Snowed In at Silver Resort is FINALLY here! There’s nothing like the feeling of the first day of new book’s release! Excitement. Jitters. Hope! And speaking of Hope–that’s what this book is ALL about!
She is a shattered dancer battling to walk again. He is a military bad boy fallen from grace. In USA Today Bestselling Author Stephanie Fowers’ heart-pounding romantic suspense, Hope’s weekend getaway at a snow-kissed resort transforms into a stormy whirlwind when Jag, the man responsible for her life-altering accident, unexpectedly comes to her rescue.
Hope can’t believe she’s snowed in with the very person who upended her life—Jag, a man whose stormy eyes turn her fiery resistance on its head. With no way to call for help and no way to run, she has never felt so helpless in the hands of someone who holds the power to open the heart she shut so firmly against the world.
Jag, a military dropout framed for a crime he didn’t commit, escapes prison to clear his name. Against the backdrop of a Christmas card resort, his concern for Hope—who unwittingly becomes his key witness—sparks into a love he has no right to feel. Hoping for redemption, praying for a miracle, he’ll sacrifice everything to keep her safe and away from his selfish arms.
As Hope’s memories of that fateful night resurface, she faces the daunting challenge of trusting Jag to thwart the shadowy forces determined to silence her. Even more so, Jag must confront his own demons and learn to hope in a future where blustering snowy days can actually mean Christmas kisses and snuggling next to a cozy fire.
Great news! “Gina and Ash” had a makeover (formerly “Out of the Mouths of Babes”) and to celebrate, I’ve put it on sale for 99Cents. It’s the last day! Pick it up HERE! Lol and for funzies–spot the differences between the real cover and the fake one!
BLURB:
Kids get away with saying almost anything like Aunt Gina should marry that “charmer” she met at her sister’s wedding. But Gina won’t have anything to do with that guy who played with her heart that night—he’s a heartbreaker—no matter how much her niece and nephews adore him now. Besides, the two come from different worlds. Gina’s a workaholic career woman; he’s the irresponsible flirt. Whenever they meet, there are fireworks and not the good kind. All that changes when her sister wins a cruise to the Caribbean and asks the two to babysit for 2 weeks. Sparks fly as they find a way to play house without burning the place down. Forget marriage—these two shouldn’t even date. And what do kids know anyway? Maybe everything. *Originally titled: Out of the Mouth of Babes
Do you enjoy awesome giveaways? You’re in luck! Team Clean on Facebook is offering a MONTH LONG AUTHOR GIVEAWAY EXTRAVAGANZA (and YOURS TRULY will be featured on the 23rd). Be sure to ENTER TO WIN the overall contest BELOW and while you’re at it, sign up to meet a slew of great authors and win fun daily prizes!
Guess what? It’s sharing time! Venice is a bad boy prince and Lavinia is his ex’s best friend… and unfortunately he’s feeling sparks when he DEFINITELY shouldn’t. She’s too sweet! Too fascinating. Retreat! Retreat… except he can’t because they just got locked on the top deck of his yacht with a fancy dinner made for him and someone else… and now Lavinia has to pay the piper for what she’s done! https://www.amazon.com/Girl-HER-Prince-Tragedies-Endings-ebook/dp/B0C5NCDT1V
Here’s a sneak peak:
Venice kept stealing glances at the angel sitting across from him at the table. The misty green foam of the sea fell from her shoulders in the form of her filmy swimsuit wrap, like a mermaid… an innocent that had no idea the power she held, and one who was forced to endure his presence.
Or was she more of a siren?
This was more her fault than his! What did she expect would happen after setting up a trap for him with his ex? Her halo was a bit tarnished. He knew she’d be trouble, and now he was freefalling from a plane without a parachute, and he couldn’t find it in himself to care.
That made this even worse!
She certainly refused to meet his eyes. She dug into the food with a certain defiance, though her fork steadfastly ignored the eggplant.
He’d gotten the feeling she was one of those politely finicky eaters. He wondered what else she was picky about? Bad boys? Men who’d broken her best friend’s heart? Princes?
A scarlet blush had stolen over her neck and cheek in her embarrassment at their predicament.
It was super cute, and nothing he was used to at all. Everything about her intrigued him.
The red straps of her swimsuit made a crisscross against her back and ran over strong shoulders to make up a sweetheart collar against her flawlessly pale skin. And yet, she was far more covered up than any of the women on this ship. Not that her suit had done much to hide her curves from him when she’d run into him earlier.
He swallowed at the memory. She’d been desperate to leave the scene of the crime.
It was all he could do to force the feel of her softness out of his mind—he was a prince, after all. He didn’t harbor secret desires for women who tried to entrap him… so why was he plotting more ways to get her in his arms again?
Then again, after aiding and abetting Deedee, Luvvy deserved what she got. No… Livvy. Was that short for something? Already, Venice knew Livvy had been adorably flustered at the mix-up with her name. He couldn’t wait to get that delightful confusion to take over her face again. “Aren’t you going to try the eggplant, Luvvy?” he asked her.
Her blue eyes snapped to his over the food where they should’ve been all along. That’s more like it.Face the man you’re doing your best to ruin.
“Luvvy again, huh?” Her voice was smooth and feminine, just like her long neck, her pink arms; basically every part of her. What was he, an animal? He was hyperaware of everything about her right now.
His fingers tightened over his plate. Strangely, he was desperate to get another reaction from her. “I think you should at least consider it.”
Her eyes flashed. “The eggplant?”
And her reaction gave away that she knew exactly what he was saying. “Luvvy,” he said. “You should consider that your new nickname.”
Laughing nervously, she swallowed another piece of lamb dripping in béchamel sauce. “Sorry, I can’t imagine anything worse.”
One thing was certain: she was fun to tease. “Why not?” he asked. “It can be our special thing.”
She gasped in dismay. “And what should I call you? Vinny?”
“Ha!” His own laughter surprised him with how genuine it felt. It had been far too long since he’d felt this lighthearted in someone else’s company, which made no sense since she was complicit in all of this. “Let’s do it!” he said. “I can get in touch with my Italian side. My father would love that.”
“I hate to be the one who breaks it to you,” she said, “but there’s already a city in Italy with your name on it. You don’t get more Italian than Venice.”
“Too bad that isn’t actually my real name,” he said.
She stilled in interest. “What is?”
“Don’t worry about it—it’s some long royal Tyndarian name you could never pronounce.”
“Rude! Who says I can’t pronounce—?”
“Aeneas Mnon Tyndarian,” he cut in with a laugh. Let her try to say that!
“Are you kidding me? Aeneas?” She pronounced it beautifully, and he stilled. No one had ever done that before. “You’re named after uh…” she stumbled to a stop before she could finish her sentence.
Her blushes were driving him crazy. “What?” he urged.
“Just that’s the hero in The Aeneid… a book my father gave me. He named me after…”
“Lavinia,” he finished for her. He’d never met anyone from America with that name. And now he knew the root of those delightful blushes. Those two characters had been the ones to get together in that mythological tale.
“He loved anything Greek,” she hurriedly explained, “and I see your family did too. Your parents must’ve been fans of the Odyssey themselves.”
“Ridiculously so,” he said. “Bris is short for Brisius.”
“I figured, and you’re Aeneas, the prince next in line to rule Troy after Paris got his brothers all killed off, and then you have an Achilles.” Her brow furrowed in confusion. “He’s not your… brother.”
“My father was best friends with his and so the Greek hero names caught on,” he hurriedly explained. “His sister is Iphigenia, but we call her Gena. Of course, nothing’s quite as regal as Lavinia.”
She laughed and set her fingers against her cheek. The charm he’d noticed earlier slid down her arm—a miniature silver dolphin that gleamed against her pale skin. He was mesmerized by everything about her. Her voice broke through his concentration: “Well, you should hear what my brothers’ names are.”
“I should,” he said, noticing how she tried to divert the attention from herself. None of the women he’d dated ever did such a thing. This girl was a mystery. “You are a princess then… meant for a prince.”
She drew up in mortification. “Just an American,” she said, “low blood and low born.”
“Never.” His father might think so, but never him. The kind of class she possessed came from the inside.
Her lashes swept down over her cheeks, and she smiled shyly, shaking her head. All that dark hair swept around her face in a cascade of tempting curls. “Well, you are a charmer,” she said. “I’ll give you that.”
His heart soared. She didn’t know half the tricks he had up his sleeve, but he was willing to try all of them on her at once. After what she’d done to his poor rushing heart, it only seemed fair. “And what other secrets can I discover from a girl who goes by Luvvy?” he asked.
She laughed in return. It sounded easier now that they were on a true first-name basis. “You don’t give up, do you?”
Venice never backed down from a challenge, and yet… maybe this time he should? The duties of his future calling to rule Tirreoy still loomed like an axe ready to fall against his neck. Any romance that bloomed on a vessel sailing for the Greek Islands was destined for failure, especially with Deedee aboard.
So, why did this maiden sacrifice his ex dragged aboard with her fascinate him so much? And why am I being so poetic?
He should really nip this in the bud. And yet? Why couldn’t Venice have his fun before he locked horns with his father again and eventually lost his freedom to be as carefree as he was now? This might be his last chance to truly explore love.
He dipped his toe into the silent Jacuzzi behind them, just wanting to forget it all. “What do you say to a swim?” he asked.
Her bubbly laughter was turning familiar to him. “In a Jacuzzi?” she asked.
The breathless sound in her voice gave him enough hope to return to her a mischievous nod. “Yes, and we can play hoops while we’re at it.”
“How?”
“Watch this.” He flipped off his sandals and stepped into the Jacuzzi, wading to his knees. The warmth soaked into his skin, a preview of how it would feel to really hold her. He already had an inkling of how fantastic that would feel every time he got lost in her eyes; it was the same relief that filled him when soaking his weary body in these soothing waters after a long day.
And he was getting ahead of himself.
First to teach her a lesson.
He knocked his elbow against the tiny basketball hoop he’d set up against the sparkling edge of his Jacuzzi. It shot up through the water. Its ringing springs echoed her surprise at seeing it. “What do you say to a game?” he asked.
She stilled and he knew she was torn. This sumptuous dinner and romantic evening alone were meant for him and Deedee—he’d bet his inheritance on it, though in Deedee’s company, nothing would’ve gone as far as it was going now.
He wasn’t sure what was keeping Deedee from showing up like a screeching harridan, but he’d uncover Lavinia’s role in this soon enough—he was looking forward to it. “You can’t say you’ve suddenly turned chicken, Luvvy? After all your brave deeds?”
“Chicken?” she sputtered. “Luvvy?” She held up her finger at that. “Brave?” Clearly, she wasn’t sure which offense to address first. “I’ll play on one condition, Aeneas… you call me Livvy!”
Once again the sound of his real name melting from those sweet lips felt like honey to his ears.
“We’ll see about that!” Venice snatched at the basketball floating on the water and shot it into the hoop. “If I get the first three shots, then I get to call you Luvvy and anything else I want.” Angel. Maiden sacrifice. His? He shot her a cocky grin. “And if you get in one… Livvy, it is.”
“Three!” she argued. “You’re not giving me a break!”
That forced a surprised chuckle from his lips. She did have brothers. “You’re on.”
She dumped her flimsy wrap unceremoniously against her chair and flew forward to meet his challenge head on, completely unaware of what she was doing to his pulse with those long legs of hers as she marched down the steps of the Jacuzzi, making his every dream come true as she joined him in the water. Her high cheekbones were flushed with delicious excitement at the competition ahead.
He couldn’t rip his eyes off of her. Gulping, he handed her the basketball. “Ladies first.”
She accepted it with one hand and passed it to the other, only to push the ball into the hoop behind her in one smooth movement.
Good thing she’d fought him on how to score this thing.
He burst into laughter, and held his hand out for the ball. Giggling with pure mischief, she took two steps back to retrieve the ball and handed it to him. He tossed it over her head to get a basket for himself.
She huffed—her previous triumph switching to dismay. Her hands tightened into fists against her hips. He tried not to get distracted. “I see I’m going to have to start playing dirty,” she muttered.
He could hardly wait to see what that meant. He handed her the ball. This time he was ready for her. He blocked her hand when she tried to make another basket and she folded over the ball to stop him from taking it. Short of treating her to a tickle torture, he wasn’t getting this ball from her. His arms went around her anyway, and he lifted her out of the water. “That’s holding!” she shouted.
It sure was!
She wriggled around to face him, her arms wrapping around his neck and sending his heart into his throat. But she wasn’t through with him. He listened to the ball go into the hoop behind him.
Clever little jade!
He lowered her back into the water while she shrieked out in triumph and danced around. It was all he could do not to surprise her with a victory kiss.
Livvy retrieved the ball and shoved it into his stomach, meeting his eyes with her sparkling ones. “Do your worst,” she said.
If he wasn’t careful, she’d turn his brain into mush with that kind of talk. He clasped the ball, and pulling it out of the water, he held the dripping object over her head.
She jumped, but there was no way she’d ever reach it.
Her hands went to his shoulders next, and using him as an anchor, she went for the ball again. “Wait, isn’t that holding?” he asked her.
She shouted out her defense, “You did it first, cheater!” She’d lost all sense of boundaries with him. Gone was the shy angel destined for the volcano and in her place was the fierce tigress, desperate to win at all costs. He knew he’d pull her baser nature out of her. She was using every handhold to get at that ball—his arm, his knee, his head.
And he still kept the ball out of her reach. “Cheater? What do you mean?” He dunked the ball into the hoop behind her back, sending her into cries of objection.
“Oh, just you wait!” she called out.
He was ready for her this time. He’d be calling her “Luvvy,” “lovely,” “love” before the night was through. He scooped the ball out of the water and dropped it into her hands. Immediately, she twisted and sprang at the hoop.
He was in the middle of pulling her back just as the ball flew into the air and landed against the side of the churning water. He’d managed to block her perfect aim. Without another sound, she dove for it.
He found her waist and tugged her back. Her fingers scraped over the water. They’d already established that anything went for this game—holding, hand checking, personal violations and more. “Ooh, you play dirty!” she cried out. Livvy twisted around to face him.
That was ironic coming from her. “You don’t like having a taste of your own medicine, huh?” he asked. His hands slid down her arms. His finger caught on that dainty charm on her wrist and something stirred in his heart at touching it. He tried one last time to fight against his baser instincts. “Weren’t you the one who arranged this little dinner with me and Deedee?”
She stopped wriggling as his words hit the intended target. “I’d never! I told you I had nothing to do with this.”
He stilled, his eyes meeting hers. Her dark hair was an unruly mane curling around her shoulders and arms and now around Venice—just how he liked it. Only now did he realize that he had her pinned up between him and the edge of the Jacuzzi. Her chest lifted with her furious breaths. “You just didn’t think you’d get caught in it too,” he whispered.
She planted her hands against his stomach and shoved him back. Her hand caught up the ball.
No, that was not happening!
She was focused on winning this competition, not on confession. He grappled with the slickness of her arm and his grip slipped through the water as she wriggled past him. She had the ball in two hands and threw it.
Too late, he found her shoulders and wrapped his arms across hers. A moment sooner and she wouldn’t have been able to make her move. His arms clamped over hers as he watched the ball’s progress.
The tiny plastic toy sailed through the air and drifted through the basket like it was coming home.
She fell back against Venice, laughing. “That’s that!” she crowed up at him. Her wet hair tickled his bare chest as she met his eyes. “No more Luvvy for you!”
He wasn’t so sure about that. His mind had cleared of hoops and scores; he was only arrested by the mirth in her happy eyes.
“I’m so so sorry,” she said. Nothing about her delightful snorts and belly laughs racking through her body lent credence to her words, and he was smitten. “First you get stuck in here with me,” she said, “and now you lose the biggest game of the year! This night is not going well for you.”
Unable to resist her a second longer, he picked her up and set her on the edge of the Jacuzzi. His arms went to either side of her as he drank in the beauty of her eyes.
She stilled, her laughter dying in a choke.
The galaxy made a magnificent backdrop in the black ocean behind her. The iconic windmills on Chios Island twisted lazily as they sailed past. The sight of the three ghostly stone structures was nothing to the wind blowing through the magnificence of her hair.
He touched a tendril, awestruck by even that, spellbound by this moment.
Her soft cheek was next, and it was as exquisite as he’d thought. Her breath hitched and her pink blush grew deeper under his fingers. Her lips parted ever so slightly.
That was it! He was taking that as permission to kiss her.
The door slammed against the wall when whoever was behind it pushed the thick metal open with the force of a cyclone.
Livvy scrambled back from him, so fast that Venice would think he’d only imagined she was there if it wasn’t for the water she’d left behind on the tiled deck. “Deedee!” she cried out. “You finally came for us. What took you so long?”
“Escape to the Greek islands, where a reluctant prince, a stranded beauty, and a dangerous secret weave a tale of love, mystery, and the unpredictable currents of fate.”
GOOD news, friends!! My latest suspense is finally HERE and I’m so excited!
When Prince Venice decides to throw a yacht party, he expects a bad press day but gets so much more than he anticipated. USA Today Bestselling Author Stephanie Fowers takes you on a romantic adventure to an island where Greek tragedies aren’t things of the past and love often leads down dangerous roads.
Now that the vile revolutionaries have been driven underground after years of waging a devastating civil war against his family, Venice reluctantly emerges from hiding. Despite his father’s insistence that he take up his princely duties as heir, Venice only wants his freedom.
His deranged ex-girlfriend has left him with a bad taste for love…. just another reason why he’s throwing a completely “unprincely” yacht party that will be sure to cause a press frenzy. What he didn’t plan on was the woman of his dreams stowing aboard along with his horrible ex. Now he’s trying everything to get this unforgettable siren out of his mind.
Lavinia’s best friend promised her the vacation of a lifetime and now she’s stuck on a party boat with no end in sight. Their “womanizing” host is supposed to be arrogant, rude, uncouth, so why does the warmth of the prince’s mesmerizing eyes make her heart flip like she’s got a grade school crush?
Before she can throw his easy flirtations back in his face, their vacation takes a shocking nose dive when an accident strands her on a deserted island with the one man she should not be snuggling next to for warmth.
Can this unlikely match outwit a band of assassins, uncover shocking mysteries, and open their hearts to one another? Or will they become a tragic tale to warn others away from the Island of Scheria?
Well, friends! After six months of researching, writing, polishing, agonizing over my latest novel, my treasure hunt romance is officially launched and I’m handing off this labor of love to you. Lol. I can only hope that you enjoy reading this HALF as much as I did writing it.
So if you’re the type who enjoys a romantic, challenging and adventurous journey packed with mystery and fun founding father history, then be sure get your copy of “In the Pursuit of Haven” HERE!https://www.amazon.com/Pursuit-Haven…/dp/B0BZQQ3JB7
And as always, THANK YOU for sharing in my creative adventures! I can’t do this without you 🙂
Are you in the mood for adventure, romance, laughter, and love? Well, I’m absolutely thrilled to announce my NEW project: “In the Pursuit of Haven!” Get your hands on the preorder HERE!
The sad, honest truth is the only thing I’ve never tried to run from is Jessie. And I should’ve! I should’ve listened to my furious Aunt Haven and ran and ran.
My path first collided with Jessie’s duringthose memorable summers I spent with my beloved aunt at Baker’s lighthouse, nestled along the enchanting Salem coast. For me, Salem isn’t just famous for its witch trials; it’s my second home, a place where I celebrated the most magical Fourth of July of my life–the night Jessie and I got stranded on Brown’s island during a cold, stormy night. Throw in warm arms that match the warmth of Jessie’s eyes and forget those family feuds over that stupid pirate treasure, I was hooked!
I’d never seen my usually calm aunt so angry. Buried treasure, mysterious maps, and pirates are a thing of the past, right? At least they should be. And besides that, what Jessie and I have defies everything and everyone.
Inseparable. That’s what Jessie and I are… or used to be. The years have a way of distorting the truth and digging up family skeletons that are best left alone. The very thing that brought us together is tearing us apart, and I’ve had enough. If Jessie wants to pick up that war that our families started all those years ago with that treasure, then I’m going to finish it… even find that buried loot myself and do what I do best, run!
And if Jessie tries to catch me? The storm that blew out the sky the first night we kissed is going to be nothing to what’s going to happen between us!
The book reads as a standalone, HOWEVER, if you haven’t had the chance to read the first book in the series: “In the Pursuit of Eden,” be sure to pick it up HERE!
So excited to share my books in the Harvest Ranch series! I’ve enjoyed playing in the world of Harvest Ranch and exploring the adventures with the Bridges and their neighboring Slade family as they navigate romance with country singers, Navy SEALs, bad boys, eccentric socialites, and preacher’s daughters! All my books can be read as standalones, but they are really fun to read in order too! Check them out!
DAhhhhhhhh just did my taxes and I NEED something to cheer up this recently starving artist that I’ve suddenly become. Lol. And there’s only way to do that: EXCERPT TIME 🙂 Ready for some West’s Redemption? Good: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BL914G17
EXCERPT:
Lauren had stolen another coat from West.
He was going to file a police report against her soon if she wasn’t careful.
Dang, he’d smelled good, and she wasn’t supposed to notice things like that when she was on the job. She’d done more than her share of unprofessional moves since getting to know West Slade.
Like this!
She tried on yet another dress. It was an elegant white satin one. She felt like a mermaid coming out of the dressing room. Lauren waited to hear Amber’s verdict. Her friend scrolled busily through her phone before glancing up. “Cute! That’s my favorite one so far.”
They all were!
Amber had a cousin of a friend of a friend who’d won VIP tickets to the fashion show from the radio. Lauren was thrilled, but she still had no idea how she’d get past West to talk to Trout anyway.
This whole operation was absolutely useless, but try to tell Amber that. “I can’t even afford this dress,” Lauren said.
“Think of it as an investment,” her friend said.
“Yeah, sure…” Her friend could justify every purchase. “I should just wear the red…” Lauren mused. After her fiasco with the zipper, Lauren wasn’t sure if she wanted to risk it, but this investigation was getting expensive.
“No, no, absolutely not!” Amber said. “West Slade can’t see you in the same dress.”
“Oh please, I don’t care what he thinks.” If anything, he’d take it as an opportunity to tease her about needing his jacket. Her face heated at the thought of exchanging more “friendly fire” with that guy.
“You might have to be nicer to him, ya know,” Amber said. “Stop blowing up.”
“He tried to bribe me.”
“I told you to say ‘yes’ to everything he said. If you’d just played along, you could’ve found out what they’re working so hard to hide. They already made a deal with FFearfA.”
They sure had! The rioters had mysteriously packed up their tents the day before and left the city. Trout had done something to appease their leader, but what?
Lauren sighed. She should’ve stuck with baiting West a little longer.
“You missed out, girl!” Amber said. “You’ve gotta play this smart.”
Lauren threw the bulk of her loose hair behind her shoulder. “There’s something about that guy that makes me crazy.”
“Right?” Amber picked up her phone again to check her messages. She’d been doing it since they’d gotten there. “You think he’s cute! You wore that jacket you stole from West Slade all day yesterday.”
Lauren immediately defended herself. “I was cold!” And the jacket happened to smell super nice—like West, actually, but that wouldn’t help her case against Amber. Lauren turned to the mirror to check out her dress from the back—the seams were flattering, unlike the last evening gown she’d tried on. She wondered if West would like it. The thought startled her. She pinned Amber with a stern look. “Can you for once help me act like a professional?”
“Professionals can think the enemy is cute.”
Lauren ignored that, checking the price tag on her dress. Her nose wrinkled. “It’s $3,500… I absolutely can not afford this.”
“Why not?” a male voice chimed in.
Her chin wrenched up and she saw West appearing from the stack of dresses. He looked way too good for a Saturday morning. He might’ve been in a ball cap and a relaxed gray T-shirt, but they were worth a fortune if she knew clothes. His dark jeans were stylishly wrinkled with an acid wash. The ends were folded into cuffs at the bottom. He was wearing those overpriced tan leather shoes without any socks.
It was like he’d walked out of the fashion show they were crashing. Lauren and Amber had come in sweats and messy bed hair.
“Are you following me?” Lauren squeaked.
“Do you want me to?” He sucked on the straw from the drink he’d brought into the shop. The shopkeeper didn’t make a peep of protest, especially since it looked like he might help sell the more expensive dress. West had found yet another jacket. The dark leather was much more casual than his suit ones. And still nothing hid how athletic he was. The guy was just built, and… she pulled herself together.
How had he found her here anyway?
And she was staring at him. Had he asked her if she wanted him to follow her? “No!”
Her emphatic—and very late—denial didn’t seem to convince anyone, especially Amber. An amused smile spread across her friend’s face. The only thing missing was her popcorn.
“Hmm, an investigative journalist who doesn’t like to be followed?” West asked. “Seems hypocritical.”
“I follow privacy laws,” Lauren said.
“Do you though?” It seemed a casual enough observation.
She ignored how close he’d gotten to the truth. Why was he still hounding her every step? She’d almost wondered if he’d stop after FFearfA had left town. He’d seemed pretty concerned about them… and then there were his probing questions about her informant. They didn’t even know who it was. She literally had nothing for him.
“Nice dress,” he said. “You know, if you wanted to go to the Marcel show, you should’ve just said something. I’d have gotten you tickets.”
Well, that was a maddening thought. They’d worked hard to score entry. And that wasn’t the point. “I can’t be bought,” Lauren retorted.
“This isn’t buying—this is just a man enjoying a woman’s company. I’d love for you to be my date.”
Amber hid an audible gasp… not very well.
The thumping of Lauren’s heart that had picked up when he’d first made an appearance rumbled into a monster truck engine against her chest at the suggestion. He was trying to throw her off the scent with his easy flirtation. “Really? You’d introduce me to all your friends there?” she asked. “The fashion designer himself?” She started naming off the richest cronies in Nashville that online sites like Flatter had spied West with. “Marian Dobbs, Felicity Shaw, Kyle Costella… Roy Trout?”
He turned silent.
West would keep Lauren far from anyone who mattered. “I’m not stupid,” Lauren said. She ducked back into the dressing room, trying to wiggle out of the expensive dress. “I know you’re not going to help me,” she called through the slats in the door, “but I don’t need you, turns out. I’ve got eyes in my head. I can see for myself who’s really working Trout’s strings.”
West took a second to respond. “Who?”
Well… she didn’t know yet.
“Everybody works his strings,” he said after her silence. “He’s a politician, last time I checked. You’re getting the white dress, right?”
“No!” He wasn’t distracting her from this. “FFearfA backed off. Who’s running them?”
“Some rich cronies somewhere.”
Lauren hated that she agreed with him. She threw on her shirt. “What kind of deal did you offer them to make them go away?”
“They probably got bored of living in sweat-infested tent cities. I mean, c’mon, they’re larpers playing at being revolutionaries. Even they need to take a shower every once in a while.”
“You did something!”
“Wow, Sherlock, you’ve really stumbled onto something here,” he said. “Too bad all the major networks stole your lead. That’s all they could talk about yesterday. You’re two steps behind them. Better luck next time.”
His sarcasm deserved a scathing comeback. She got busy throwing on the rest of her street clothes… as unimpressive as they were.
Before she could say anything, she heard West strike up a conversation with Amber outside of her door. “Nice to meet you,” he said. “You’re Lauren’s friend?”
“Yes, roommate… and editor,” Amber returned. “I’m a fan of your first date.”
He broke into a laugh.
“No, no.” Lauren broke out of the dressing room, still wrestling her shoes on. “You’re not making friends.” She grabbed a fifty-dollar dress from the clearance rack that she’d brutally rejected earlier. It was all black and not at all flattering, but it would do. “I found my dress,” she said. “Let’s go.” Throwing the simple sheath gown over her shoulder, she raced to the front desk.
Amber would have to catch up.
West laughed behind her. “I thought you were supposed to be the fashion queen? You’ll never blend into Marcel’s party that way.”
“Definitely, do the white one,” Amber said.
The little traitor! Did no one know what money was anymore?
“And I like the one that doesn’t break the bank,” Lauren said, setting the dress on the counter. She pulled out her card, really hoping that she didn’t reach her limit in front of West. “I’ll take this dress, thank you.”
The shopkeeper’s grimace showed that he agreed with West and Amber’s pick.
“You’re making a mistake,” West said. “You can’t wear cotton to Marcel’s. It just isn’t done.”
“By all means,” Lauren retorted. “Pick up the white dress for your date to the show. I’m sure she’ll look stunning.”
“That’s not a bad idea.” To her surprise, West rescued the dress from the hook in the dressing room. He cut in front of her in line.
“Excuse me!” Lauren complained.
A fleeting dimple punched into West’s cheek. “Ring the ugly black one up too,” he told the shopkeeper.
“No!” Lauren complained. There were too many strings attached to taking his charity. “You can’t buy my dress!”
He threw his cash down on the counter. Who carried that kind of money around? “Hey,” he said. “I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure you don’t wear it.”
Oh! That wasn’t what she meant! Was he actually taking the dress from her too? That stinker! Lauren’s fingers tightened into fists while Amber giggled beside her.
Beeps followed the sheath dress and the white overpriced one, moments before they landed into a fancy golden box. The shopkeeper announced a final cost that made her wince.
“Keep the change,” West told the shopkeeper. He’d left a hefty tip. He gathered up the sheath dress, bunching it into a ball on his way out the door.
The bells jingled in his wake.
He left the white gown behind.
Amber’s eyes widened and she spun around to look at Lauren. “Did he just buy you that dress?”
Lauren’s stomach tightened. “I am not… taking that!”
“Oh, yes you are!” Amber snatched up the gold box.
No, no! They were not allies with that man! And she wasn’t accepting anything that looked like a bribe. Lauren marched outside to catch up to West. If he wanted her attention, he just got it.
“I can see him through the window,” Amber reported eagerly through her mic. “He’s sitting in that exclusive section that nobody without connections can get. Dang! You’ve got yourself a cute date for the night. Perks of the job, right?”
I’m so not ready for this.
There were downsides to being an outspoken outcast her entire life, and that was Lauren’s complete helplessness in the social scene. Strange that the boldest girl on the internet was a wimp when it came to love.
She pushed her thick brown hair around her shoulders to try to hide as much of that dress as possible, regretting the flashy scarlet for perhaps the hundredth time since she’d gotten here.
“Nope, nope!” Amber tsked. “Don’t cover up the pendant.”
Oh yeah! That was Amber’s camera. Reluctantly, Lauren swept her long hair back, uncovering the pendant and showing off more of her dress than she wanted.
Just own it already!
Stuffing the makeup back into her purse, she snatched up the soft red leather and headed out the bathroom door. “I’m going in.”
“Okay, going dark. In one, two, three…” Amber’s voice cut off when she muted her side as promised. They both agreed that shouting orders into Lauren’s ear would be too distracting, but it now felt eerily still. Soft harp music drifted through the restaurant.
Lauren caught sight of West at his table across the way. He seemed to be sending off a text before slipping his phone into his pocket. He glanced up at her, almost stopping her breath with that chiseled jawline. Dah! He was heart-wrenchingly gorgeous.
This is for truth. Truth. Remember that! I’m doing the world a favor. My name will go down in history as one of the great supporters of freedom—John Hancock and Samuel Payne and…
She swept forward, the ends of her red dress sliding across the floor. She did her best to not jostle anything as she walked… like a certain zipper. It almost felt like walking with a book on her head.
The guy had no right to look so good. But those eyes of his were the culprit behind her runaway pulse. They seemed to stare into her soul and tear out her heart all at once.
Lauren had no idea how to fight back. She was like an awkward clown sent in to tame the lions.
And that kind of defeatist thinking wouldn’t get her anywhere! She was supposed to be the strong woman who toppled corrupt empires on a daily basis.
I can do this. Just pretend that this is a business interview. I’m good at those. Or-or it’s like talking to children. It’s not like I don’t have enough nieces and nephews running around underfoot… or students. I can talk to chil…
She groaned at the turn of her thoughts.
Actually, don’t talk to West Slade like he’s a child… ugh! He’s a professional businessman… one of the best PR guys out there. He’s represented guys like the notorious country star, River MacKenzie, for goodness sake!
And she was going out with him, and on false pretenses. What was she thinking? And why was West Slade even bothering to look at her?
He rubs elbows with Iced Bro and uses and throws away socialites like Nicole Kate and Chocolate Sugar and—and even Trout’s daughter! Of course, Eva Trout had practically left him at the altar with how fast she’d run from that playboy… and he had no problems replacing her. And who cares? That makes him a worm. I don’t care. He’s just a guy.
West stood as she approached, like a lazy tiger in his slow, languid way, like he was both bored with the evening, but hoping it was looking up with some good company. She noticed that he was taller than her, even in her heels, but only barely. What he lacked in height, he made up in confidence… or was that arrogance?
His lips twisted into a smirk that was already becoming familiar to her. “Great entrance. I like a woman who shuts my brain off the instant she walks into a room.”
Her face went hot… hotter than it was before. Was this how his part of the world talked? Or was he just super bold? Amber had handled all messages back and forth with him. A strategic mistake. Lauren didn’t know what to expect or how to keep up.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she blurted. “I hope you weren’t too… uh, lonely.”
Did she really just say that?
He didn’t miss a beat. “You were worth the wait.” He leaned over her to brush a kiss against her cheek.
Wait. Already?
His pleasant musky scent invaded her nostrils the instant his smooth lips met her already heated skin. It was bad enough he saw her blushes, now he’d feel them. His touch was casual, yet promised more.
Yeah, he was used to a scene that moved at a faster pace than she was comfortable with. He’d be sorely disappointed when she didn’t follow along… well, mildly disappointed… no use thinking this eager reporter meant more to him than she really did.
Steeling herself, Lauren took the seat that he’d pulled out for her, feeling breathless, perhaps more so because she was trying not to set off that zipper on her tight dress. She allowed him to tuck her in before he sat on the other side of her, proceeding to watch her under heavy lids. He hadn’t stopped smirking.
He was the worst! How could he not know what he was doing to her pulse with that look?
Her source had told them that West was the key to finding everything about Trout, since the two worked so closely together. What secrets were hiding in that intense gaze? One thing she could read—he was fascinated with her. Riveted!
A shiver ran through her at that burning smolder.
Oh, Amber! What had her friend recklessly told him when she’d masqueraded as “Lauren”?
A server came to the table and set their menus in front of them. The main courses were priced in the hundreds. West glanced over the menu at her, his forehead wrinkling as he asked her about any dietary restrictions.
“None… I mean, I should…”
“No, you shouldn’t.” His brilliant smile took a break from that smirk and almost melted her into the ground. Lauren tried to pull herself together as he turned to the server and ordered the most expensive drinks and appetizers in the restaurant.
Her fingers froze over her napkin as she realized how much going undercover would cost him, and she couldn’t say a thing without giving herself away. She scanned the menu to find the cheapest thing on there and saw a fifty-two-dollar lobster soup.
So not good.
She turned back to him and noticed him checking her out.
Lauren tried not to jump. Was he really? He could also be mesmerized by the sequins of her dress or put off by that scar between her brow or…? Well… Amber had really gone overboard with her makeover. Lauren let him know that she’d caught him in the act by meeting his gaze evenly.
He didn’t even look bashful, just owned his scandalous behavior with sparkling eyes.
Jerk! Those eyes were his most dangerous weapon! No wonder he was such a heartbreaker. Women must stand in line for their turn to get played and thrown away.
Lauren desperately tried to think of how to even the playing ground. “It’s a great dress,” she said flatly. “I’ll let you borrow…” it…? No, no, that didn’t sound right coming from a date… in fact, her intended set-down would sound like an invitation that she didn’t mean. “I’ll let you borrow…” She was stuck. “… my fashion sense sometime.”
This night was not going well.
Now she was insulting his fine Arman-whatever suit, but it was better than giving him any false expectations about what kind of girl she was.
In an instant, the smirk that had taken possession of his lips curled up in appreciation.
Buddy, you won’t stay impressed for long.
She could just imagine Amber snorting out her amusement in her car while she listened in. Her friend wouldn’t keep her promise to stay silent for long if she kept messing up. Lauren was supposed to go into this date acting like an airhead—everyone blabbed to the cheerful, easily impressed woman—but she was accidentally sounding like her true self.
“I’m looking forward to borrowing your fashion sense,” West said, saving them both from her blunders with just a touch of a drawl—she found herself oddly intrigued. He must’ve picked it up from that backwoods hometown he came from. “I’ve been missing a feminine touch in my life. I have to say I can’t wait for yours.”
That man had a big dose of flirtation with that drawl!
She laughed, despite her best efforts. The server was back, plying them with drinks and setting the luxurious appetizer in front of them. Yeah, this was how the other half lived—curbing no appetite and giving in to every temptation. Never in a million years would the preacher’s daughter have said “yes” to a date like this. West’s quips only confirmed that.
“Now, wait a second…” she said. As long as he was throwing out sexist comments; she had a few of her own. “If I’m going to lend you my ‘feminine touch,’ I’ve got to see how well you change a tire first.”
“I’m on it,” he retorted. “Where’s your car?”
Did he mean her getaway car?
“Not so fast,” she retorted. Banter was something she was used to with her brothers, and he made it far too easy. “You don’t have to slash my tires just to prove your manliness, I can see your muscles from here, tough guy.”
His brow arched. “Are you checking me out, Ms. Lauren Garcia?”
She swallowed at his playful, confident teasing. How could she possibly keep up with this? It was taking everything in her to channel her inner socialite for this interrogation. She let out a laugh to signal her surrender. “I guess you caught me. You’re all man.” She needed to avoid further arguments that revealed too much of her true nature, but to her chagrin, more of her personality leaked out against her will: “Too much of a man,” she muttered.
He tossed his head back with a laugh.
Did he actually like the real Lauren? He was leaning closer to her now. How had that happened? She needed a clear head for this.
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