Dani Collins's Blog, page 35

Release Day - His Mistress With Two Secrets!

His Mistress With Two Secrets, Book Two of the Sauveterre Siblings, is here! Read on for a link to browse 21 books you can get for free.

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Thank You!

So this happened last week:

Thank you so much for making His Mistress With Two Secrets #1 on all of Mills & Boon. I'm touched and delighted by how well the Sauveterres are being received. When I committed to a four book series, I could only hope that others would love the concept as much as I did. I'm really thrilled you're enjoying them.

Here's what some of the early readers are saying:

"...one you will want to read in one sitting... A fabulous story that should not be missed."

"Like the first book, His Mistress with Two Secrets captures your interest from page one... Rich with detail, dialogue, family dynamics and drama…this story is bound to keep you riveted."

SampleSunday

His Mistress With Two Secrets tells the story of Henri, the eldest Sauveterre, twin of Ramon. All the stories stand alone, but if you like to read in order, you can click here to find out more about Book One, Pursued By The Desert Prince, which features Angelique, second to youngest, twin of Trella.

Here are the opening pages for His Mistress With Two Secrets, where Cinnia is shocked by more than the discovery she is pregnant with Henri's twins. Enjoy!

~ * ~

PROLOGUE

As she entered the clinic from the stairwell, Cinnia Whitley almost knocked the door into a woman standing inside. Cinnia murmured a distracted apology, thinking she might have seen her before, but not here. She would remember someone so tall and stiff and alert standing in that particular place.

Wait. Was she a guard? It was an odd place to hover. Maybe that’s why she seemed so familiar. After spending two years with sober-faced watchmen dogging her movements, perhaps it wasn’t the face she recognized so much as the attitude.

Because, if the woman was merely a relative waiting on a patient, there was a very comfortable lounge at the front of the clinic. The back entrance was for people like Cinnia, the paranoid ones who crept in through the building’s underground car park in hopes of keeping her visit to this prenatal specialist strictly confidential.

Cinnia didn’t bother speculating who the celebrity patient could be. She had bigger fish to fry. She was here for a scan to confirm suspicions on why she was expanding so quickly.

No, she kept thinking, absolutely refusing to entertain the most likely reason. She had a lot of work to get through in the next twenty-two weeks and had struggled to find time for another morning off for this test. If the doctor’s suspicions were correct, her entire future would have to be recalibrated.

Twins? Really? No. Multiple births weren’t even hereditary when they were identical and she thought only mothers passed along the fraternal trait. A father with an identical brother and two younger, identical twin sisters couldn’t pass that to his offspring.

Could he?

Henri did whatever he wanted. She knew that much.

She did not miss that arrogance, or him, or the life he led with guards like that one dogging his every step, she assured herself with another flick of a glance at the woman by the door.

So why did she spend her mornings combing through online gossip pages, reading every scrap she could find about him? Reading that Henri was back to his old ways of dating and dropping was pure self-destruction, but at least there wasn’t much written about that. His twin, Ramon, was stealing all the thunder, still racing and winning while doubling down with his own passionate exploits through a rotation of women who were loved and left.

The Sauveterres were a private lot, despite their domination of the media, but in her time with Henri, Cinnia had noticed that Ramon always seemed to make a splash in the papers when something was going on with the family, like he was deliberately pulling the attention.

Her breakup with Henri was two months ago. Old news by now. It must be Angelique he was trying to cover for.

The brothers were insanely protective of their younger sisters, which was understandable given Trella’s kidnapping when she was a child. Angelique was the only one seen in public these days and was becoming quite notorious, what with her affair with the Prince of Zhamair—or rather both him and the Prince of Elazar, if the online rags were to be believed.

Cinnia frowned, still thinking there was something about the photo of Angelique with the Prince of Elazar that wasn’t right. Impossibly, she had thought it was actually Trella in that photo, but Trella was a recluse. Cinnia had only met her in person a couple of times.

The nurse was on the phone and finally noticed her. Cinnia waved a greeting and tried to smile past her jumbled thoughts. Tried not to think of Henri and twins. It was too big and scary to absorb unless she was forced to.

The nurse indicated to a clerk that Cinnia was here. The clerk nodded and turned to the cabinet to pick out her file.

Cinnia loosened her scarf and started to unbutton her coat, pleased to be warm and dry when it was such a tremendously miserable day, even by London’s late February standards.

Behind her, a door to an exam room opened, startling her into stepping out of the way and turning.

“Oh. Excuse me,” the woman said.

“My fault—” Cinnia began, then blurted, “Oh, my God!” as she recognized that model-like physique and those aristocratic features. “I was just thinking about you!”

“Cinnia!” Angelique beamed and they went in for a hug like long-lost sisters, affection squeezing Cinnia’s arms tight around the other woman, her excitement completely overriding what should have been way more caution on her part.

The reality of Cinnia’s situation hit belatedly and continued to strike in successive slaps over the next few seconds.

Cinnia felt Henri’s sister stiffen as she came up against Cinnia’s baby bump beneath the layers of her clothes.

Don’t tell him, Cinnia thought with panic.

They drew back. Cinnia knew she wore a look of horror, which was awful when she was actually happy about the baby, happy to see—

“Oh, my God,” Cinnia whispered. “I thought you were your sister.”

Cinnia had always been able to tell the twins apart quite easily. It had been surprise and a quick glance and an even quicker assumption that had made her mistake Trella for Angelique. Trella never left the compound in Spain without one of her siblings accompanying her.

Did that mean Henri was here? Cinnia looked around with alarm, only seeing the guard.

Of course—that’s why the guard seemed familiar. She’d seen her at Sus Brazos, the Sauveterre family home in Spain. This was Trella, even though there was nothing distinct to tell the women apart. Cinnia just knew by something in their demeanor. Angelique had that hint of reserve that Henri wore, while Trella had the radiance of warmth that Ramon projected.

Then it hit that not only was it odd for Trella to be out in public, with no family in sight, but she was also in a prenatal clinic.

“Oh. My. God.”

What was the normally cloistered Sauveterre twin doing in London? Holding a bottle of prenatal vitamins and looking guilty as hell? How did a woman who lived like a nun and had female guards get herself pregnant? Henri was going to lose his mind!

Trella tucked the bottle behind her back and opened her mouth, but only a weak “Um” came out.

Cinnia’s eyes were widening to the point they stung. She was pretty sure they were going to fall right out of her head.

She watched Trella’s gaze narrow as the full scope of where they were and why penetrated on her side. Cinnia’s blood pressure had been stable so far, but her limbs began to tingle and her head went so hot she felt like her hair was on fire. She was pretty sure whatever breaths she was managing to draw lost all their oxygen before hitting her lungs.

“Are you…okay?” Cinnia asked hesitantly. She didn’t know exactly what Trella had been through when she had been kidnapped, but she knew it had left her afraid of men for a long time. Afraid of a lot of things.

Trella, being an enormously resilient and self-deprecating person, let out a choke of hysterical laughter and rolled her eyes. It was a “look where I am,” and her shrug conveyed that she was dealing with an unplanned pregnancy, but not one caused by something traumatic.

“How about you?” she challenged with wry cheer, then sobered. She frowned at Cinnia’s middle. “Is it…?” She glanced around.

Henri’s. That’s what she was asking.

Cinnia’s eyes teared up. Please don’t tell him, she silently pleaded.

This was part sitcom, part Greek tragedy. Her own hysterical laugh pressed for escape, but her tight throat wouldn’t release it.

Trella straightened her spine so she was that little bit taller than Cinnia. She gave her wavy dark hair a toss.

“We’ll pretend this didn’t happen.” She was a stunning woman in her midtwenties, but she looked nine years old, hiding stolen candy and bravely pretending it wasn’t in her red-hot hand.

This was the sister Henri had told Cinnia had existed in his childhood, the brat who had driven him crazy getting herself into trouble, always needing big brother to step in and fix it.

Cinnia wanted to hug her again. She was so proud of Trella, even if conquering her past had led to a complicated future.

And she desperately wanted to share this moment with Henri, instinctively knowing that after the shock, this sign of healing in Trella would be a much-needed bright spot.

Or not. Worrying about any Sauveterre would sit heavily on him. Taking care of his mother and sisters was as much responsibility as he was willing to shoulder. That’s why he’d drawn such a hard line against marrying and procreating.

A wistful sigh filled her, but she held it in. Ironic that she wanted to be there for him as he dealt with his sister’s news knowing full well he would lose his mind once he learned Cinnia was carrying his child.

I told you from the beginning I would never marry you.

Her heart clenched afresh, abraded and stung. Scorned.

“Ms. Whitley,” the nurse said behind her. “I can take you, now.”

“It’s really good to see you,” Cinnia said to Trella, holding out her arms for another quick hug. “I’ve missed all of you.”

Most of Cinnia’s interactions with Henri’s family had been over the tablet, but she felt the loss of connection to the Sauveterre clan quite deeply.

“I would ask you to give my regards to everyone, but…” Cinnia trailed off.

Trella’s arms were firm and strong around her. She pulled away slowly, tilting her head so they were eye-to-eye. Would her baby have those Sauveterre eyes, Cinnia wondered with a pang? Babies?

“You and I can stay in touch now,” Trella said with a conspiratorial twitch at the corners of her mouth. Her expression sobered to concern. “Can I call you? I’d like to know why…”

Cinnia knew that keeping the pregnancy from Henri was a losing battle. She just wanted a plan in place before he found out so he wouldn’t feel trapped. Trella was far too close to her siblings to keep her own pregnancy a secret from them for long. Once she spilled those beans, Cinnia’s condition would be quick to follow.

But if she could buy a little time to get her ducks in a row, maybe find out exactly how many babies she was actually having…

She nodded. “If you’re still in London at the end of the week, why don’t we have dinner?”

~ * ~

Want to know what happens next? His Mistress With Two Secrets is available now. Grab your copy here:

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Want a Sneak Peek at all the Sauveterres? Grab the sampler from InstaFreebie. You'll have to sign up for my newsletter, but you can unsubscribe any time. The sample contains the first two chapters of all four books. You'll also get a link to download Cruel Summer, a short story I wrote exclusively for my newsletter members.

21 Free Books

Click here to Browse or click the image, then download and enjoy! (You'll have to sign up for author newsletters, but you can unsubscribe anytime.)

I'll have another big giveaway of free books to announce later in April. Stay tuned.

Have a great weekend. I'm writing this ahead so I can take a few days off myself.

Take care,

Dani

Catching Up!

First, a big thank you to you, Dear Reader!

Pre-Order Amazon: US | CA | UK | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

I try not to let rankings mean too much. I mean, if they're great, I feel great! But if they're not great, I die inside. So I try to keep myself sane by only peeking now and again. Fellow Presents author Jennifer Hayward actually tipped me off to this delightful position I'm in. I'm really (really, really!) thrilled--and grateful. It's all thanks to you, Dear Reader!

I missed posting last week. Sorry! And a second sorry for apologizing. I'm Canadian. It's what we do. A third apology because if I'd only come in here and looked, I had a BitesOfBooks from His Mistress With Two Secrets prepared. Doh!

Ah well, I'll save that for another day. The book doesn't officially release until next Saturday anyway. (Can't wait? Grab it direct from Mills & Boon or Harlequin.)

You can also download the Sauveterre Sampler and read the first two chapters from all for books. Instafreebie will ask you to join my newsletter, but you can unsubscribe anytime and if you're already a member, it won't duplicate.

I have been working really hard on the revisions for Book Four of the Sauveterres, Trella's story. It was kind of killing me, to be honest. Some books do that to you, but I'm happy with the end result. (Whew!)

Now I'm playing catch up starting with my own blog post and staring down at least three guest spots. If I owe you an email, I'm getting there! Lots going on behind the scenes. More news on that soon. Meanwhile...

Giveaway

This starts Monday the 27th, but I wanted to get it on here in case you've happened by while the contest is open.

This is my June book, not linked into the Sauveterres, but I hope you'll enjoy it!

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Goodreads Book Giveaway








Xenakis's Convenient Bride


by Dani Collins

Giveaway ends April 26, 2017.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter Giveaway

Other News

On the home front, hubby has had his wrist surgery. We waited patiently all winter to have it scheduled before we booked a trip. When we finally had the date, it occurred to us there was no sense going somewhere beachy, like Hawaii, if he would have stitches and couldn't go in the water. So we waited until it was starting to heal--which was when we learned my passport had expired.

Now we're waiting for the renewal and, three days into official Spring, it was snowing again. I'm seriously going bananas.

At least when I'm stir crazy, I clean. My office is starting to look like a civilized place.

Have a great weekend!

Being Lazy

I've fallen into the habit of posting an excerpt on the weekend, but cutting and pasting sounds like sooo much work right now.

It's not like I'm feeling over-extended. I'm usually a high-energy, highly-caffeinated person with obsessive compulsive tendencies. I want to go the extra mile, do it faster, and make it bigger with tools I don't have.

I push myself all the time, but I have noticed over the years that when I decide it's time to be lazy, I go all in. No to cooking, no cleaning, yes to binge watching Netflix and eating terrible food.

So this isn't burn out, it's just that my ambition has left the building. I think a big part is this wretched, endless winter. Yesterday we had some sun and I did a better job cleaning the kitchen than it's seen in weeks. Today? I got nothin.

I'm not going to beat myself up over it, though. In fact, I'll probably wallow in it. Weekends are for being lazy, right?

I'll be back next weekend with a #SampleSunday from His Mistress With Two Secrets. Probably. Hopefully.

Meanwhile, take care and I hope you have a relaxing weekend, too.

Pursued By The Desert Prince - Available Now

Somehow my blog fell off my radar this week. I usually have something prepared, but I've been head-down, trying to finish a proposal before revisions come in. But Pursued By The Desert Prince is available on all platforms now! Yay!

Amazon: US | CA | UK | Aus | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

You can also get Book Two, His Mistress With Two Secrets, right now if you buy direct from Mills and Boon or Harlequin.

Amazon: US | CA | UK | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

Other News

I have none! Today is the first sunny day after a gloomy spell. It's been such a long winter and I've spent most of it at my desk.

We've been talking a lot about going away, but one thing an another, it hasn't happened yet. It makes today's sunshine feel like a holiday out there. I'm anxious to take advantage of it, so I'll keep this short, get my word count in, then see if I can catch a couple of rays.

Have a wonderful weekend!

Oops! - Blurb Trouble

I just noticed that the blurb on my page for Pursued By The Desert Prince was from An Heir To Bind Them. Oops! I've asked my website guru to fix it, but I'm posting the proper one below along with a special offer.

Amazon: US | CA | UK | Aus | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

Draped in the desert prince's diamonds…

To ensure his sister's successful marriage, Kasim, Crown Prince of Zhamair, must stop Angelique Sauveterre's alleged affair with his future brother-in-law. But when Angelique denies any involvement, Kasim can't resist the chance to make the feisty beauty his!

Angelique is tempted by Kasim's offer of a fling—always compared to her twin sister, she's never allowed to just be herself. They couldn't be from two more different worlds, yet Angelique blossoms under Kasim's touch and surrenders to the desert prince. But can he give her more than passion and precious jewels?

Samples!

If you missed my #SampleSunday for this one, you can read Chapter One here.

There's also a first kiss here: #BitesOfBooks - Pursued By The Desert Prince

Special Offer

If you want a sneak peek at the whole series, click over to InstaFreebie, sign up for my newsletter, and download the Sauveterre Sampler. You'll have to sign up for my newsletter, but you'll also get a welcome gift - a link to download Cruel Summer, a free (complete) short story romance. (You can unsubscribe any time and if you're already a subscriber, use the same email. The monkeys at Mailchimp will make sure you only get one.)

Click on the image below or get the Sauveterre Sampler here.

~ * ~

Pursued By The Desert Prince is on shelves now and will auto-download to your device on March 1st. Here are your quick links:

Amazon: US | CA | UK | Aus | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

Be sure to watch for Book Two in The Sauveterre Siblings, His Mistress With Two Secrets.

Pregnant with the billionaire's babies!

After the painfully public demise of her intense fling with renowned tycoon Henri Sauveterre, Cinnia Whitley discovers she's pregnant…with twins! Cinnia burns with the memory of his touch, but bearing a new generation of the Sauveterre dynasty will bind her to Henri forever—unless she keeps it a secret…

Henri is infuriated when he discovers Cinnia's deception. His little sister's abduction ended all his intentions of having a family—but any Sauveterre deserves his full protection. Henri must make Cinnia his wife, and he'll show her just how pleasurable their reunion can be!

Amazon: US | CA | UK | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

Want to be the first to see an excerpt of an upcoming book? Join my newsletter! You'll auto-magically receive a link to download Cruel Summer, a short ebook romance I wrote exclusively for my subscribers.

Bites Of Books - Pursued By The Desert Prince

When I completed and submitted my thirtieth book, I decided to celebrate by offering a taste from each one. This is my March 2017 book. Enjoy!

Amazon: US | CA | UK | Aus | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

If you missed my #SampleSunday for this one, you can read Chapter One here.

This scene follows Chapter One. It's their first kiss:

~ * ~

He knew how to use that sexually explicit mouth of his, firmly capturing her lips in a hot, hard kiss. He slid a hand to the back of her head, rocked his damp mouth across hers, and damn well made love to her mouth like he had the absolute right!

She knew immediately that he was punishing her, but not in a violent way. He wanted her response, wanted to make her melt and succumb to him, to prove his mastery of her and this situation.

And he was doing it, sliding right past her resistance, ready to make her his conquest.

Hard-learned shreds of self-protection rallied. She had trained to meet any attack with an attack of her own.

She kissed him back with all the incensed outrage he had provoked in her, all the frustration that he affected her this powerfully.

She didn’t accept his kiss. She matched it. She stepped into his space so the heat off his body penetrated the silk she wore, branding her skin through it. Then she scraped her teeth in a threat across his bottom lip and stabbed her own fingers into his hair. It was completely unlike her to be sexually aggressive, but how dare he come in here with his accusations and intimidations?

Did this feel like she was daunted? Did it?

She felt the surprise in him, and the hardening as he grew excited.

His reaction fed hers. The quickening of arousal in her swelled, rising like a tide that picked her off her feet, washing her in heat, sensitizing her skin and making her hyperaware of her erogenous zones. Her back arched to crush her breasts against his hard chest. Her pelvis nudged into the shape behind his fly, inciting both of them.

His arms tightened around her and he kissed her harder. Not taking control so much as pressing his foot to the accelerator so they burned hotter and faster down the track they were on. His hand slid down to her backside, possessively claiming a plump cheek through silk.

The sensation was so acutely good, the moment rushing so fast beyond her control, Angelique pulled back to release a small moan and gasp for air.

He growled and ran his mouth down her throat, now angling her hips into his so he ground himself against her with blatant intention.

She let him, completely overcome by the moment. She was used to being treated somewhere between a trophy and a revered goddess on a pedestal. No man had ever kissed her like a woman who was not just wanted, but craved. This was real.

It felt earthy and elemental.

Pure.

She let her head hang back, hair falling freely, and maybe, yes, she was succumbing, but not to him. To this. Them. What they were creating together.

He muttered something that sounded like an incantation and his lips moved from her collarbone to the line of her camisole.

She gasped, “Yes,” aching for him to bare her breasts to his mouth, she felt so full and tight. When his hand moved up to her chest to caress along the edge—

Wait.

“Don’t—” she tried to say, but he had already picked up the silver disk of her pendant to move it over her shoulder.

*

One second, Kasim was sunk deep in arousal, well on his way to making love with a woman of exceptional passion.

Then the door crashed open and men burst in with guns drawn.

His heart exploded.

He instinctively tried to shove Angelique behind him, but she resisted, shouting, “I’m fine! Orchid, orchid! Stand down. Orchid!”

She held out a splayed hand like it could deflect bullets and tried to scramble in front of him, as if she could protect him with that soft, slender figure, but Kasim was pumped with as much adrenaline as the invaders. He locked his arms protectively around her while his brain belatedly caught up to recognize that these were guards he’d seen on his way in.

“I’m fine,” Angelique insisted in a shaken tone. “Stand down.

Seriously,” she said with a look up at Kasim that was naked and mortified. “Let me go so I can defuse this.” Her hand pressed his shoulder.

Kasim’s arms were banded so firmly around her, he had to consciously force himself to relax his muscles.

“I’m fine,” she assured her guards as she slid away from him. She was visibly shaking. “Honestly. This was my fault. He was looking at my necklace. I should have warned him to be careful.”

~ * ~

Pursued By The Desert Prince starts shipping from Amazon Feb 21 and will auto-download to your device on March 1st. Here are your quick links:

Amazon: US | CA | UK | Aus | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

Be sure to watch for Book Two in The Sauveterre Siblings, His Mistress With Two Secrets.

Amazon: US | CA | UK | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

Want to be the first to see an excerpt of an upcoming book? Join my newsletter! You'll auto-magically receive a link to download Cruel Summer, a short ebook romance I wrote exclusively for my subscribers.

#SampleSunday - Pursued By The Desert Prince

Available Now on Mills & Boon! Pursued By The Desert Prince is the first in my new quartet about The Sauveterre Siblings, two sets of identical twins. Read the first chapter of book one below.

Amazon: US | CA | UK | Aus | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

About the Sauveterre Twins...

The first pair of twins, Henri and Ramon, were born to a French Tycoon and his Spanish aristocrat wife. They were attractive and remarkably alike, but once the second set, Angelique and Trella, came along, the four children became media sensations. They were so famous, Trella was targeted for kidnapping when she was nine.

The experience left scars still felt by all of them today. In Pursued By The Desert Prince, Angelique struggles with a sense she's abandoning her sister when she falls for Kasim. He's suspicious of her motives and has family troubles of his own that prevent him from offering anything but a heated affair.

Here's the blurb:

Draped in the Desert Prince’s diamonds…

To ensure his sister’s successful marriage, Kasim, Crown Prince of Zhamair, must stop Angelique Sauveterre’s alleged affair with his future brother-in-law. But when Angelique denies any involvement, Kasim can’t resist the chance to make the feisty beauty his!

Angelique is tempted by Kasim’s offer of a fling—always compared to her twin sister, she’s never allowed to just be herself. They couldn’t be from two more different worlds, yet Angelique blossoms under Kasim’s touch, and surrenders to the desert Prince. But can he give her more than passion and precious jewels?

SampleSunday

CHAPTER ONE

Angelique Sauveterre picked up a call from her exterior guards informing her that Kasim ibn Nour, Crown Prince of Zhamair, had arrived to see her.

She slumped back in her chair with a sigh, really not up to meeting someone new. Not after today.

“Of course. Please show him up to my office,” she said. Because she had to.
Hasna had said her brother would drop by while he was in Paris.

Angelique didn’t know why the brother of the bride wanted to meet the designer of the bride’s wedding gown, but she assumed he wanted to arrange a surprise gift. So she didn’t expect this meeting to be long or awful. Her day with Princess Hasna and the bridal party hadn’t been awful. It had actually been quite pleasant.

It was just a lot of people and noise and Angelique was an introvert. When she told people that, they always said, But you’re not shy! She had been horribly shy as a child, though, and brutally forced to get over it. Now she could work a room with the best of them, but it fried her down to a crisp.

She yearned for the day when her sister, Trella, would be ready to be the face of Maison des Jumeaux. An ironic thought, since her twin wore the same face. As she freshened “their” lipstick, Angelique acknowledged that she really longed for Trella to be the one to talk to new clients and meet with brothers of the bride and put on fetes like the one she’d hosted today.

She wanted Trella to be all better.

But she wouldn’t press. Trella had made such progress getting over her phobias, especially in the past year. She was determined to attend Hasna and Sadiq’s wedding and was showing promise in getting there.

It will happen, Angelique reassured herself.

In the meantime… She rolled her neck, trying to massage away the tension that had gathered over hours of soothing every last wedding nerve.

At least she didn’t look too much worse for wear. This silk blend she and Trella had been working on hadn’t creased much at all.

Angelique stood to give a quick turn this way and that in the freestanding mirror in the corner of her office. Her black pants fell flawlessly and the light jacket with its embroidered edges fluttered with her movement while her silver cami reflected light into her face. Her makeup was holding up and only her chignon was coming apart.

She quickly pulled the pins out of her hair and gave it a quick finger-comb so her brunette tresses fell in loose waves around her shoulders. Too casual?

Her door guard knocked and she didn’t have time to redo her hair. She moved to open the door herself.

And felt the impact like she’d stepped under a midnight sky, but one lit by stars and northern lights and the glow of a moon bigger and hotter than the sun could ever hope to be.

Angelique was dazzled and had to work not to show it, but honestly, the prince was utterly spectacular. Dark, liquid eyes that seemed almost black they were such a deep brown. Flawless bone structure with his straight nose and perfectly balanced jawline. His mouth— That bottom lip was positively erotic.

The rest of him was cool and diamond sharp. His country was renowned for being ultra-conservative, but his head was uncovered, his black hair shorn into a neat business cut. He wore a perfectly tailored Western suit over what her practiced eye gauged to be an athletically balanced physique.

She swallowed. Find a brain, Angelique.

“Your Highness. Angelique Sauveterre. Welcome. Please come in.”

She didn’t offer to shake, which would have been a faux pas for a woman in Zhamair.

He did hold out his hand, which was a slight overstep for a man to demand of a woman here in Paris.

She acquiesced and felt a tiny jolt run through her as he closed his strong hand over her narrow one. Heat bloomed under her cheekbones, something his quick gaze seemed to note—which only increased her warmth. She hated being obvious.

“Hello.” Not Thank you for seeing me, or Call me Kasim.

“Thank you, Maurice,” she murmured to dismiss her guard, and had to clear her throat. “We’ll be fine.”

She was exceedingly cautious about being alone with men, or women for that matter, whom she didn’t know, but the connection through Hasna and Sadiq made the prince a fairly safe bet. If a man in the prince’s position was planning something nefarious, then the whole world was on its ear and she didn’t stand a chance anyway.

Plus, she always had the panic button on her pendant.

She almost felt like she was panicking now. Her heart rate had elevated and her stomach was in knots. Her entire body was on all-stations alert. She’d been feeling drained a few seconds ago, but one profound handshake later she was feeling energized yet oddly defenseless.

She was nervous as a schoolgirl, really, which wasn’t like her at all. With two very headstrong brothers, she had learned how to hold her own against strong masculine energy.

She’d never encountered anything like this, though. Closing herself into her office with him felt dangerous. Not the type of danger she’d been trained to avoid, but inner peril. Like when she poured her soul into a piece then held her breath as it was paraded down the catwalk for judgment.

“Please have a seat,” she invited, indicating the conversation area below the mural. There were no pretty views of actual Paris in this windowless room, but the office was still one of her favorite places for its ability to lock out the world. She spent a lot of time on her side of its twin desks and drafting tables.

Trella’s side was empty. She was home in Spain, but they often worked here in companionable silence.

“I just made fresh coffee. Would you like a cup?”

“I won’t stay long.”

That ought to be good news. She was reacting way too strongly to him, but she found herself disappointed. So strange! She took such care to put mental distance between herself and others. The entire world would have this effect on her if she didn’t, but he only had to glance around her private space and she felt naked and exposed. Seen. And she found herself longing for his approval.

He didn’t seem to want to sit, so she pressed flat hands that tremored on the back of the chair she usually used when visiting with clients. “Was there something particular about the wedding arrangements you wanted to discuss?”

“Just that you should send your bill to me.” He moved to set a card on the edge of Trella’s desk.

She turned to follow his movement behind her. So economical and fascinating. And who was his tailor? That suit was pure artistry, the man so obviously yang to her yin.

He caught her staring.

She tucked her hair behind her ear to disguise her blush.

“Her Majesty made the same offer and you needn’t have troubled yourself. It’s a wedding gift for Sadiq and the princess.”

He noted the familiarity of her using Sadiq’s first name with a small shift of his head. “So Hasna said. I would prefer to pay.”

His gaze was direct enough to feel confrontational, instantly amplifying this conversation into one of conflict. Her pulse gave a reflexive zing.

Why would he be so adamant—?

Oh, dear God! He didn’t think she and Sadiq were involved, did he?

Why wouldn’t he? According to the headlines, she’d slept with half of Europe. When she wasn’t doing drugs or having catfights with her models, of course.

“Sadiq is a longtime friend of the family.” She retreated behind the cool mask she showed the world, ridiculously crushed that he would believe those awful summations of her character. “This is something we want to do for him.”

“We.” His gaze narrowed.

“Yes.” She didn’t bring up her sister or what her family owed Sadiq for Trella’s return to them. The fact that Sadiq had never once sought any glory for his heroism was exactly why he was such a cherished friend. “If that was all…” She deliberately presumed she’d had the last word on the topic. “I should get back to the final arrangements for your sister’s things.”

*

Kasim had to applaud his future brother-in-law’s taste. Angelique Sauveterre had grown from a very sweet-looking girl into a stunning young woman. In person, she had an even more compelling glow of beauty.

Her long brunette hair glimmered and shifted in a rippling curtain and what had seemed like unremarkable gray eyes online were actually a mesmerizing greenish hazel. She was tall and slender, built like a model despite being the one to dress them, and her skin held a golden tone that must be her mother’s Spanish ancestry.

Cameras rarely caught her with a smile on her face and when they did, it was a faint Mona Lisa slant that allowed her to live up to the reputation of her father’s French blood: aloof and indifferent.

She wore that look now, but when she had first greeted him, she had smiled openly. Her beauty was so appealing, Kasim had forgotten for a moment why he was here and had been overcome with a desire to pursue her.

Perhaps this captivating quality was the reason Sadiq was so smitten?

“About those arrangements… Today went well?” He had understood it to be the final fitting of his sister’s wedding gown and the bridesmaids’ dresses as well as a private showing of other clothes made for Hasna, all taking place on the runway level of this building. Once the last nips and tucks were completed, the entire works would be packaged up and shipped to Zhamair for the wedding next month.

“You would have to check with the women who were here, but they all seemed pleased by the time they left.” So haughty and quick to keep the focus on his sister.

From what he’d heard around his penthouse, the consensus had been a high level of ecstasy with everything from the clothes to the imported cordial to the finger sandwiches and pastries.

“Hasna doesn’t seem to have any complaints,” he downplayed. “Which is why I’m willing to spare her the nuisance of replacing all that you’ve promised her.”

Angelique was tall in her heels. Not as tall as him, but taller than most women he knew, and she grew taller at his words, spine stiffening while her eyelashes batted once, twice, three times. Like she was filtering through various responses.

“All that we’ve made for her,” she corrected, using a light tone, but it was the lightness of a rapier. Pointed and dangerous. “Why on earth would you refuse to let her have it?”

“You can drop the indignation,” he advised. “I’m not judging. I’ve had mistresses. There is a time to let them go and yours has arrived.”

“You think I’m Sadiq’s mistress. And that as his mistress, I offered to make his bride’s gown and trousseau. That’s a rather generous act for a mistress, isn’t it?”

She repeatedly spat the word as if she was deeply offended.

He pushed his hands into his pants pockets, rocking back on his heels.

“It’s a generous act to arrange a private showing for such a large party at a world-famous and highly exclusive Paris design house.” It hadn’t been only his mother and sister, but Sadiq’s mother and sisters, along with cousins and friends from both sides.

The cost of something like today wasn’t so high as to imperil his riches, of course. The groom’s family could equally afford it and given the extent of the Sauveterre wealth, and the rumors that the family corporation had underwritten this folly of an art project in the first place, he imagined Angelique wouldn’t be too far out of pocket, either.

“Had this afternoon been the only line item offered at no charge, I wouldn’t have batted an eye,” he said. “But the gown? I know my sister’s taste.” He imagined it had easily run to six figures. “And to throw in wedding costumes for the rest of the party? Including mothers of the bride and groom?”

“Sadiq’s parents and sisters are also friends of the family.”

“Plus a full wardrobe for Hasna to begin her married life,” he completed with disbelief. “All at no cost? This is more than a ‘gift’ from a ‘family friend.’ If I had learned of it sooner, I would have taken steps long before today.”

Hasna had been chattering nonstop about her big day, but what did he care about the finer details? He was glad she was marrying for love, he wanted everything to go well for her, but the minutia of decor and food and colors to be worn had meant nothing to him. It wasn’t until he had noted she was grossly under budget—not like her at all—that he had quizzed her on when to expect an invoice for the dress.

“If I’m Sadiq’s mistress, then I should want the fat commission off this! I would have told him to make his bride come to us as a payoff for losing his support—which I don’t need, by the way.” The hiss in her tone sliced the air like a blade. “That is not the way it went at all. Hasna didn’t even know Sadiq knew us. She said we were her dream designer and he arranged it secretly, to surprise her. We’re the ones who decided not to charge him.”

“Yes, funny that he would have kept this tremendously close ‘friendship’—” he let her hear his disdain “—such a secret from the woman he had been courting for a year and professed to love. I might have understood if he was paying you off.” He wouldn’t have condoned it, not when Hasna had fought so hard for a love match and had managed to convince him that Sadiq returned her feelings, but at least he would have seen the why of this ridiculous arrangement.

“Have you discussed this with Sadiq?” she demanded frostily, arms crossed. “Because I am as insulted on his behalf as I am on my own.”

“Sadiq is plainly not capable of doing what is needed. I will advise him after the fact.”

“I am not sleeping with Sadiq! I don’t sleep with married men, or engaged ones, either.”

“I’m fairly confident you stopped sleeping with him once the engagement was announced. I can account for his whereabouts since then.”

“He knows you’re watching him like that? With these awful suspicions about him?”

“I don’t judge him for having lovers prior to settling down. We all do it.”

Although it annoyed him that his brother-in-law had slept with this particular woman. Kasim didn’t examine too closely why that grated. Or wonder too much about how such a soft-spoken man had managed to seduce her. Sadiq had always struck Kasim as being more book-smart than street-smart, earnest and studious and almost as naive as Hasna.

This woman was surprisingly spirited. She would dominate someone like Sadiq.

Which more than explained why Sadiq hadn’t been able to end things as definitively as he should.

“And I’m…what?” she prodded. “Trying to coax him back by outfitting his wife? Your logic is flawed, Your Highness.”

Her impertinence took him aback, it was so uncommon in his life. The most sass he heard from anyone was from his sister and she typically confined it to light teasing, never anything with this much bite.

He found Angelique’s impudence both stimulating and trying. She obviously didn’t understand who she was dealing with.

“Why are you arguing? I’m offering to pay you for the work you’ve done. The more you resist admitting the truth and promising not to see him again, the more likely I am to lose patience and pull the plug on this entire arrangement, Hasna’s tears be damned.”

“You would do that?” Her jaw slacked with disbelief. “To your sister?”

She had no idea to what lengths he would go—had gone—to protect his family.

He wouldn’t allow himself to be drawn into yet another inner debate about his actions on that score. It still wrenched his heart, especially when Hasna still cried so often, but he had done what he had to. Ruthlessly.

And would do it again.

But he would not see his sister’s heart broken again. She loved Sadiq and Sadiq would be the faithful husband she desired him to be. If that meant fast-tracking a new wedding gown, so be it.

He let Angelique read his resolve in his silence.

She stood there with her chin lifted in confrontation, trying very hard to look down her nose at him. “All I have to do is say that I’m Sadiq’s mistress and this goes away?”

“Plus send me the bill and never contact Sadiq again.”

“I can give your money to charity,” she pointed out.

“You can. The important thing is that you will not be able to hold the debt over Sadiq’s head.”

“Ah, finally I learn my real motivation.” Her arms came out in amazement. “I was beginning to think I was the stupidest mistress alive.”

“Oh, I’m quite in admiration of your cleverness, Angelique.”

*

His use of her name made her heart, which was already racing at this altercation, take a jump and spin before landing hard.

“Have we arrived at first names, Kasim?” It was a deliberate lob back, not unlike when she played tennis with her siblings and she was so well matched she had to throw everything she had into each swing of her racket.

This man! She had spent years developing a shield against the world and he brushed it aside like it was a cobweb, making her react from a subterranean level. It was completely unnerving.

His lashes flinched at her use of his given name.

Good.

“Your insolence toward me is unprecedented. Take extreme care, Angelique.”

Her fingernails were digging into her own upper arms, she was so beside herself. She used the sharp sting to keep a cool head. She had training for this type of negotiation, she reminded herself. He thought he was holding a small fortune in seed pearls and silk hostage, but he was actually holding a knife to the throat of her sister’s happiness along with the debt their family owed to Sadiq.

Given that, there was no way Angelique wanted to jeopardize the wedding arrangements or cause a long-term rift.

Listen. That was the first step, she reminded herself as her ears pounded with her racing pulse. Apparently Kasim felt he wasn’t being heard.

“To be clear,” she said with forced calm, “you believe I’ve orchestrated this to put Sadiq into my debt?”

“Perhaps not financially. His family is wealthy in resources and political standing as well as actual gold. You’ve managed to neutralize yourself in my sister’s eyes, so she couldn’t possibly see you as a threat if you were to move in at a later date for whatever Sadiq was deemed useful for.”

“Can I ask how you concluded that I’m so cold-blooded? Because even the online trolls don’t accuse me of this sort of thing.” She was nice! Her family regularly told her she was too nice.

“If your heart was involved, you would have refused this commission altogether. If you wanted to retaliate for a broken heart, you wouldn’t be trying so hard to please Hasna. No. I’ve told you, I’ve had mistresses. I understand exceedingly practical women. This is an investment in your future. I accept that on a philosophical level, but not when it risks my sister’s happiness. That I cannot allow. So.” He nodded decisively at the card he’d left on the desk. “Send me the bill. Do not contact him again.”

He made as if to leave.

“Wait!” She leaped forward and grabbed his arm.

He froze, gaze locking onto her hand on his sleeve for one powerful heartbeat before he lifted his eyes. His face was filled outrage and something else, something glittering and fiercely masculine.

“Have we arrived at that level of familiarity, Angelique?” He pivoted in a swift move to face her, taking her own arm in his opposite grip.

It was the sudden dive and snatch of a predatory bird catching prey in its talons.

They stood like that in what seemed like a slowdown in time. Her heart pounded so hard her lungs could barely inflate against it.

“We’re not finished t-talking.” Her voice came out painfully thin. She knew she should release him and step back, but she was quite blown away by the masculine interest that flared to life in his gaze.

She wasn’t falsely modest. She knew she was beautiful. It was one of the reasons camera lenses so often turned on her. Men looked at her with desire all the time.

There was no reason she should react to this man’s naked hunger. But she did.

A very animalistic sexual reaction pierced deep in her loins, flooding her with heat and… Yes, it was reciprocal desire. He was looking at her as if he found her appealing and she certainly found him as attractive as they came. There might even be something chemical here because her gaze dropped involuntarily to his mouth. Longing rose within her.

His lips quirked.

She knew he was reading her reaction and was amused. It stung. She felt raw and gauche. It was the bane of her existence that she couldn’t always stop whatever feelings were overtaking her. This was so intense it was unprecedented, touching her at all levels. Physical, mental, emotional… He held her entire being enthralled.

“We are finished talking,” he said, while his arm bent against her grip. His hand arrived at her waist, hot and sure. His other hand tightened slightly on her arm, drawing her forward a half step, commanding, but not forcing. “If you would like to start something new, however…”

Don’t, she ordered herself, but it was too late. His mouth was coming down to hers and she was parting her lips in eager reception.

~ * ~

Want more? If you'd like to read a sampler with the first two chapters from all four books, drop me an email. I'll send you the link. If you're sold on this one, here are your buy links:

Amazon: US | CA | UK | Aus | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

Be sure to watch for Book Two in The Sauveterre Siblings, His Mistress With Two Secrets.

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Want to be the first to see an excerpt of an upcoming book? Join my newsletter! You'll auto-magically receive a link to download Cruel Summer, a short ebook romance I wrote exclusively for my subscribers.

Bites Of Books - Only In His Sweetest Dreams

When I completed and submitted my thirtieth book, I decided to celebrate by offering a taste from each one. This book just came out Feb 1st. Enjoy!

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FirstKiss

Does it need more intro than that?

~ * ~

Oh God, she had known this man would know how to kiss. His mouth was firm, but capable of being tender, possessing and retreating, taking in a bold pressure, then easing to something almost like comfort before he wrapped his arm behind her and pulled her in to be devoured.

She consumed him right back, flattening her hand on the hot, thin cotton across his back and jamming herself against all that muscled heat. Their tongues met and the jolt of excitement tore of sob of want from her throat. He hitched her closer still, tilting her head back a little more, so her mouth was fully under his. He moved his tongue in a slow penetration and retreat. His hand brushed past the open edge of her top and cupped her breast through her tank, massaging with firm pressure.

A rush of dampness wet her panties and she arched into him, rubbing against the ridge she could feel like a log pressing into her abdomen. She instantly wanted him. Basic and thorough and animalistic and oh, so satisfying.

“Damn,” he muttered, pulling away, kissing her again, wet and hard, then a little softer. “You wanna go somewhere?”

“No,” she moaned, dropping her forehead into his collarbone. “We shouldn’t have done this. You know that, right?” She lifted her head, making herself face what she expected would be a peeved expression. If he called her a tease, she would hate him, but she wouldn’t blame him.

His mouth formed a dismayed line, but there wasn’t any censure there. His gaze stayed flinty and he continued to hold her waist even when she moved her hands to his forearms.

“Are you mad?” she had to ask.

He snorted. “Babe, I’ve been turned down as often as I’ve been waved in. I’ll survive.”

She wasn’t sure she believed that. She had a feeling he’d been waved in a lot.

“Look.” His hands moved restlessly against her waist. “If you need to let off some steam, I get it. I am more than willing to be your release. But for what’s it’s worth, I’m not just looking to get laid. Which doesn’t mean I’m looking for a relationship. I’m definitely not. But I’m not trying to get you into bed because you’re the only woman under eighty in my neighborhood.” His mouth quirked, but she could tell he was being sincere. “I like you. You turn me on. I think we’d cause some needle jumps on the Richter scale. But if you don’t want to do that, that’s okay. We can still talk about the kids and I’ll still fix your house.”

She swallowed, fingers unable to resist stroking the smooth skin of his strong forearms. “I don’t care what Mrs. Garvey says about you. I think you’re nice.”

She was being cheeky and he smirked in response.

“Nice?” He gave a fake spit and dropped his hold with mock disgust. “If you’re going to stand here and insult me, I’m going inside.”

~ * ~

Amazon: US | CA | UK | Aus | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

Be sure to look for Book One in The Dreams Duet

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Want to be the first to see an excerpt of an upcoming book? Join my newsletter! You'll auto-magically receive a link to download Cruel Summer, a short ebook romance I wrote exclusively for my subscribers.

New Release! Only In His Sweetest Dreams

New! The new handyman's bedroom eyes promise to fix anything, but he can't fix this...

Only In His Sweetest Dreams

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Book Two in my Dreams Duet, Only In His Sweetest Dreams, releases today. It's the second of six new titles I'm throwing at you between January and June. Crazy start to the year, I know.

To help you decide whether these books are your cup of tea, here's what some reviewers have said so far:

Only In His Sweetest Dreams

"Dani Collins delivered a fantastic story with this one. This is a must read and I recommend it to all romance lovers. Can’t wait to read more of her stories." ~ Adel, Goodreads

"Such a great story!! I so want more! How about another book or two? I could really enjoy seeing Mercerdes & L.C. again ... I adored seeing them overcome their past to actually get a life they deserved!" ~Lynn B, Goodreads

"If you haven’t read Dani Collins, you are definitely missing out! I don’t know how it’s possible but this book is even better than the 1st one in this series. They are stand alone so don’t hesitate to read this one if you haven’t read Not in Her Wildest Dreams.” ~Michelle, Amazon

Not In Her Wildest Dreams

"This is a real page turner, there is intrigue, romance, action and drama…basically everything that transforms a book from good to amazing." ~Adel, Goodreads

"Not In Her Wildest Dreams was my first time reading anything written by Dani Collins and it will not be my last. Paige and Sterling's story is engaging, with drama, secrets and drama aplenty!" ~Kathryn, Goodreads

"I loved Ms Collins ability to introduce characters who are perfectly imperfect. I found myself cheering on the most unlikely suspects. Truly an authentic love story with family drama most anyone could find in their own family closet led me through a thoroughly enjoyable story. An unexpected twist leads to an interesting conclusion. My favorite work from Ms Collins yet. Can't wait to read the next related story and see where and how the family drama continues." ~TinFL, Amazon

~ * ~

If you missed these excerpts, you can read the first two chapters of Only In His Sweetest Dreams in these blog posts:

Chapter One.
Chapter Two

~ * ~

One more time with the quick links:

Amazon: US | CA | UK | Aus | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

Order your PRINT EDITION here

Be sure to look for Book One , Not In Her Wildest Dreams, about L.C.'s sister Paige and her first love, Sterling.

Amazon: US | CA | UK | Aus | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay

I've been buried in finishing a book and have another project that needs finishing touches, then I get to take a breath and figure out my next moves. Watch this space for some fun stuff like a Secret Valentine Goodreads Giveaway and some multi-author promotions as well as sneak peeks at my March book.

If you want to be sure you don't miss anything, please join my newsletter! You'll auto-magically receive a link to download Cruel Summer, a short ebook romance I wrote exclusively for my subscribers.

(I was going to say have a great weekend. I usually post on Saturdays... I've been in deadline mode so hard, it's a wonder I remembered I had a new release. Have a great week!)

#SampleSunday - Only In His Sweetest Dreams (2)

RELEASES Feb 1!

Book Two in this sweet, sexy, heartfelt duet.

Only In His Sweetest Dreams

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Back when I wrote these books, before I had published, I longed for the feeling of release day, not realizing how terrifying it is! It's especially intimidating when the book is an indie title. There's something very comforting in getting a story through the gatekeepers of editors at a publishing house. You know it's not complete dreck if someone pays you money for it.

These books were edited by a professional who assured me they were not awful. It's still mighty scary to say, Here. See what you think. But that's what I'm saying. I hope you enjoy them.

~ * ~

SampleSunday

If you missed it, you can read Chapter One here.

Chapter Two

Wandering the Flagstaff campus at nine o’clock the next morning, L.C. kicked himself for being too lazy to walk to the office for a map. Zack wasn’t answering his texts and he was about to write off this escapade when he overheard a pair of girls talking about ‘those guys who were arrested last night.’

“Any idea where I’d find them?” he interrupted the girls to ask.

Wearing startled doe-eyes, one pointed. “Dean’s office.”

Nodding his thanks, L.C. followed the sidewalk and practically bumped into Zack talking on his cell as he exited a building with a handful of young men. Most of them walked with hunched shoulders, tails lodged well between their legs, but Zack wore an intent expression and nodded as he spoke, gaze fixed on the distance in concentration.

Watching his son was like looking at his wedding photo—without the dorky swooped hair and tightly tailored suit, of course—but Zack’s lanky six-foot height and swarthy dark coloring were pure Fogarty.

Homesickness struck L.C. He had left because he couldn’t face what had been coming at him, but he had missed his son. A lot. If women had maternal instincts of softness and nurturing, he had paternal instincts of readiness to protect. All his muscles and sinews tightened, followed with a slap of failure that he was getting good at sloughing off. He shrugged now, pulling away from everything except what was right in front of him.

“Thank you. I really appreciate that,” Zack was saying. “Ten o’clock. I’ll be there.” Without looking up, he pocketed his phone and turned to unlock his bike.

“Hey, jailbird,” L.C. greeted, coming up beside him.

Zack looked up, his frown blanking into surprise, then a wide smile of recognition. “Dad!”

He straightened and almost moved for a hug, which would have been natural a few years ago, but evaporated every time Zack remembered he was still mad at him. Zack faltered and L.C. ignored the pang that hit him, offering to shake.

“What are you doing here?” Zack asked, cautious as they dropped their grip.

“Heard you got yourself into hot water last night.”

Zack waved it off and turned to his bike lock. “I was trying to stop the other guys.”

L.C. rubbed his stubbled jaw. Sounded about right. Just like his Auntie Paige, Zack only ever got into trouble when his do-gooder instincts went too far.

“So you don’t need anything.” It was a let down, but not a massive one. His worst nightmare was that his son would make the same mistakes he had. He was disgusted he’d let Britta’s ‘he shouldn’t have to ask’ comment get to him. He could have saved himself this sense of irrelevance.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Zack strapped on his helmet. “You should have texted. Sorry it’s a wasted trip.”

“I did text. And it’s not a waste if you join me for breakfast. Or do you have class?”

“No, I, uh....” Zack mounted his bike than slouched on the seat. “I mean, I do have class, but I actually have to move out of the dorm right now.”

“Oh.” L.C. absorbed that. “So everything’s fine except you’re kicked out.”

“Just from rez. The other guys got expelled, but I talked the Dean into letting me stay in school.”

Impressive. “Where will you go?”

“Not sure, but I’ll figure it out.” Zack leaned his elbows on the handlebars and skiffed his feet as he rolled forward at a speed L.C. could pace. His shoes scrape-scraped and his tires ticked. He nodded at a girl they passed.

L.C. waited for Zack to ask for help moving, or money for rent.

Nothing.

L.C. dug for his keys. “Let’s get a coffee. Then I’ll help you pack.”

Zack pulled out his phone to check the screen, then said, “I don’t really have time. I, um, the other thing about letting me stay is, I have to repair the damage the guys did. And serve a hundred community hours. I’m going over at ten to make sure the people at the old folks home are okay with that.”

L.C. choked on a snort.

Zack braked to a stop. “What?”

Not about to voice his doubts, because he knew his son was capable of a lot when it came to swinging a hammer, L.C. said, “Getting expelled sounds like the easier punishment. Why do you have to do all that and the other guys don’t?”

“Because they don’t care if they stay. I do.” Zack kicked off again before L.C. could question him further.

“You’re passing my truck,” L.C. called and Zack braked again to look across the parking lot. “We might as well load your stuff. We can find you a place after your meeting, if you’re allowed to stay. Am I reading that right? These old folks have to agree, otherwise you’re gone?”

“They’ll agree.” Zack rolled his bike across the pavement, then swung it into the bed of the pickup. “My dorm is across—”

L.C. shook his head. “You drive.”

Zack closed his hand over the keys. His thick dark brows came together like anvil heads. For the first time, he took in his father’s appearance, scowling as he noted rumpled denim and red eyes.

“Should you have driven here?” Zack asked with a new, more mature sort of challenge than L.C. had ever seen in his son.

“I’m not drunk. Or hungover. I’m tired. I drove all night from New Mexico.”

Zack made a noise that suggested reasonable doubt.

“Look, you said you have to move.” L.C. fought to keep his tone level, even though inside he was fuming and yeah, sick with guilt. His kid had every right to be suspicious, but he still hated it. “I’ll help you pack, then we’ll go to this meeting and I’ll look at the repairs with you. See what’s involved.” It was a fair offer. He’d been twisting wrenches all his life. He didn’t expect Zack to fall apart with relief, but a nod of thanks would be nice.

Jaw offset with indecision, Zack said, “You don’t need to. I’m handling this.”

The less than subtle Get Lost caused a twist of anguish in L.C.’s chest. He’d told himself Zack understood why he’d left Liebe Falls, but he had suspected, and now saw first hand, that Zack viewed his escape as running away from parenthood.

He was running from so much more than that.

But he loved his son and had never intended to run out on him. “I want to help, Zack.”

~ * ~

Edith Garvey couldn’t sleep for worrying last night’s pack of young criminals might return, seeking revenge. She said as much to Lindy Bellacerra, that busybody, when Lindy accosted her at Mercedes’s desk.

“That’s not likely, is it?” Lindy said, lunging to stretch. “They were all arrested.”

Honestly, this woman and her morning parade of flesh. Spandex didn’t belong on any female and Lindy was old enough to know it.

“Harrison said the police only wanted to put a scare into them,” Edith said, sorting the mail. “Which means they could be out by now. If Coconino is forced to hire private security, we’ll go bankrupt, not to mention the assaults they might perpetrate—” Edith glanced up, already worrying where she would go, and caught Lindy rolling her eyes, actually rolling her eyes at her.

Your imagination’s running away with you again, Edie, Thomas’s voice teased in her mind.

Setting aside the mail, Edith sipped the tea she’d purchased from the cantina, upset that no one, even the likes of Lindy Bellacerra, took her seriously. It wasn’t as if these fearful thoughts were unfounded. Those boys last night could be exactly like the ones who had swarmed and killed her husband.

Sorrow thickened in her throat. See, Thomas? Even my imagination is no match for what can really happen.

She set down her tea and tried to bring order to the files and sticky notes and clipboards. “That’s two prescription deliveries Mercedes has missed,” she told Lindy. “We’ll have another Frank Barclay situation on our hands if we aren’t careful.”

“Mercedes isn’t going to rob us blind!” Lindy stretched her arms above her head so her voluptuous figure thinned and her breasts mashed together. She held the pose as Harrison came through the sliding doors.

It was Edith’s turn to roll her eyes, but she refrained. She, at least, had been raised to show some manners. “Good morning, Harrison.”

“She thinks Mercedes is cooking the books like Frank,” Lindy told him.

Stirring the pot was so like Lindy. Edith searched out the scissors with more impatience than she wanted to show, but it was upsetting. Why was it the only person built to understand her had taken too long to come into her life and left far too early? And no children. She wasn’t one to cry about life not being fair, but when Harrison sighed like that, his disparagement directed right at her, the injustice was impossible to take. She straightened to offer Lindy a cold glare.

“Don’t let us keep you from walking before the heat.”

Lindy twitched her mouth and might have even flipped her hair as she turned, if she hadn’t had her gray locks secured in a small bun and wrapped in her green visor. “See you later, Harrison.”

“That is not what I said,” Edith clarified indignantly when Lindy was gone. “I meant that we may have to find a replacement for Mercedes, if she continues to leave us at loose ends. She should have been here last night.”

“It’s not something anyone could have predicted. You know that. And she’s on her way. I just spoke to her. She promised to be here by ten o’clock.”

“I’m pleased to hear it.” It showed the young woman had her head on straight after all. Finally things could settle back to normal.

Edith carefully cut the plastic away from the golf magazine that was subscribed for the lounge.

“We’ll ask her to start with quotes on installing higher fences. I can only imagine what an electric gate costs. Then there’s the aggravation of people forgetting the pass-code. This desk has been left empty too long, but I suppose it will stay neglected while Mercedes calls security comp—”

“We’re not turning this place into Stalag 13,” Harrison drawled.

“Why does everyone insist on interrupting me?” With sarcasm, as if interrupting wasn’t disrespectful enough.

“What you’re suggesting is a waste of time. We don’t have funds for it and that’s not why I asked her to come back. One of the punks wants to meet with us.”

Like a freight train coming to a violent stop, Edith’s heart jammed and thumped with hard, jarring beats. A horrified squeal seemed to drone in her ears.

“Absolutely not.” She meant to sound strong, but the constriction in her chest made the words breathy. Placing a hand below the notch in her collarbone, she wondered if this was what cardiac arrest felt like. Except her blood began moving again, pushing with headache-inducing force. She found her breath with equal suddenness. “We’re not meeting with any of those hooligans.”

“I already said we would.”

“You did not!” The scissors clattered to the floor, nearly hitting her foot. She couldn’t even bend to pick it up. She would fall over. “Without speaking to the board?”

“I’m speaking to you now. If you don’t want to see him, don’t come to the meeting.” He checked his watch. “I wonder if Pete’s out of his coma yet.”

“That’s unacceptable, Harrison,” she scolded as he walked away, but what could she do? He’d already invited the hoodlum. No! This was completely unacceptable.

~ * ~

“A place for family? Why does it say that, Auntie M?”

“Hmm?” Mercedes held open the gold-lettered door for the kids, her gaze going straight to her desk as they entered. The horseshoe shaped workspace had piled with paperwork in the three weeks she’d been gone. The pleasure of homecoming died under a sandbag of guilt.

Ayjia tugged on her hand, insistent.

“Pardon? Oh. Sorry, hon. I don’t know. It’s just what it says. Coconino Vista Adult Living Complex: A Place For Family.” At least there wasn’t a New Girl sitting behind the counter as Mercedes had half-expected. Deserved, maybe.

Rounding the desk, she slid her overstuffed beach bag off her shoulder onto her rolling chair, realizing they’d made worse time than she’d thought since lunch smells drifted from the cantina. Pea soup, if she wasn’t mistaken. Likely made from the ham leftover from Easter, something else she’d missed while babysitting her niece and nephew through Spring Break.

“But if it’s for families, how come only grown-ups are allowed to be here?” Ayjia lifted her face in consternation.

Mercedes really wished she hadn’t had words with Mrs. Garvey last Christmas. Ayjia was so worried.

“Kids are allowed to visit,” Mercedes assured her. “It’s fine that you’re here with me.” She hoped. She looked for one of the board members, wondering if Harrison had explained for her, dreading having to do it herself.

Lifting the nearly empty jar of jellybeans off her desk, she set it on the floor at Dayton’s feet. “Do you want to count those out for you and Ayjia?”

He nodded and knelt. She handed him a magazine to set the beans on.

“Why does he get to do it?” Ayjia asked.

“Because he’s older.” Mercedes spoke over her shoulder as she crossed to where she could see through the double doors into the cantina.

“I’m going to turn six in the summer,” Ayjia reminded.

“And Dayton will turn seven right after. No, don’t tip it, Dayton. Just reach in.”

No board members in the cantina. It held only its dozen or so regulars, sipping coffee and playing cards. One lifted a hand and Mercedes returned the wave with a smile.

In the lounge on the other side of the foyer, two elderly men watched golf on the big screen. Through the windows behind her desk, she saw an empty courtyard, not unusual for a Monday morning.

The board must be waiting for her in the meeting room. When Harrison had called again this morning, he’d said one of the young men had asked to meet with them and she needed to be here. Getting the kids off to school had turned into A New Plan. One road trip later, here she was, but no one else seemed to be. Glancing down the hall, she noted even the sunroom at the end appeared deserted.

Hmph. She’d promised to come straight from Porsha’s, but it looked like they had started without her. She tried not to see that as a bad sign.

Going back to where the kids were bickering over the remaining green jellybean, she popped it into her own mouth and crouched to say, “Remember when I said I need you both to be really quiet when we get here? Because I have an important meeting? Dayton, fingers out of your nose, please.”

Dayton stood and swiped his finger on the seat of his too short jeans. Either the kid grew by the minute or he had inherited the impossible Hertzog legs, like she had. Poor guy would suffer cold ankles the rest of his life. She gave him a quick, empathetic hug, then straightened before he could push her away.

“Can you do that?” she asked him. “Be quiet for a little bit?”

“I can,” Ayjia said.

Dayton said, “Can we go swimming?”

“After my meeting.” Setting the empty jar back on her desk, resisting the urge to finger through the mail, Mercedes collected the beach bag and led the kids down the hall. On one side, they passed a series of closed doors. On the other, a wall of windows showcased the gardens that bordered the courtyard.

“Why can’t we swim now?” Dayton asked, pressing hands and face to the window below the handrail, staring at the fenced pool.

“Because I have a meeting.” And she suspected attending it was a deal breaker as far as keeping her job went. She hurried them past the closed door of the meeting room and into the empty sunroom.

“What does that one say, Auntie M?” Ayjia pointed to a poster on the wall.

Mercedes glanced at the schedule she’d hung a month ago. Out of date and damn, she’d missed the flower arrangement classes. She had wanted to talk to the florist about bouquets for the Spring Swing Fling. Yet another beef she could take up with Porsha when she caught up to her.

“It’s a lot of writing,” Ayjia said. “Dayton can’t read it if it’s too much writing.”

“It’s not that interesting anyway. Just a list of what people can do, like card games and art classes and stuff.”

“What about the red one?”

“That’s an exit sign, sweetie, and don’t you dare go through that door. It will make a big noise if you do and I need you to stay here while I go into my meeting. Dayton, hon, do you have to go to the bathroom?”

“No.” He removed his flexing hand from his crotch.

“Okay.” Mercedes turned the two faux leather armchairs so they faced each other and tugged a side table so it stood between. When she slid the straps of the beach bag off her shoulder, her back wept in relief. “Can you two draw me a picture while I go in the next room for a few minutes?”

Dayton gave her The Look, his shaggy hair hanging over his lowered brows, his chin crinkling with mutiny.

“Please,” Mercedes said.

“I’m hungry.”

“We just had a cream cheese bagel.”

“Can I have a soda?”

“You can have milk when I’m finished with my meeting.”

“Is it a party?” A six-year-old shouldn’t be capable of that level of cynicism.

“No, it’s a meeting, hon. Someone broke into a building here and I have to figure out how to fix it.”

“The building?” Ayjia asked.

“Well, that, and meet one of the kids who broke in.”

“Kids broke in?” Ayjia paused in spilling the contents of the bag, eyes wide.

“College kids. Teenagers.” Young adults, she’d since learned, who should have known better. “Keep the crayons on the table, ‘kay, hon?” If one of the seniors came in and rolled an ankle... Mercedes didn’t even want to think about it. “Dayton, will you watch Ayjia for me for a few minutes? You don’t have to color if you don’t want to.”

He swayed away from the hand she combed through his hair. “Why can’t we come?”

Because I want to keep my job. “It’s a meeting for grown-ups. I won’t be long. Just sit here quietly, okay?”

With serious misgivings, Mercedes left the sunroom and entered the meeting room where small private receptions were occasionally arranged for birthdays or anniversaries, and where card tables were set up for the monthly board meeting.

“Mercedes! Finally.” Mrs. Garvey’s Finishing School accent silenced the room as she broke away from the group beside the coffee service at the counter. Her teabag string waved from the edge of her cup and tea sloshed onto the saucer as she marched her thin frame across the room.

“I’m sorry.” Mercedes caught a brief glimpse of a fresh-faced college kid and a face that was definitely that of a man.

Her heart gave a teensy ba-boomp even before she got a proper look at him. Mrs. Yamamoto opened her arms for a hug and Mercedes had to bend way down over the woman’s tiny frame then turn to press a light kiss on Pete Dolinski’s cheek. Her vision was completely blocked by Harrison Michaels’s broad shoulders when she accepted his brief, back-patting hug. He smelled like cotton and cigars and love. Yeah, she loved this ol’ coot.

“Good to have you back,” he said.

“Good to be back,” Mercedes said, and stepped away only to have her attention demanded by Mrs. Garvey.

“We weren’t sure you were going to make it.” No affection from Mrs. Garvey. She was like Dayton. Liked her personal space.

“I was waiting for my sister.” And waiting and waiting. Cocking her head, Mercedes tried to hear the children and doubted it was good news that she couldn’t.

“They’ve been here ten minutes already,” Mrs. Garvey said.

In the quiet, her remark carried. Mercedes sent a faint smile at ‘they.’

She had understood from Harrison that four young men had broken into the back units of the complex, but only one stood across the room. He looked surprisingly clean-cut for a B&E artist.

However, if the man beside him was a relative—and he must be since they shared the same dark coloring—then it explained everything. The older brother or uncle or whatever he was, looked like cheap beer, dirty talk, and sweaty sex.

He smiled at her as if he knew she possessed a learning disability where guys like him were concerned.

Clenching her stomach against flutters of intrigue, Mercedes dredged up a cool smile and approached with her hand extended. “I’m Mercedes Kimball, the Manager of Coconino.”

In his mid to late thirties, the man straightened from a slouch against the wall, giving the impression he was on the wrong side of pulling an all-nighter. His hair was in need of cutting or combing. Both really, and his jeans looked clean, but were faded and frayed. He hadn’t shaved in days and he had to know that old-fashioned senior types like the ones in this room expected a tidier appearance for important meetings like this.

Then again, a man like him didn’t usually give a damn.

“L.C. Fogarty.” He shook with an all-encompassing grip that could easily lead her to the nearest broom closet. He kept her hand while he said, “My son, Zack.”

“Son,” she said with mild surprise and eased her tingling hand free, smiling at Zack.

Zack didn’t meet her gaze, too busy giving his father a weird look.

“What?” L.C. asked.

Zack shook his head, held out his hand for Mercedes, and said, “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Kimball.”

Really the kid was too much a contrast to the punk father, his hair freshly cut, his slacks and collared shirt clean and ironed, his attitude respectful rather than knowing and wicked. He had shaved. Maybe the wrong Fogarty had been copped for the crime.

Mercedes drew back and briefly introduced the board before saying, “I’m not sure why you requested this meeting, Zack. I understood the school and police settled everything yesterday.”

“So did we,” Mrs. Garvey said behind her.

Mercedes sent a questioning glance at L.C.

“Don’t look at me. I just got here a couple hours ago.” His lips were well-defined in a masculine way, speaking of strength and purpose and a restless spirit. “But it seems he doesn’t want to be expelled.” He jerked his head at Zack.

“Right.” She dragged her gaze to Zack.

The young man cleared his throat. “I, um, spoke with the faculty and the judge, and, um, worked out a way for me to stay in school.” He rubbed a hand against his thigh. Sweating, not surprisingly, with the way the residents here resisted the cost of air conditioning. “I’ve, uh, written this apology.” He withdrew a folded envelope from his back pocket and offered it to Mercedes.

“Hardly sufficient,” Mrs. Garvey murmured in the background. “A letter doesn’t repair damage—”

“Oh, Ma’am, that wasn’t us,” Zack said.

“Did he just interrupt me?”

Mercedes turned to see Mrs. Garvey direct the question to Mrs. Yamamoto.

The board had taken their usual seats behind the table. Mrs. Garvey’s narrow cheeks flushed and she sat with her spine very straight, fully adopting what Mercedes privately thought of as her Stork On A Nest pose. Her gaze moved to the notebook in front of Mr. Dolinski. His pencil was poised but not moving, which seemed to displease her. Mrs. Yamamoto hunched over her knitting and Harrison leaned back, eyes closed, napping.

“Hooligan,” Mrs. Garvey muttered.

L.C. shifted, scraping his boot on the tiled floor.

Mrs. Garvey tensed and lifted her nose, but kept her gaze on the notebook, tapping the page. “Write down that due to the extensive damage to the duplex—”

“—that has been neglected for years,” Harrison murmured, rousing himself enough to open one eye at Mr. Dolinski. “Write down that I interrupted her, too.”

Mrs. Garvey made an impatient noise. “The windows were smashed, they left foul messages, and they intended to start a fire.”

“Don’t forget the sodomy they were planning, Edith.”

“Matches were found, Harrison.”

“Two of the guys smoke, Ma’am,” Zack said. He had his hands deep in the front pockets of his chinos. “No one was planning on starting a fire. I, uh, wasn’t planning on doing anything. Just some of the guys saw the hole in the fence and wanted to look around. I tried to stop them.”

Mrs. Garvey frowned at the notebook and said, “He’s wasting our time.”

“I don’t lie, Ma’am.”

Mercedes lowered the eloquent, seemingly sincere apology she’d been reading and walked it over to Harrison. He patted his chest and came up with his glasses.

Mrs. Garvey leaned forward to look past Mr. Dolinski to Harrison. “The police said they had all been reprimanded and the Dean expelled them for the semester.”

“That’s right, Ma’am, but the school is willing to let me finish out the year if I write a formal apology, serve community hours, and take care of the repairs to your building. I’d really like to do that, Ma’am. Finish the year.”

Mercedes felt something in her melt. She remembered her first community hours. The dollar-store earrings she had shoplifted had not been worth the six weeks of litter pick-up, making her forever averse to repeating that particular crime. Of course she’d wound up in a stolen car that other time, but she hadn’t stolen it. Those hours had been even more boring, working in an insurance office, taking calls and filing, but she’d come away with skills that had ultimately helped her on the job front. Serving hours worked for the right kids.

Still speaking to Harrison, Mrs. Garvey said, “In my day, we didn’t allow criminals off the hook by writing lines.”

“It was my idea, Ma’am,” Zack said. “Well, the repairs part. The Dean suggested a hundred community hours and that I serve them here.”

Yes. Mercedes mentally had him painting the main lounge, mowing the lawn, and reading the book club novel aloud before Mrs. Garvey could say, That’s absurd!

“That’s absurd! Let a jailbird into our homes?”

“Mrs. Garvey.” Mercedes forced a tight smile. “If it’s just the one incident, I’m sure he would appreciate the opportunity to turn himself around.”

Looking among the board members, Mrs. Garvey muttered, “I’d like to know if it is just the one incident.”

“Then why don’t you ask him?” L.C. scratched the stubble beneath his chin. “Rather than talking around him like he’s not here.”

Mrs. Garvey flared her nostrils. The rest of the board swung their gazes to Zack.

Please don’t help, Mercedes tried telegraphing to L.C., but only got a hello-there stare that slithered heat from behind her breastbone down to her pelvis. Her heart gave another skip of response and she jerked her gaze to Zack.

He shifted his weight, seeming uncomfortable.

“Is this the only time you’ve been in trouble with the police, son?” Harrison asked.

“Well, there was this one other time—”

“Why in hell would you bring that up?” L.C. asked.

“Language,” Mrs. Garvey murmured, touching the broach on her sweater.

“I just told them I don’t lie.” Zack waved his hand at the board.

“It didn’t count,” L.C. said.

“Now we’re playing horseshoes. How could an arrest not ‘count’?” Mrs. Garvey asked Mrs. Yamamoto.

Mrs. Yamamoto set her knitting in her lap and tilted her head questioningly at Zack.

“He was trying to take the rap for his old man,” L.C. explained.

“Oh, jeez!” Zack rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “You’re supposed to just look at the repairs with me, all right? I don’t need your help with this.”

“Apparently you don’t need help at all,” L.C. said. “Sounds to me like they’ve made up their minds and don’t want anything fixed.”

Zack’s sigh rang with impatience.

Mercedes’s feelings of affinity for the young man grew. She knew exactly how it felt to parent one’s parent. She was just about to go to bat for Zack, despite his convict father, when Zack spoke again.

“Look, that first incident was a big misunderstanding. Dad was accused of something he didn’t do and I— Well, I can give you the name and phone number of the officer involved. He’s my stepdad now.”

“He was only aspiring in that direction when he arrested me,” L.C. drawled. “Which had more than a little to do with why he cuffed me.”

Harrison snorted. Mr. Dolinski scratched his upper lip. Mrs. Yamamoto lifted her knitting so she could titter behind it.

Mrs. Garvey frowned. “I don’t follow.”

Mercedes knew that could be the kiss of death for Zack. He’d come so far, too.

She opened her mouth to plead his case but a huge noise, like a redwood coming through the wall, crashed in the next room. A high-pitched scream trailed it.

The kids!

~ * ~

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Be sure to look for Book One in The Dreams Duet, Not In Her Wildest Dreams, about L.C.'s sister Paige and her first love, Sterling.

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