Dani Collins's Blog, page 35

Bites Of Books - His Mistress With Two Secrets

When I completed and submitted my thirtieth book, I decided to celebrate by offering a taste from each one. His Mistress With Two Secrets is Book Two in my Sauveterre Siblings quartet. She's pregnant with the billionaire's babies. Twins! Enjoy!

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

1) Pursued By The Desert Prince, Mar 2017

2) His Mistress With Two Secrets, Apr 2017

3) Bound By The Millionaire's Ring, Oct 2017

4) Prince's Son Of Scandal, Jan 2018

~ * ~

“I’m surprised you stayed below as long as you did when you had this to retreat to,” she said as Henri padded out to join her. He was compelled. Drawn. It was strange and not something he would typically indulge. The strength of his attraction made him a little uncomfortable.

Below them, people began filing out to the outdoor lounge while the music followed them.

Ramon was the one who liked crowds. Henri preferred a quieter atmosphere, but he said smoothly, “Good thing we did or I wouldn’t have met you.”

Her snort was delicate, if disparaging. Most blondes with blue eyes played up the suggestion of vulnerable innocence in their coloring. Not Cinnia. Her vintage hairstyle framed her face in a waifish way, but her brows had a sharp, intelligent angle. Her lashes stayed low and her gaze watchful, not cynical, but not goggling or overly impressed by any of this.

He liked that sign of inner confidence and strength. It was compelling, sparking his curiosity. “You feel differently?”

“I feel this is a well-oiled machine you two are operating.” She flicked her glance to the plate of canapés that appeared like magic on the glass table next to them.

“I would call that distrustful,” he said, waiting until the server had gone to swing his gaze back to hers. “If I didn’t think you two were running a similar routine. I’ll call it hypocritical instead.”

Her blue gaze flashed to his, but inside the suite, Vera was laughing at something Ramon had said. The two were meshing like cogs rolling against one another to turn out a foregone conclusion. Cinnia’s mouth tightened.

“Unable to deny it?” he taunted gently.

“You approached us,” she reminded with enough pique to amuse him.

“I was invited.”

“I didn’t mean to stare.” Her gaze returned to the view, chin coming up.

It had been more than a stare. She had smiled at him.

He watched with fascination as the fringe across her breasts quivered under an indignant breath. He would bet her cheeks were pink if the light was high enough to tell.

“I doubt I’m the first to be curious about the pair of you. You make a fetching couple.” Her smile was pure aspartame.

Her eyes, however, were a spun-sugar-blue. That was unmistakable as a huge white light swirled down from a helicopter, rousing the crowd below into cheering.

Her beauty gave him a sudden kick in the chest. It wasn’t a trick of makeup because she wore very little. The requisite eyeliner made her eyes stand out, but she’d only darkened her lashes a little. They weren’t lengthened with false ones like so many women wore these days. A shimmery blue streaked across her lids, but otherwise her features were clean and her skin fine and creamy.

“Did you really know it was me who looked back at you, or is that an assumption? Because it usually takes people months, even years to tell us apart.” It was easy once a person realized Henri was left-handed and Ramon right, or that Henri tended to speak French as his default while Ramon preferred Spanish, but few noticed those details.

“You are remarkably alike, but…” She glanced into the suite, to where Ramon was holding open the designer bag, listening politely to Vera wax in delight over the contents. They usually let their mother pick over the contents of those bags, then handed the rest to their PAs, but Henri was just as happy to let these women take them home.

He took advantage of Cinnia’s distraction to glance at his phone. The bullet points backed up what he’d already assumed. Her mother was well-born, but the family was broke. Cinnia worked for a wealth management firm and was listed on their website as an intern, filing and fetching coffee, he assumed. The only risk Cinnia Whitley posed was financial and he was quite sure he could afford her.

He tucked his phone away, irritated to note she was still eyeing his brother, brows pulled together in consternation.

“But?” he prompted, having to stand close to be heard over the music below.

“I don’t know. I don’t read auras or anything like that, but… Never mind.” She flashed him another look, this one self-conscious.

Sexually aware?

“That’s interesting.” His annoyance evaporated, replaced by intensified attraction. He leaned his elbow on the rail so he was even closer to her, edging into her space, liking the way she tried to quell a little shiver. She smelled like roses and tropics and something earthy that further turned him on.

“Wh-what is?” She was trying to look blasé, but he knew the signs of physical magnetism. There was a pulse beating fast in her throat, but it wasn’t fear. She wasn’t moving away. She was skimming her gaze across his shoulders and down his chest.

Chemistry was such a wonderful thing. He didn’t move, allowing the primal signals to bounce between them, stimulating him and heightening his senses. Sex was the cheapest and best high in the world, as far as he was concerned.

“You react to me, but not to him.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Didn’t you? My mistake.”

“You are mistaken,” she assured him hotly. “Whatever you’re thinking about me—us—and why we came up here, forget it.”

She wasn’t used to being so attracted to the men she exploited, he surmised. Poor thing. This must be very disconcerting for her. With that reserved personality, he bet she usually did quite well at stringing a man along. Was she afraid she wouldn’t be able to hold out with him until she had squeezed all she could from him?

“I’m thinking you’re here to watch the fireworks. What did you think I was thinking?”

She spun back to the view, setting her chin.

He smiled. “Listen.” He very lightly stroked the back of his bent finger down her bare arm, entranced when goose pimples chased the same path.

She shot him a look that was startled and uncertain, quickly rubbing the bumps away.

“I don’t have to work this hard to get a woman to sleep with me. This is how I live.” He waved his champagne glass at the opulence around them. “Enjoy it without feeling obligated.”

“You won’t expect anything after?” she scoffed.

“By ‘anything,’ do you mean that?” He thumbed to where Vera was on tiptoes inside the suite, painting herself against Ramon, lips firmly locked over his.

Cinnia made a pained noise and looked out across the river again. As strategies went, her friend was overplaying her hand.

“I shall remain hopeful,” Henri drawled.

“Yes, you will remain that way,” Cinnia assured him.

He hid a silent laugh behind the glass he lifted to his lips, deciding he wanted her quite badly and was willing to pay whatever it cost. He respected people who knew what they were worth.

But he only said, “Don’t make promises unless you can keep them, chéri.”

~ * ~

Find His Mistress With Two Secrets at your favourite retailer:

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

Have you read Book One of The Sauveterre Siblings?

Amazon: US | CA | UK | Aus | 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.

The Secret Billionaires - Prequel

Free Online Read

The Secret Billionaire's Mistress is my short, sexy, prequel to The Secret Billionaires trilogy I wrote with Rachael Thomas and Jennifer Hayward. Look for the books May, June, and July. Read the prequel here - it's free!.

The Secret Billionaires are high-octane tycoons who need a fresh challenge. Sebastien, the hero of the prequel, bets them they can't go two weeks without their fortunes and the power that comes with their names. They go for it--and wind up risking more than they bargained for.

Depending when you read this, the link may have changed. (This is what comes of having something publish online while Mercury is in retrograde.) I'll try to update it when I have the new one, but please drop me a line through my contact page if you have trouble finding it.

Behind The Scenes

I feel like I'm busy, but not getting anything finished, just started. Here's one of the things that I have been working on:

I've realized my office is overrun by author copies. I will be setting up some giveaways on Facebook, my website, and of course, in my newsletter. Scroll to the bottom of this blog post for details on how to join or click here.

Another task I have set for myself is to begin using Dragon Dictate. This software goes by many names, but the basic idea is to talk instead of type. It's a very different process! My first few attempts made me feel as though I was learning to write all over again.

The next biggest challenge has been that my husband is home all day. He's been off work since having carpal tunnel surgery. This means I'm feeling very self-conscious speaking aloud. What if he hears me? (He so doesn't care.)

Nevertheless, as I was struggling to find my words, I thought I heard him on the stairs. I freaked out, turned off the microphone, and rushed over to close my door. Yes, I am that neurotic.

He's probably on his earbuds anyway. He likes to listen to music as he putters around the house.

And no, in case you're wondering. I'm not suffering carpal tunnel issues myself. I don't have any reason to worry except statistics. But I would rather hone the dictation skill now, than try to master it on-the-fly because I suddenly found myself in pain from an injury.

I'm not sure 'writing' this blog post by dictating it has saved me much time. (I am revising the old fashioned way.) But I'm given to understand practice may not make perfect, but it will make me faster, more accurate, and more comfortable with the process. So I shall persevere!

Have you ever tried dictation software? I have a writer friend who uses it and winds up leaving voicemails where she says the punctuation aloud. Period.

Works In Process

Something I'm often asked if I ever work on two projects at once. Ha! I have been genuinely frustrated at times that I couldn't literally--physically--type two books at one time. My biggest hope from this dictation software is that I'll be able to dictate one book while typing another. What do you mean, I sound like a workaholic?

I'm kidding, of course. The real answer, however, is that yes, it is very common for me to have more than one book in progress. I typically complete a book, submit it, and start a new project while the first is with my editor. When her revision letter arrives, I stop writing the second book and switch back to the first. Right now, I have outdone myself. I'm waiting for a revision letter and have started three different projects. (It's a long story.)

To some extent, it's a time management thing. I like to know that I have a solid proposal ready for when a current book is accepted. I am not the type of author who enjoys writing right up to deadline. I like to know what my assignment is, then set myself crazy, unrealistic goals and stress out to imaginary deadlines. This is totally true. Ask my husband.

This routine is also a hold over from before I was published. At that time I would submit a manuscript, then start something new so that if I received a rejection (when I received a rejection) I would already be invested in a new project and wouldn't quit out of discouragement.

And my husband has since told me that a huge sign of being a workaholic is starting projects before finishing others. So. Ahem.

Goodreads Giveaway

If you haven't entered this, you have a few more days before it closes:

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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

I'll have more news in May as I start #SampleSundays for Xenakis's Convenient Bride. If you're waiting for more Sauveterres, they're scheduled thusly:

Book Three (Ramon) - Bound By The Millionaire's Ring, October 2017

Book Four (Trella) - Prince's Son Of Scandal, January 2018

If you follow my newsletter, you'll be notified when they go on sale.

I'm going to end it here. Thank you for being part of my dictation experiment! If you would like to receive updates on my progress and other projects, please join my newsletter. When you confirm, you'll receive a link to download Cruel Summer for free as a welcome gift.

Have a great weekend,

#SampleSunday - His Mistress With Two Secrets

Thank you!

His Mistress With Two Secrets caught the little golden tag on Amazon this week. I'm so thrilled. That's your doing, Dear Reader. Thank you!

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

I'm rushing this post a bit. We finally have a sunny day and a dozen things to get done. I'm stressing, of course, because I had to delete a thousand words yesterday and didn't get my word count in. Now I'll lose more today. Argh.

Ah well, at least this book is complete and available to you. Read on for Chapter One.

SampleSunday

Did you miss last week? Read the prologue here.

Chapter One flashes back to their first meeting.

~ * ~

CHAPTER ONE

Two years ago…

Cinnia was not a social climber, but her roommate, Vera, was. Cheerfully and without apology. Thus, when Vera wangled opening night tickets from the owner of the hottest new night club in London, she demanded Cinnia accompany her.

“I told him about your title,” Vera said. “That’s how I got him to say yes to our coming.”

“The title that belongs to my great-uncle a million times removed whom I’ve never met and who wouldn’t know me from Eve?”

“I might have exaggerated how close you are. But I told him about your granny’s vintage tiara and since his theme is ‘flappers and gangsters,’ and he wants window dressing, he said we could come as staff. No swag,” Vera said with a dismayed wrinkle of her nose. “Just mingle with the guests. Be first on the dance floor, that sort of thing.”

Cinnia was reluctant. Her weekends were her only time away from her job at a wealth management firm to put the pieces in place for striking out on her own. She had set September as her goal and had a mile-long list of to-dos to make it happen.

“You work too hard,” Vera groaned. “Look at it as a chance to rub elbows with potential clients. This will be wall-to-wall, top-tier, A-list celebs.”

“That’s not how it works.”

Cinnia’s mother saw a different opportunity when Cinnia spoke to her over the tablet. “Tell me I can’t wear the tiara so I can tell Vera there’s no point.”

“Nonsense. We’ll get my dress out of storage, too. It’s time they both saw some use. You, too, for that matter.” Her mother had purposely held a Roaring Twenties party on her tenth anniversary so she could wear her grandmother’s modest, heirloom tiara. She had had a beaded dress made special for the occasion.

“You wouldn’t get the tiara from the safety-deposit box when we were broke and I wanted to sell it, but you’ll let me wear it to a nightclub?” Cinnia asked, askance.

“This is why I kept it, for you girls to wear on special occasions. Go. Have fun. There’s bound to be some nice men there.”

“Rich husbands, you mean? They don’t sell them at the bar, Mum.”

“Of course not. It will be an open bar for something like this, won’t it?” her mother returned tartly.

There was a reason she and her sisters called their mum “Mrs. Bennet.” She was forever trying to find their golden ticket of a husband. There was also a reason she was so determined to do so. The Whitleys had descended from aristocracy. The blue blood cells had been significantly diluted by bright, peasant red, but Milly Whitley was determined that her daughters would make good matches and the Whitleys would return to the lofty position they’d all enjoyed before Mr. Whitley had died and his fragile financial house of cards had toppled around them.

Until then, they would dress the part and hang onto a house that was a money pit and they would attend the sorts of occasions that told the world they hadn’t gone anywhere.

“I daresay you’ll find a better class of suitor than your usual struggling students and apron clingers,” her mother added snobbishly.

All they needed was one man with deep pockets.

Or, as Cinnia had said countless times, they could all get proper jobs like normal people.

Her two middle sisters decried that as blasphemy.

Priscilla, her first younger sister, was a model. Genuinely pretty, but not in high demand. Two years out of school and she had barely worked at all. She just needed a better head shot or a new outfit or a change of hairstyle and her career would take off, she kept assuring them. Completing a course in hairstyling or something useful like that would only hold her back.

Nell, their stunning little party girl, didn’t need a job. Boys already bought her things and she was the one who would land them the Big Fish when the time came. If Cinnia could somehow keep her in school long enough to complete her A levels without getting pregnant, she’d be thrilled.

Thankfully Dorry had a brain and ten times anyone’s ambition to use it. Their youngest sister had been babysitting from the moment she was old enough to wipe a nose and currently had a job in a fish-and-chip truck, much to their mother’s repulsion. Dorry squirreled her money before anyone saw it and kept her head down, usually bent over a book. If something happened to Cinnia, she had every confidence her baby sister would keep the rest of them fed and sheltered.

She was trying not to put that on poor Dorry. After trying to help her mother win a fight against owing back taxes and other debts associated with her father’s estate, Cinnia had taken an interest in wills and estate planning. As careers went, it paid well enough, was stable and flexible and she found it intellectually challenging.

Her mother said she might as well be an undertaker.

Vera said, “No matter what, do not tell any men we chat up what you do for a living. Not unless we’re trying to get away from them.”

Cinnia didn’t have Vera’s interest in meeting men. Her mother’s lack of a career to fall back on had been their downfall. All Milly was qualified to do was take in university students as boarders because she had a big house, which was how she paid the bills, much to her everlasting embarrassment. She spun it as a lark when people asked about it. She liked to be surrounded by young people, she said, playing eccentric.

Cinnia was determined never to have her back against the wall like that. She was already self-supporting and, even though she knew running her own agency came with risk, she had hit the ceiling where she was. The next step was to become her own boss.

Thus, she was thinking about how to build her client list as she stood with Vera, chatting to an unassuming musician and a nerdy social media magnate. The men were ridiculously wealthy and equally shy, which was why bubbly women like Vera had been called in, Cinnia supposed, letting her gaze stray to take in an evening beyond any she would experience again in this lifetime.

The nightclub was a reclaimed industrial building, tricked out with steel and glass and modern art. Top-shelf liquor was served in cut-crystal glasses by uniformed bartenders. The main room was open to the upper floor, making the place feel airy despite the crush of people in the low-slung chairs and standing in groups around the full dance floor.

Tonight, the tables had been covered with velvet tablecloths and the place was littered with feather boas and faux furs. The typical nightclub black light had been replaced with a sultry red. It threw sexy shadows into every corner and gave faces a warm glow. The DJ was mashing old jazz and modern hits with delightful results while a bouncer guarded stairs that rose to a walk-around gallery on the upper level. When they’d arrived, they’d been given a peek into the ultraposh, private entertainment rooms reserved for the most exclusive guests.

Judging by the movie stars and the other celebrities not gaining access, those rooms would be used by a very rich and exalted personality indeed.

Cinnia wasn’t impressed with money and fame, but she would love to take on any of these pocketbooks as clients. Sadly, people with this much money to throw around were not interested in a boutique agency still smelling of builder’s dust. She had known from the outset that nothing would come of this evening beyond a few lost hours and a cute entry in the logbook of appearances made by her great-granny’s tiara. C’est la vie.

Then she saw him.

Them, really. The Sauveterre twins. The male pair. The same gorgeous man in duplicate arrived at the top of the short flight of entrance stairs, where they overlooked the sunken area of the main lounge.

Her pulse stumbled.

She was startled to see them in person. And curious, of course. She’d been eleven when their sister had been kidnapped, old enough to follow the story as intently as the rest of the world. It had had a profound impact on her. To this day it made her heart feel stretched and tense just thinking about it.

The family name had turned up in a million news stories and gossip magazines and online hits since then. That’s how she knew, despite the distance across the dimly lit room, that they were as handsome as they seemed from afar.

They had identical dark hair cut close under matching black fedoras tilted slyly to the left. While every other man had turned up in a baggy, striped suit with a red tie and carried a violin case, these two wore crisp black shirts with the cuffs rolled back, high-waisted, tailored black pants held up with white suspenders and smart white ties.

The sharp look accentuated their muscled shoulders and neat hips, while the narrow cut of the pants drew her eye to their matching black-and-white wingtips. They looked like gangsters of old, but the really dangerous ones. The ones so powerful and commanding, they didn’t have to swagger. They killed with a blink.

They wore exactly the same expression of bored tolerance as they pushed their hands in their pockets and scanned the room.

It was funny to see them move in unison, which held her attention until one stopped. He turned his head from the direction of the stairs, barely moving, but it was as if he sensed her attention and met her gaze all the way from across the club.

Cinnia’s heart took a funny bounce. She told herself it was the embarrassment of being caught gawking coupled with the shock of recognizing a celebrity. Catching a glimpse of the Sauveterre twins, even in a place filled with faux royals and rock stars, was a big deal. She knew they were regular people underneath the reputation, not something to get fluttery over, but she was rather giddy holding this man’s gaze.

There’s my rich husband, Mum. The thought made her smile at herself.

His head tilted just a little and he gave a slight nod. It was a very understated acknowledgement. Hello.

“Who do you see?” Vera asked, and followed Cinnia’s gaze, whispering under her breath, “Oh, my gawd.”

The men moved down the stairs onto the dance floor, leaving Cinnia swallowing and trying to recover from something that had been nothing. Why did her blood feel as though it was stinging her veins?

“We have to meet them,” Vera insisted.

“Shh,” Cinnia protested, forcing her gaze back to the crooner. She and Vera were supposed to be circulating and making small talk. “Who needs another Gin Rickey?” she asked the men.

She absolutely refused to look around and see if he looked at her again. Why would he? Still, she remained attuned to him, feeling prickly and hypersensitive, like she was in grade school and her first crush had entered the room. She knew exactly where he was as they both moved around the room for the next half hour.

Vera leaned into her. “They’re by the bar. Let’s get into their line of sight.”

“Vera.”

“We’ll just see if we can say hi. Besides, there will be a stampede for drinks when it’s time to toast. We should freshen ours now, so we can take them outside for the fireworks.”

She and Vera quickly realized they’d be swimming upstream trying to get nearer the twins or the bar. They moved to safer ground near the bottom of the stairs and stood with attentive expressions as the club owner quieted the room and thanked everyone for coming.

Or rather Cinnia gave their host her polite attention while Vera visually cruised for fresh prospects.

Vera would flirt with anyone. She was fun-loving, pretty and had a knockout figure that reeled men in from across a pub or wherever she dragged Cinnia for a night out. They’d met at uni and Vera was not only loyal, funny and caring, but also the absolute best at keeping Cinnia from becoming the stick-in-the-mud that Vera always called her.

Cinnia wasn’t as curvy as Vera, but she drew her share of male attention. She might not try to get by on her looks the way her mother thought she could, but she knew her wavy blond hair and patrician features gave her certain advantages. They were also a perfect foil for Vera’s darker looks, which Vera used to her advantage.

Cinnia didn’t date so much as play Vera’s wing woman. She had come out tonight knowing they would very likely wind up departing the club with whomever Vera had set her sights on. But, while Vera often went home with men she barely knew, Cinnia fully expected to find her way back to their flat alone.

As the speeches finished up and the fireworks were promised to start soon, there was a minor lull in noise.

“It’d be nice if we could find some men to buy us a drink.”

It was classic Vera, spoken mostly in jest because she knew it got under Cinnia’s skin. She knew Cinnia believed women should be self-reliant and not look to men for anything.

Cinnia bit back her knee-jerk lecture on feminism, refusing to let her friend get a rise out of her.

Behind them, a male voice said, “Ladies? Are you going up?”

*

Henri recognized the blonde as they made their way toward the stairs. She had a serene profile and a graceful figure draped in a vintage style dress that he imagined his sisters would coo over. They were the fashion aficionados, but he knew quality when he saw it.

Everything about this woman was understated elegance. In a sea of heavy makeup and over-the-top flapper gear, she wore a short black number that shimmered with fringe. Her hair was pressed into the pinched waves of old and a simple line of diamonds banded it. One side of her delicate tiara was bedecked with a leafy filigree and a single feather.

She looked smart and feminine without even trying.

She had smiled at him earlier, which was nothing new. People stared and acted like they knew him all the time. Heads in the crowd were turning to do it now. He usually ignored it, but he had looked back at her for a full thirty seconds because, why not? She was beautiful. It hadn’t been a chore.

Neither was this side of her. The dress didn’t need to hug her figure to show off her pert ass and slender thighs. It was rather erotic in the way it only suggested at the curves it disguised.

“Company?” he suggested.

Possessing exactly as healthy a libido as Henri, Ramon followed his gaze, saw the stacked brunette beside her, and commented, “Good eye.”

They easily operated as one unit without preplanning. Henri paused beside the women in time to hear them wish for a man to buy them drinks.

Ramon stepped past them to open the chain on the bottom of the stairs himself, not bothering to identify himself to the bouncer. Everyone knew them on sight.

“Ladies? Are you going up?” Ramon’s gaze flicked back to Henri. He’d heard their lament and Henri very subtly signaled he didn’t care.

They were targets of gold diggers all the time. They had both learned to take care of themselves. It didn’t mean a good time couldn’t be had by all.

The brunette blushed and smiled, standing taller, shoulders going back. She was dazzled and very receptive. “Yes. We are.” She nodded confidently despite the fact they all knew who moved freely up these upstairs and who did not. She nudged the blonde.

The blonde pursed her mouth with dismay. Embarrassed at being overheard as a mercenary? No need. Henri found that to be the easiest and most convenient of traits to manage in a woman.

The music started up again, increasing his desire to leave the noise and crowd behind.

The blonde looked warily between him and his brother, giving Henri the sense she was trying to work out which one of them had met her gaze earlier.

He and Ramon didn’t fight over women. There was no point since neither of them wanted long-term relationships. Women seemed to view them as interchangeable anyway. But Henri found himself annoyed by the idea she might decide to go with Ramon.

What had been a generic restlessness responding to the gaze of a beautiful female ticked up into a desire to have this one in particular.

“Watch the fireworks in our suite,” Ramon said with easy command, waving an invitation. “Save me from staring at my own face.”

“Why would you stare at your brother when you’ll be watching the fireworks?” the brunette asked with a cheeky bat of her lashes. “Maybe if you didn’t dress alike you wouldn’t feel like you were talking into a mirror?”

“We don’t do it intentionally.” Ramon offered his arm to escort her up the stairs. “It happens even when we’re half the world away from each other. We’ve stopped fighting it.”

“Really!”

The pair was quickly lost in the shadows of the gallery.

The blonde gazed after her friend, biting her lip, then relaxed her mouth and licked her lips as she glanced at Henri. It almost seemed a nervous response, but the action flooded color into a mouth that now looked dewy and soft as rose petals, shiny and kissable. A very enticing move.

His gaze lingered on the sight, as his mind slid naturally into the pleasant fantasy of crushing her mouth with his.

“Shall we?”

She fell into step beside him.

This was not his first time picking up women with his brother. He and Ramon had long ago concluded that if they were saddled with being the Sauveterre twins they were damned well going to take advantage of the one outstanding benefit. Startlingly good looks, times two, along with buckets of money and celebrity status meant that the sweetest companions were in endless supply.

“Was that true?” the blonde asked, leaning in to be heard. “That you dress alike at other times, not just tonight?”

“Yes.” Henri hated talking about himself and loathed even more talking about his family, but this was one of those innocuous tidbits that strangers loved to hear. The mystery of being a twin was infinitely fascinating to those who weren’t. He accepted it and had stopped fighting it, as well.

At least tonight it gave him an excuse to hold her arm as he leaned down to speak in her ear, liking the silken brush of her hair against his nose as he inhaled a scent that was cool English roses and warm woman.

“In fact, when one of us changes out of what the other is wearing, we inevitably spill something and have to go back to the first outfit.”

“You’re joking.”

He shrugged off her skepticism. His sisters were connected on an emotional level. He and his brother were more outwardly aligned. They had very different personalities, were competitive as hell with each other, but often spoke in unison or followed a similar thought process, inevitably arriving at the same end result. As Henri had been calling his brother to suggest they host this year’s planning sessions in London instead of their usual Paris or Madrid, Ramon had been accepting the invite to this club opening.

“I’m, um, Cinnia. Whitley.” She offered her hand as they arrived on the upper floor.

“Henri.” Her skin felt as soft as it looked and was warmer than the pale tone suggested. She had a firm grip for a woman. He didn’t want to let her go, but she pulled her hand free to glance behind him at Guy, who had followed them, then frowned at Oscar ahead of them, already stepping through the door to the suite where Ramon waited with her friend.

“Do you have bodyguards?”

“It’s just a precaution.” They followed into the suite.

While Oscar inspected the room, Guy brought out his phone and sent a brief text—a request for a background check on both women no doubt. Helping Guy along, Henri introduced himself to the brunette, learning her name was Vera Phipps.

Aside from relying on men’s wallets rather than their own, Henri judged both women to be harmless. Vera sent a “Jackpot” look to Cinnia when a butler arrived to take their order, then she followed Oscar’s path through the room, trailing fingers on the low-slung sofa and chairs as she circled, glancing to the flat screen hung on the wall, and stepped onto the balcony for a quick sniff of the air off the Thames.

She came back just as quickly to fetch one of the swag bags from the coffee table. “Oh! A gold one! Everyone below got silver. And yours is bigger.”

“I hear that a lot,” Ramon said with a smirk, making Vera laugh throatily.

“I bet you do. May I look?” She batted her lashes suggestively.
Cinnia did not flirt so blatantly. She offered a demure “Thank you,” as the butler poured their champagne and moved outside to glance at the colored lights swirling on the water. In the middle of the river, the technicians on the float set off a test flare.

It was a warm evening without a breeze. Her gaze lifted to the sparkle of lights across the water and up to the stars.

“I’m surprised you stayed below as long as you did when you had this to retreat to,” she said as Henri padded out to join her. He was compelled. Drawn. It was strange and not something he would typically indulge. The strength of his attraction made him a little uncomfortable.

Below them, people began filing out to the outdoor lounge while the music followed them.

Ramon was the one who liked crowds. Henri preferred a quieter atmosphere, but he said smoothly, “Good thing we did or I wouldn’t have met you.”

Her snort was delicate, if disparaging. Most blondes with blue eyes played up the suggestion of vulnerable innocence in their coloring. Not Cinnia. Her vintage hairstyle framed her face in a waifish way, but her brows had a sharp, intelligent angle. Her lashes stayed low and her gaze watchful, not cynical, but not goggling or overly impressed by any of this.

He liked that sign of inner confidence and strength. It was compelling, sparking his curiosity. “You feel differently?”

“I feel this is a well-oiled machine you two are operating.” She flicked her glance to the plate of canapés that appeared like magic on the glass table next to them.

“I would call that distrustful,” he said, waiting until the server had gone to swing his gaze back to hers. “If I didn’t think you two were running a similar routine. I’ll call it hypocritical instead.”

Her blue gaze flashed to his, but inside the suite, Vera was laughing at something Ramon had said. The two were meshing like cogs rolling against one another to turn out a foregone conclusion. Cinnia’s mouth tightened.

“Unable to deny it?” he taunted gently.

“You approached us,” she reminded with enough pique to amuse him.

“I was invited.”

“I didn’t mean to stare.” Her gaze returned to the view, chin coming up.

It had been more than a stare. She had smiled at him.

He watched with fascination as the fringe across her breasts quivered under an indignant breath. He would bet her cheeks were pink if the light was high enough to tell.

“I doubt I’m the first to be curious about the pair of you. You make a fetching couple.” Her smile was pure aspartame.

Her eyes, however, were a spun-sugar-blue. That was unmistakable as a huge white light swirled down from a helicopter, rousing the crowd below into cheering.

Her beauty gave him a sudden kick in the chest. It wasn’t a trick of makeup because she wore very little. The requisite eyeliner made her eyes stand out, but she’d only darkened her lashes a little. They weren’t lengthened with false ones like so many women wore these days. A shimmery blue streaked across her lids, but otherwise her features were clean and her skin fine and creamy.

“Did you really know it was me who looked back at you, or is that an assumption? Because it usually takes people months, even years to tell us apart.” It was easy once a person realized Henri was left-handed and Ramon right, or that Henri tended to speak French as his default while Ramon preferred Spanish, but few noticed those details.

“You are remarkably alike, but…” She glanced into the suite, to where Ramon was holding open the designer bag, listening politely to Vera wax in delight over the contents. They usually let their mother pick over the contents of those bags, then handed the rest to their PAs, but Henri was just as happy to let these women take them home.

He took advantage of Cinnia’s distraction to glance at his phone. The bullet points backed up what he’d already assumed. Her mother was well-born, but the family was broke. Cinnia worked for a wealth management firm and was listed on their website as an intern, filing and fetching coffee, he assumed. The only risk Cinnia Whitley posed was financial and he was quite sure he could afford her.

He tucked his phone away, irritated to note she was still eyeing his brother, brows pulled together in consternation.

“But?” he prompted, having to stand close to be heard over the music below.

“I don’t know. I don’t read auras or anything like that, but… Never mind.” She flashed him another look, this one self-conscious.

Sexually aware?

“That’s interesting.” His annoyance evaporated, replaced by intensified attraction. He leaned his elbow on the rail so he was even closer to her, edging into her space, liking the way she tried to quell a little shiver. She smelled like roses and tropics and something earthy that further turned him on.

“Wh-what is?” She was trying to look blasé, but he knew the signs of physical magnetism. There was a pulse beating fast in her throat, but it wasn’t fear. She wasn’t moving away. She was skimming her gaze across his shoulders and down his chest.

Chemistry was such a wonderful thing. He didn’t move, allowing the primal signals to bounce between them, stimulating him and heightening his senses. Sex was the cheapest and best high in the world, as far as he was concerned.

“You react to me, but not to him.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Didn’t you? My mistake.”

“You are mistaken,” she assured him hotly. “Whatever you’re thinking about me—us—and why we came up here, forget it.”

She wasn’t used to being so attracted to the men she exploited, he surmised. Poor thing. This must be very disconcerting for her. With that reserved personality, he bet she usually did quite well at stringing a man along. Was she afraid she wouldn’t be able to hold out with him until she had squeezed all she could from him?

“I’m thinking you’re here to watch the fireworks. What did you think I was thinking?”

She spun back to the view, setting her chin.

He smiled. “Listen.” He very lightly stroked the back of his bent finger down her bare arm, entranced when goose pimples chased the same path.

She shot him a look that was startled and uncertain, quickly rubbing the bumps away.

“I don’t have to work this hard to get a woman to sleep with me. This is how I live.” He waved his champagne glass at the opulence around them. “Enjoy it without feeling obligated.”

“You won’t expect anything after?” she scoffed.

“By ‘anything,’ do you mean that?” He thumbed to where Vera was on tiptoes inside the suite, painting herself against Ramon, lips firmly locked over his.

Cinnia made a pained noise and looked out across the river again. As strategies went, her friend was overplaying her hand.

“I shall remain hopeful,” Henri drawled.

“Yes, you will remain that way,” Cinnia assured him.

He hid a silent laugh behind the glass he lifted to his lips, deciding he wanted her quite badly and was willing to pay whatever it cost. He respected people who knew what they were worth.

But he only said, “Don’t make promises unless you can keep them, chéri.”

~ * ~

Want to know what happens next? His Mistress With Two Secrets is available now. Your quick links are here:

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

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.

InstaFreebie Vacation Reads

This is a group of twenty hot contemporary vacation reads (not erotic.) As with other offers, you'll have to sign up for each author's newsletter, but you can unsubscribe any time. Enjoy!

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.)

Have a great weekend!

Dani

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.

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

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:

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

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:

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#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.

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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:

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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.