timeframe as Perfect, Book 2 of the Johnson Family series.

EXCERPT

Alannah turned to face him, and her hazel eyes met his hesitantly. “I’ve been doing some thinking. I’m not getting any younger.”

“None of us are.”

“And…well, I want to make some changes in my life. So…you know what, it’s better for me to show you than tell you.” She removed the bonnet from her head and released her hair. Running her fingers through the strands, she sifted them loose until they tumbled past her shoulders. “What do you think?”

Trenton took a good look at her. He walked over and lifted a few soft strands and rubbed them between his fingers. “You colored it.”

“Yes.” Alannah bit the inside of her bottom lip. “What do you think?”

“I like it,” he said slowly. The vibrant auburn brightened her light amber skin tone. “Brings more attention to your freckles.” Rust-colored spots lay splattered across her nose and cheeks. He grinned and tweaked her nose.

She slapped his hand away. “Really? Ugh.” She hated her freckles, but he thought they were cute. She turned around so he could see her hair from the back and pushed her fingers through the shiny strands, shaking her head so the thick mass rippled back and forth across her back. “I had it cut in layers, too.” Turning back around, she said, “I know it’s pretty drastic. Well, for me it’s drastic, but I only had a few inches cut off. The craziest thing is the color. Auburn. Can you believe it? After having dull brown hair all my life, I went with auburn.” Her eyes brightened and filled with the excitement of the change.

“It’s an attention getter,” Trenton said evenly. “Hey, where are your glasses?” Being nearsighted, she seldom went without her glasses. Every time she took them off, she walked around squinting.

“Oh, that’s the other thing.” She pointed to her eyes. “Contacts.”

“Contacts?”

“Yes. I have the long-wearing ones that you can sleep in. It took me a while to get used to them. Sometimes I still reach for my glasses and then realize they aren’t there. It’s crazy, but yep, I’m wearing contacts now. I’ve had them for a week already.”

Trenton scratched the back of his head. “I don’t understand. What’s going on with you? What’s with all the changes?”

Alannah shrugged and started spooning food onto the plates again. “Like I said, I’m not getting any younger. It’s time for me to act and look like a woman.”

“I liked the way you looked before.”

She smiled briefly at him over her shoulder. “That’s sweet, but you’re saying that cause you’re my friend. I want to know what a man thinks.”

“I’m a man.” What the hell?

She giggled on her way to the refrigerator. “You know what I mean. You’re more like a girlfriend than a man.”

Trenton stiffened. Since when?

As Alannah poured lemonade—hers was good and tart because she made it with fresh lemons and none of that powdered stuff—into two glasses, he paid closer attention to her. She didn’t just look different, she was acting different. She displayed more confidence than usual. And the shorts had to be the shortest pair of shorts he’d ever seen her wear. They put her legs on display in a way that made him take notice. Had her legs always been that long?

She was small up top but thick on the bottom, and the contrast was never more noticeable than today. Her butt appeared round and full, and her hips looked as if they’d widened since he’d seen her last. Not likely, but still.

Dayum.

“No comment?” Alannah handed him a glass of lemonade.

Trenton blinked. “About what?”

“About everything. My new look?” Her voice fell off into a soft, disappointed whisper. She’d expected a different reaction, and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t excited for her.

“You look nice. I mean, you know, it’s different. The changes will take some getting used to.” Trenton took a large swig of lemonade, wishing the glass contained something stronger.

She nodded and handed him a plate of brown rice, seafood with panang curry, and three basil rolls.

“Hey.” He stepped closer, studying her downturned face. “You took me by surprise, but you look really nice.” This change couldn’t have been easy for her to make. She wasn’t the kind of person to bring attention to herself. She preferred to be quiet and in the background, so auburn hair really was a drastic change.

“You’re not just saying that?” She looked up at him with uncertainty.

“From one girlfriend to the other, I’m not just saying that.” He grinned and she grinned back. “Come on, let’s go watch that movie you promised me. It better not be a foreign film, either.”

“You liked the last one,” she said, following him into the living room.

“Just because I liked it doesn’t mean I want to see that mess all the time.”

She sighed dramatically. “This one is a South Korean thriller.”

He groaned. “So I have to read subtitles?”

“Oh my goodness. What a horror. You have to read.”

“That mouth of yours is going to get you into serious trouble one day.”

Plates in hand, they piled onto the sofa and set the drinks on the table closest to Trenton. Alannah folded her legs beneath her and turned on the television. A few presses of the remote and the opening scene rolled out, immediately capturing their attention with an explosion.

Trenton forked a shrimp into his mouth. He chewed slowly, ruminating on Alannah’s altered appearance. “What brought on all these changes? Are you really worried about getting older?”

“Well…”

Her hesitation caught his attention. “Well what? Are you seeing someone?” He stared at her.

“No.” She ducked her head and her hair fell forward, hiding her face so he couldn’t see all her features.

“Are you sure that’s a no, or do you really mean yes?” Discomfort set up residence in his stomach. She hadn’t mentioned she was seeing anyone, and if she was, he’d certainly never seen her go to all this trouble for a man before.

Alannah moved rice around on her plate with the fork. “I’m not seeing anyone, but there is a guy at work. I don’t know…he’s attractive and seems nice.” She shrugged.

“What guy? I didn’t know there was a guy.” They told each other everything, but she’d been holding out on him.

“It’s not a big deal. He doesn’t work in my department. I noticed him, that’s all. And I think he already has a girlfriend, anyway.” She bit into a basil roll, the crispy vegetables crunching between her teeth.

“Do I know him?” He’d been to her job plenty of times and knew a lot of her coworkers.

“No,” she said shortly.

“Hold up, what’s going on?” Trenton set his plate on the glass coffee table. “If your mystery man is with someone, why are you going through all these changes?”

She sighed. “Can we watch the movie, please?”

“No.” Trenton picked up the remote and paused the movie.

She shot him an annoyed look.

“Talk to me.”

Alannah gave him the silent treatment and stared at the TV screen.

“What happened in Arizona?” Trenton asked.

She tilted her face away from him, again keeping her expression hidden.

“Hey.” Trenton grasped her chin and forced her head back around to him. “What’s going on, Lana? What happened? Did somebody hurt you?” The thought of anyone hurting her filled him with rage. One hand clenched into a fist, and he leaned in, paying close attention to her body language.

She shook her head. “Nobody hurt me, and nothing happened in Arizona. It’s…everything, Trent. I’m tired of being me. I want to be noticed.” Watery eyes looked up at him.

“What’s this?” Trenton took her plate and placed it beside his. Then he pulled her into his arms and she pressed her face into his chest. “There’s nothing wrong with you, knucklehead.”

She sniffled and swiped a tear from her cheek. “I know there’s nothing wrong with me—not anything major, but I want to stand out.”

“Well, auburn hair will do it,” he said. She lightly punched him in the stomach and he laughed, giving her an affectionate squeeze. “It’s a compliment, dipsh*t.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. I like the color.”

“Terri suggested it,” Alannah said, referring to one of her close girlfriends.

He had reservations about her friend’s influence but kept the comment to himself. He kissed the top of her head. A new scent. Liking it, he smiled a little and took a bigger whiff.

“Your hair smells different.”

“I’m trying a new shampoo. It’s honeysuckle scented.”

Trenton took another whiff. He really liked that scent. Stroking her hair, he asked, “Nobody messed with you, though, right?”

“No, Trent.” She sat up and away from him, breathing heavily, an annoyed sound. “I’m not eight years old anymore. You don’t have to keep protecting me.”

His throat closed up, and the discomfort he’d experienced earlier reappeared and filled all the corners of his stomach. He’d always been there. For twenty-two years, they’d always been there for each other. He didn’t know any other way to behave.

“That’s bullsh*t. We have each other’s back.”

Her shoulders slumped. “I know,” she said quietly.

He took her hand, rubbing a thumb over the slenderness of her wrist and the delicate, narrow fingers. “We look out for each other. That’s what we do.”

“Yeah.” Her upper lip trembled but she forced a smile. “Best friends forever,” she said, repeating the mantra they’d said for years.

“Forever,” he confirmed. He squeezed her hand.

Instead of happiness, Trenton thought he saw sadness in the depths of her eyes. But before he could properly analyze the emotion, she averted her gaze, picked up her plate, and restarted the movie.

“Yay, I’m really looking forward to reading this movie,” he grumbled.

Alannah rolled her eyes. “Give it a chance,” she said, past a mouthful of seafood.

He picked up his own plate, set his feet on the coffee table, and reclined against the back of the sofa.

But Alannah’s minor meltdown stayed with him for a long time after the movie started. Every now and again he watched her from the corner of his eye. She appeared normal enough, back to her old self, yet he suspected she hadn’t told him everything. The makeover and what she’d said worried him. He had a feeling even bigger changes were coming.

And he wasn’t going to like a single one of them.

_________

Just Friends is 40% off until March 31st! It’s only $2.99 and goes to the regular price of $4.99 on April 1st. Get your copy early and save!

Save $2.00 on your print copy of Just Friends when you pre-order at $7.99. It goes to the regular price of $9.99 on April 1st. Get your copy early and save!

Buy it now: Amazon | Barnes & Noble  | iBooks | All Romance Ebooks | Google Play | Kobo | Smashwords | Amazon Print

Read all about the billionaire Seattle family in the best-selling series…
The Johnson Family Series

Filed under: Giveaways, Writing Update

The Color of Love Blog Hop

If this is your first time visiting my virtual home, welcome! I’m Delaney Diamond and I write sweet and sensual romance novels. With the #WeNeedDiverseBooks hashtag that gained momentum  this year, there’s been a lot of talk about diversity in … Continue reading →