by Cat Schield
One spectacular night...
with an explosive aftermath...
Desire as volatile as theirs has consequences
that could last a lifetime...
When a single rapturous night with Sammi Guzman leaves the intoxicating model pregnant, photographer Oliver Lowell vows to accept his responsibilities. But anger over his father’s betrayals haunts him. It once pushed him into dangerous rebellion and now leaves Oliver feeling ill equipped for parenthood. Passion has never been his and Sammi’s problem, but will this black sheep tame his demons for good?
Seven Sins
One man’s betrayal can destroy generations.
Fifteen years ago, a hedge-fund hotshot vanished
with billions, leaving the high-powered families
of Falling Brook changed forever.
Now seven heirs, shaped by his betrayal,
must reckon with the sins of the past.
Passion may be their only path to redemption.
Experience all Seven Sins!
* * *
Ruthless Pride by Naima Simone
This CEO’s pride led him to give up his dreams
for his family. Now he’s drawn to the woman
who threatens everything...
Forbidden Lust by Karen Booth
He’s always resisted his lust for his best friend’s sister—until they’re stranded together in paradise...
Insatiable Hunger by Yahrah St. John
His unbridled appetite for his closest friend is unleashed when he believes she’s fallen for the wrong man...
Hidden Ambition by Jules Bennett
Ambition has taken him far, but revenge could
cost him his one chance at love...
Reckless Envy by Joss Wood
When this shark in the boardroom meets the one
woman he can’t have, envy takes over...
Untamed Passion by Cat Schield
Will this black sheep’s self-destructive wrath flame
out when he’s expecting an heir of his own?
Slow Burn by Janice Maynard
If he’s really the idle playboy his family claims, will his inaction threaten a reunion with the woman who got away?
“I like being in control,” he replied.
“Control,” Sammi murmured, her bitter tone deepening Oliver’s fascination. “What’s that like?”
Control was choice. He’d learned in therapy that everyone responded differently to pressure. Josh had chosen responsibility. Jacob decided to retreat. Oliver’s refuge had been oblivion. Until rehab had taught him a different way to cope.
“I like being in charge.”
Her eyes narrowed in speculation. “I imagine you do.”
Oliver considered the scene between her and the man who’d left. “You should try it.”
“Maybe I should.” She swiveled on the stool, facing him. “How do I start?”
He wanted to banish the shadows filling her eyes. Their presence hinted at a painful history.
They both took a second to absorb her question, and Oliver found himself in sync with someone for the first time in more years than he could count. A second later he noticed that his earlier anger was gone.
Conversing with this woman was the distraction he’d been looking for.
“Maybe I can help.”
* * *
Untamed Passion by Cat Schield is part of the Dynasties: Seven Sins series.
Cat Schield
Untamed Passion
For my Seven Sins Sisters: Naima Simone, Karen Booth, Yahrah St. John, Jules Bennett, Joss Wood and Janice Maynard
Dear Reader,
I’m sure by now you realize that stories featuring the Seven Sins have never enjoyed a greater path from heartbreak to redemption. I feel so blessed to be on this journey with these six authors. The challenges each couple has to overcome on their way to their happily-ever-after make for unforgettable tales.
I was thrilled to be presented with the sin of wrath for my characters. I immediately knew that my hero’s anger was an outward reflection of his sense of deep isolation from his childhood. Is it any wonder that when Sammi turns up pregnant after their single night together, Oliver jumps at the chance to create a family of his own?
I loved this couple’s emotional journey, and I hope you do, too.
Happy reading,
Cat Schield
Cat Schield is an award-winning author of contemporary romances for Harlequin Desire. She likes her heroines spunky and her heroes swoonworthy. While her jet-setting characters live all over the globe, Cat makes her home in Minnesota with her daughter, two opinionated Burmese cats and a goofy Doberman. When she’s not writing or walking dogs, she’s searching for the perfect cocktail or traveling to visit friends and family. Contact her at www.catschield.com.
Books by Cat Schield
Harlequin Desire
Las Vegas Nights
The Black Sheep’s Secret Child
Little Secret, Red Hot Scandal
The Heir Affair
Sweet Tea and Scandal
Upstairs Downstairs Baby
Substitute Seduction
Revenge with Benefits
Seductive Secrets
Dynasties: Seven Sins
Untamed Passion
Visit her Author Profile page at Harlequin.com, or catschield.com, for more titles!
You can also find Cat Schield on Facebook, along with other Harlequin Desire authors, at Facebook.com/harlequindesireauthors!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Excerpt from Temptation at Christmas by Maureen Child
Excerpt from Scandalous Secrets by Synithia Williams
One
Six weeks ago
Oliver Lowell glared at the single word scrawled across the bottom of the birthday card. Someday. No signature. No “sorry I missed your birthday.” Just one word that roused every demon Oliver had wrestled into submission these last eight years of sobriety.
Someday? What the hell kind of creepy message was that? A threat? A promise?
Just like everything else that reminded him of his father, receiving the gift of an expensive rod and reel had turned Oliver upside down. Too many times Vernon Lowell had promised to schedule a fishing trip only to have one thing after another take precedence. Was it any wonder that by the time Oliver entered high school the relationship between father and youngest son had soured to the point where they couldn’t be in the same room together without snarling at each other?
Oliver tossed aside the card, grabbed his camera and headed out into the warmth of a Manhattan September afternoon. The acrid scent of exhaust and grumble of rushing traffic struck Oliver’s senses as he paused on the sidewalk, gripped by a rare bout of indecision. Lost in a turbulent swirl of anger and resentment, he had no idea which way to turn.
Eight years earlier, he would’ve sought out his favorite dealer and scored something to dull his rage. Oblivion had been his best friend back then, his favorite way to cope with the loathing and self-disgust that no amount of professional succes
s could eliminate. He’d been in his early twenties, either high or crashing, indifferent to how his behavior affected everyone around him. And then came the day when he’d decided to stop his destructive behavior. Sobriety hadn’t made things any easier. In fact, his life became a whole lot worse as he had to face the consequences of his actions. Consequences he continued to address every day as he navigated negative opinions and constant temptation.
Which was why when his feet finally began to move, he strode toward the Soho Grand Hotel. He intended to remind himself that he was firmly in control of his addiction and not the other way around.
Bypassing the high ceilings and optimistic atmosphere of the Grand Bar and Lounge, Oliver made for the Club Room, with its large photos of vintage films and artfully grouped sofas and armchairs. At six in the evening, the place was nearly full, and Oliver snagged the only available table near the entrance with a direct line of sight to the bar.
A waiter approached and addressed him by name. Although Oliver never drank alcohol, today he ordered a neat whiskey instead of his usual club soda with lime. Impatience burned in his chest at the waiter’s surprise. He didn’t often test his control this way.
The rage that had cooled while he’d walked through the late summer evening flared once again. The emotion was a destructive, living thing in his gut that stole his energy and ability to focus. It was the source of every bad decision he’d ever made.
While he awaited the drink, Oliver sent his gaze touring the bar in a desperate search for a much-needed distraction from the all-too-familiar need for the numbness that drugs and alcohol provided. Through most of his teenage years and into his early twenties, oblivion had been his only escape from the anger that fed on his soul. Once he’d gotten clean, he’d still grappled with the rage that simmered close to the surface. During his early days of sobriety, while he’d been learning how to cope with his darker emotions, he’d still needed an escape. With controlled substances no longer an option, he’d found a new kind of addiction. Hooking up with anonymous women for a quick, down-and-dirty fix in a random hotel room, bathroom or even alley had seemed like the perfect cure for what ailed him. Yet those fleeting encounters left him empty and out of sorts.
So he’d reined in all his destructive behavior and poured his energy into something positive and healing. Something that grabbed his imagination and let him grow into a world-renown artist. Photography.
When the waiter returned with the whiskey and set it before Oliver, he scarcely noticed. His attention was fixed on the couple that had just walked past him on their way to the bar. More specifically, his interest was snagged by the willowy, graceful woman with sable hair restrained in a low, sleek knot. She looked like a model dressed for a go see in black skinny jeans, a snug black top and lightweight bomber jacket. In her three-inch ankle boots, she topped six feet, inches taller than her companion, something that must have poked at the man’s ego, given his pushy handling of the woman as he directed her onto a barstool.
Oliver bristled as he noted the woman’s stiff posture. Why was someone with her level of sophistication and refinement wasting her time with such a bully?
The woman balanced a model’s portfolio on her lap as the man settled on her far side. Oliver had an unobstructed view of her profile. Even as he noted her sleek dark hair and almond-shaped eyes, suggesting she could be of Filipina descent, his hand moved automatically toward the bag beside him, fingers sliding around the camera inside. What stopped him from drawing it out and aiming the lens at the woman wasn’t a sense of propriety but something else.
He’d taken up photography in high school, observing people, capturing their essence with his camera, taking from them without giving anything back. Once he’d turned professional, he’d snapped photographs that won him great acclaim, but he viewed these as career achievements rather than personal wins.
This woman evoked a desire to appreciate her up close, without the barrier of a camera between them. He wanted to absorb her with his fingers and drink her in with his lips. To close his eyes and listen to the patterns of her voice. But for now, Oliver settled back and let his gaze follow her every movement.
She sat without speaking, her gaze fixed on the cocktail the man had ordered for her, never once reaching for the martini glass. Meanwhile the man slammed two drinks in rapid succession, each one spurring his rudeness as he berated her. The third drink spilled as he gestured with the glass, but the woman had become stone. Yet, despite her stillness, Oliver sensed she wasn’t cowed. Fury, not fear, made her cling to the portfolio on her lap.
Oliver watched their interaction in rapt fascination, wishing he was close enough to overhear their exchange. She wore no rings on either hand, so their relationship wasn’t a permanent one. Oliver was surprised how much this assumption cheered him. But a moment later, all he could feel was a sudden rush of fury as the guy slammed his drink on the bar, making the liquid slosh onto her. Not only did he not apologize as she began blotting her jeans with a napkin, but the guy got up from his stool and delivered yet another ultimatum. Both figures remained frozen while the man waited for the woman to reply. She left off drying her clothes and studied him with solemn eyes for several seconds before shaking her head. Obviously, this was not the response he’d been after, because he spat out a vicious retort and abandoned the woman where she sat.
As the man neared the exit, Oliver picked up his untouched drink and stood in time to bump into the guy. The expensive whiskey sloshed vigorously in the crystal tumbler. With a twist of his wrist, Oliver doused the man.
“What the hell?” he shouted, glaring at Oliver.
“Sorry about that.” Oliver pushed sincerity into his tone, hiding his satisfaction as the bully got a little taste of his own rudeness.
“Sorry?” the man raged, pulling out a business card. “I don’t care if you’re sorry. I want you to pay for my dry cleaning.”
“Of course.” Oliver scanned the card. “Ty Littel. I promise you’ll be hearing from me soon.”
“It’s pronounced Li-tell, not Little.”
Oliver inclined his head and replied smoothly, “My mistake.”
“Whatever.” With a sneer, Littel pushed past Oliver and stomped toward the exit.
Tapping the card against his fingertips, Oliver watched until the man disappeared from sight. He then headed toward the bar and the woman who sat stiffly facing forward, her lips tight with suppressed emotion. Oliver stepped up to her side and slid a fifty toward the bartender to cover the couple’s tab. He’d noted when Littel had left his date that he’d neglected to pay for the drinks.
“That guy was a dick,” Oliver declared, hoping his words would alleviate some of the sting from the previous encounter. “You’re better off without him.”
Not wanting to intrude after what had been a fraught moment for the woman, he’d intended to make the gallant gesture and leave. But then her warm-brown gaze touched his, and for an instant, every thought came to a crashing halt. He was utterly transfixed by the emotions darting across her oval face. Anger. Horror. Recognition. Relief. The changes came so fast that Oliver could barely keep up. But it wasn’t until she slammed the door on her reaction to his appearance that an elusive memory tugged at him.
“Do I know you?” The question blurted out of him.
He expected her to bristle at the obvious pickup line in a hotel bar. Instead, her left eyebrow gave a minute twitch.
“Do I look familiar?”
“Somewhat. I just can’t place you. Are you a model?”
Her lashes flickered, giving the impression that his question displeased her. “For the moment.”
Her enigmatic remark stirred his curiosity. “I thought so. I’m Oliver Lowell.”
A tiny tug at the corner of her mouth might have indicated a smile. “I know.”
Unsurprising, since he’d made a splash in the fashion industry as a model before earning
a solid reputation around town for his photography. “Have I photographed you?”
When he’d quit modeling, the transition to fashion photography had made the most sense. He’d started by doing beauty shots for up-and-coming models, and his work had been so well received that he’d started getting offers from magazines.
She shook her head.
“Of course not,” he murmured. “I definitely would’ve remembered you.”
Her enigmatic smile flashed, making his fingers twitch, but as before, not in the direction of his camera. He longed to caress her flawless skin and see if it could possibly be as soft and smooth as it appeared.
“So, where did our paths cross?” he asked, scouring his memories but finding only a vague impression that they’d met. Not surprising, since much of his early twenties were lost in a drug-induced haze.
“We walked the Valentino spring show eight years ago.” As they spoke, she eased the white-knuckle grip on the purse in her lap. Now she brushed a wayward curl behind her ear with long fingers, tipped with short nails painted a forgettable nude. “It was my first runway show.”
Fury and self-loathing burned in Oliver’s gut. “And my last.”
That was the night his friend died from an overdose. A night where Oliver had not been there for Carson because he’d been too busy screwing up his life.
“And now you’re behind the lens,” she said, seemingly unaware that his thoughts had taken him down a dark road. “How does that feel?”
“I like being in control,” he replied, ignoring the mocking laughter echoing in the back of his mind.
Control was something he hadn’t known much growing up as the youngest son of a powerful family. His father had pushed him to do better, to match the achievements of his older twin brothers, and then punished Oliver when he failed to live up to the expectations established by Joshua and Jacob.
He’d had no control when his father told him he would attend Falling Brook Prep and later Harvard. Nor when Oliver had tried to resist his father’s heavy hand and join the photography club. Older brother Joshua’s artistic talent and their mother’s insistence on indulging it, despite their father’s protests, meant that Oliver had been bullied into going out for soccer and baseball.