by J. D. Mason
“Hey,” Cristina said, coming up behind him, and wrapping her arms around his waist.
“Hey, babe.”
“They loved you in there,” she told him. “You did good.”
He sighed. “Being a super star is hard work.”
She laughed. “It is. And I suppose that means that you’re going back into recluse status?”
“You got it.”
She’d landed the cover of Vutura magazine with her story on Ellis. As agreed, Cristina had left out any reference to Vince and Daneen, and Ellis appreciated it. The last three months, he’d kept his promise to her too. Ellis had been patient and he’d been careful while she learned how to make her life her own again on her terms. In his own quiet way, she suspected that he was busy trying to do the same thing.
He turned to her and kissed her. “Did I tell you that I liked that dress on you?”
“You did. A couple of times as a matter of fact. I’m going to have to keep this one.”
He was so fucking handsome that she found it impossible sometimes not to stare at him. “You anxious to get home?”
He shrugged. “New York’s nice and all, but yeah. I’m small town all day long. You’re coming with me, right?”
Cristina had been splitting her time between Blink and Austin for the last three months.
“Yes. Like I promised.”
“Why don’t you make me one more promise, and stay?” Ellis reached into his pocket, pulled out a huge diamond ring, held it up to her, and smiled.
“What the hell is that?” Jules asked, standing in the doorway leading out to the balcony.
Cristina held out her hand and let him slip the ring on her finger.
“Is that a ring?”
She turned to Jules and nodded, but Cristina was absolutely speechless.
Jules looked at the two of them, huffed, rolled her envious eyes, and disappeared inside.
Cristina turned back to him, wrapped both arms around his neck, and whispered, “Yes.”
Read on for a sneak peek of
Stormy Knight
by J. D. Mason
Available March 2016
Copyright © 2016 by J. D. Mason
She’d learned several things about Mr. Reid in the six days she’d allowed him to spend time with her. One, he was tall and lean, but certainly not skinny. Omar had a rock-hard body, a result from spending two hours a day in the weight room at the gym. Two, he had some of the softest lips she’d ever come in contact with, and he must’ve studied kissing in college since he was so skilled in that area. Three, he was good at keeping promises. He’d told her that he wouldn’t bring up the subject of the strip mall, and after that first night, he hadn’t even mentioned it. And four, he was almost impulsive. Omar was an impulsive planner. So, even though something like driving to Galveston after dinner the night before might have seemed impulsive, Lola had a feeling that it was well-thought-out with all the necessary arrangements made well in advance. Still, she had reaped the benefits, like standing out on the beach this morning with a good-looking man watching the sun come up over the ocean.
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and listened to the sounds of gulls flying overhead, to the waves lapping against the shore, and let the breeze carry away all her worries, at least for the time being.
“Let’s walk,” he said, carrying his shoes in his hand.
Lola slipped off her sandals and started to stroll alongside him. Omar held out his hand and waited patiently for her to decide to finally take hold of it.
“You sure know how to chip away at a girl’s resolve,” she told him.
“Are you saying this is working?” he asked. “Oh, wait.” He looked at her. “I think I see a chip. Bout time.”
She rolled her eyes. “You like the challenge and you know it.”
He grinned.
Since the first night at Belle’s, he’d taken her to dinner three times and sent her flowers, once at the store and once at her house. He was working hard and she had to admit, she appreciated the effort. Omar was giving her a good, old-fashioned courting, the likes of which she hadn’t seen since— well, shit. Probably never.
The sand was cool and soft under her feet. His hand, wrapped around hers, was warm and strong. Moments like this made her not want to think about everything going on back home and every time a hint of a thought crept in, Lola pushed it away, and focused on what was happening right here and right now.
He stopped walking and turned to face her. “Thank you for coming with me.”
Lola blushed a little. “You’re welcome,” she said softly.
Omar leaned in and kissed her slowly. It was impossible not to get all weak-kneed at one of his kisses. Lola planted her feet, rested her weight in her heels, and pretended that she wasn’t nearly as affected by them as she really was. But she was always a little light-headed at the end of his kiss.
“What are we going to do the rest of the day?” she asked, composing herself as orange and gold streaked across the blue sky.
“How about a nap and then brunch?”
Lola pondered that question for a few moments and all the ramifications that came with napping with a man who’d kissed her the way he’d just done. “Where?”
He motioned to his left at a large building of condos. That building was one of his well-planned, impulsive whims. Knowing him, he’d already made a reservation.
“Separate rooms?” she probed cautiously.
“Separate beds,” he countered.
“Clothes on?”
Omar took his time answering. “Me? Or you?”
“Ocean view?”
“Of course.”
“Okay.”
He really was a beautiful man in an understated and cautious kind of way. Lola had slept on the drive down, so she wasn’t sleepy, but she watched him while he slept and really took in those things about him that she found herself surprisingly attracted to, like his hands. Omar had strong and yet elegant hands. The line of his jaw, that thick vein running down the side of his neck, his broad shoulders. But it was his nature that pulled everything else together in a way that made her stare sometimes. He was patient, observant, and considerate. He laughed easily and told bad jokes. Omar Reid did not have one cool gene in his body. The only things missing were a bow tie and pocket protector. But he owned who he was, embraced it, and didn’t apologize for it.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked.
Lola hadn’t even realized that he was staring back at her. She shook her head. “No.”
He stretched out his arm and offered his hand, inviting her into the bed with him. “I won’t bite,” he said. “Not unless you ask.”
She hesitated at first, but then thought, Why the hell not? I’m grown. Lola crawled out of her bed and into his. Omar pulled her close, and she rested her head on his chest, sighed, and relaxed into him. When was the last time she’d curled up next to a man? It had been a long time. Too long, and she’d forgotten how good it felt. Omar put his hand under her chin, raised her lips to his, and gave her a delicious and languid kiss. Lola moaned. It had been awhile, longer than awhile since she’d made love. Lola could’ve lied to herself and said that she really wasn’t interested in him like that, but how could she not be interested in him like that?
What is a wife to do when her husband has been missing for six months and she starts to look like the prime suspect?
Don’t miss
The Real Mrs. Price
by J. D. Mason.
About the Author
Demetrius Austin Photography
J. D. MASON is the author of Crazy, Sexy, Revenge; Drop Dead, Gorgeous; Beautiful, Dirty, Rich; Somebody Pick Up My Pieces; Take Your Pleasure Where You Find It; That Devil’s No Friend of Mine; You Gotta Sin to Get Saved; This Fire Down in My Soul; Don’t Want No Sugar; And on the Eighth Day She Rested; and One Day I Saw a Black King. She lives in Denver, Colorado, with her two children. You can sign up for email updates here.
ALSO BY J. D. M
ASON
And on the Eighth Day She Rested
One Day I Saw a Black King
Don’t Want No Sugar
This Fire Down in My Soul
You Gotta Sin to Get Saved
That Devil’s No Friend of Mine
Take Your Pleasure Where You Find It
Somebody Pick Up My Pieces
Beautiful, Dirty, Rich
Drop Dead, Gorgeous
Crazy, Sexy, Revenge
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Excerpt from Stormy Knight
About the Author
Also by J. D. Mason
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
STONE COLE. Copyright © 2016 by J. D. Mason. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Our e-books may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at (800) 221-7945, extension 5442, or by e-mail at [email protected].
e-ISBN 9781466853799
First Edition: February 2016