by Cara Marsi
Damn it all to hell! That purse was supposed to symbolize her new attitude. And now some scumbag had stolen it not ten minutes after she walked out of the store with it. What did that say about her chances for a new start? She looked up to see strangers hovering, offering help in a scattering of languages. She tried to respond, to reassure them she was all right. Her bout of self-pity dissolved with the strangers’ kindness. She could handle this. Fifteen long minutes later, her wine untouched, Lexie stared dismally across the piazza in the direction the thief and his pursuers had taken. Her waiters stood nearby, their faces tense. “The police will find him, signorina. They must.”
Then, like ancient Roman warriors returning from battle, the two policemen, followed by a large group of raucous men and boys, materialized from the alleyway. A tall man wearing a suit and holding her shopping bag walked between the policemen. Who was he? Not the thief. She stood as they approached, wishing she knew enough Italian to ask. His well-cut, dark blue business suit emphasized his broad shoulders and muscular frame as he strode across the piazza toward her. His thick, wavy black hair was expertly slicked back from a face boasting razor sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. He might as well have jumped from the pages of a men’s fashion magazine into her Roman holiday. “Signorina,” Mr. GQ Cover Model said, smiling and holding her bag out to her. He said something totally incomprehensible in Italian, and when she simply stared, he arched one dark eyebrow and tried again. “I believe this is yours?” His English, spoken with a lilting Italian accent, sent unexpected spasms of pleasure over her. Unwilling to tear her gaze away from that oh-so-charming smile, Lexie stalled. She’d never seen a man so ruggedly beautiful. She’d been without sex for too long. That was the only explanation. “Grazie,” she finally said, taking the bag from him. She opened the bag to make sure her purse was indeed inside, then smiled up at her handsome knight. “Thank you so much. You could have been hurt going after that jerk.”
He lifted one elegantly-clad shoulder. “It was nothing. Vermin like that give my city a bad name.” He studied her. “You are American.” Surprise edged his deep, rich voice.
She nodded, then turned to the policemen, who stood silently by. How odd. “Grazie to both of you too.” They touched the brims of their hats at the same time. “We did nothing,” the older of the two said. “This gentleman had wrestled your bag from the thief before we got there.”
“Where is the thief?” Lexie asked, glancing around.
The policeman shrugged. “He got away, but be assured, we will find him.” He smiled and pulled a small notebook from his inside jacket pocket. “Please to give us a little information for our report.”
“Of course,” she said. She quickly gave them the information they wanted.
“Thank you, signorina,” the policeman said as he snapped his notebook shut and stuffed it back into his pocket. His partner remained silent and she assumed he didn’t speak English. With nods to her, the policemen left. “Thanks again,” Lexie called after them. She turned to the handsome stranger who’d rescued her bag. “Please, let me buy you a drink as thanks for your help.”
“Of course. How can I refuse an invitation from such a beautiful woman?”
Lexie blushed. Italian men sure knew how to make a woman feel sexy. She turned back to her table where her waiter stood waiting. With a smile of gratitude, she slid into the chair he held for her. She put her purse and shopping bag under the table, on the side closest to the wall. Mr. GQ Cover Model sat in the opposite chair and ordered a glass of Pinot Noir in beautiful Italian. “I’m Lexie Cortese,” she said, holding out her hand to shake his. He took her hand and turned it over, brushing his lips on her wrist. Sparks seemed to fly up her arm and she felt her eyes widen. This man could charm Neptune’s nymphs right out of the fountain. Trying her best not to blush again, she smiled and pulled her hand free.
“Dominic Brioni,” he said, gifting her with a melt-her-bones smile. Despite his overt sexuality, humor flashed in his eyes, as if he didn’t quite take himself seriously. Oh, yes, she definitely could get used to this. “Cortese,” he said. “Italian?”
“My great-grandparents came from Abruzzo.”
“Abruzzo. That explains your beautiful hazel eyes.” He was a practiced charmer all right. But she liked it. “Do you speak Italian?” he asked.
“I don’t, I’m sorry to say. But you speak beautiful English.”
His eyes sparkled with even greater good humor. “Thank you.” When the waiter handed him his wine, he held up his glass to her in salute. Two hours and two glasses of wine later as he walked her back to her hotel—to make sure she arrived safely he’d insisted—she realized she’d done most of the talking. She’d told him about her home in Las Vegas, her new job at the college, her plan to some day earn a doctorate in Ancient Roman studies. But she didn’t tell him about Jerry. She was growing. She was healing. Her life was far from exciting, yet Dominic continued to listen to her as if she were fascinating. A little niggle of doubt arose as she realized he’d told her very little about himself, only that he was a native Roman who worked in the banking business.
“I would like to see you again, Lexie Cortese,” he said when they reached her hotel. His gaze, as warm as the heat of the sun that had made her feel so relaxed and content in the piazza, now sparked another kind of heat in her. When he brushed back a strand of hair from her forehead, jolts of electricity shot to every part of her body. The man had magic in those fingers. Lexie had always been fond of magic shows. “I’d love to see you again too,” she said, tilting her face up to look at him. He was tall for an Italian, towering over her by about a foot.
He smiled. “It’s a date. Dinner tomorrow night?”
“Uh-huh,” she said, her mind and her body filled with his smile.
“I will pick you up here at eight,” he said.
God, he was gorgeous. Could she put aside a lifetime of caution and take a chance on him? “Eight is good.”
He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Buon giorno, Lexie Cortese. Until tomorrow.”
*I hope you enjoyed this preview of Murder, Mi Amore. If you’d like to read the book in its entirety, it’s available on Kindle and Nook and other online retailers. Please turn the page for an excerpt of The Memory Bouquet by Sandra Edwards*
THE MEMORY BOUQUET
by
Sandra Edwards
I’VE NEVER BEEN ABLE to cross over the Lost Creek bridge without thinking about Jeffrey Dean Ramsey. And it’s impossible to get into the town of Cypress Falls off the Interstate without it—unless you take the long way around. But that involves a lot of back roads. And trust me, you don’t want to get lost on some Louisiana back road in a rental car. It ain’t exactly L.A.—which is where I live now.
I suppose there’s some deeply-buried, lonely part of me that enjoys revisiting my past upon occasion. But a past with a guy like Blue—as his friends used to call him—is worth remembering. Especially when you’ve got a cad like Keith waiting at home in the here and now.
Tango’s sits about a mile up from the bridge on the outskirts of town. That’s the only place they’ll let a bar exist around Cypress Falls. This one’s been there since the dawn of time, I think. I can remember Tango’s back when I was a kid. In fact, I got my first alcoholic drink there when I was seventeen—yeah, it wasn’t legal back then, either.
Usually, when I come home, if it’s not a family thing, it almost always has something to do with heartaches and regrets. This time was no exception. My husband Keith had gone off on one of his business trips again and the kids were away on a summer trip to Cancun—I should be so lucky—so there wasn’t really much reason for me to sit around the house. Plus, I never was the kind of girl to sit around waiting for a guy to show up—even if he was my husband.
Times like this, I always liked to drop by Tango’s before heading for my parents’ home. A little liquid courage never hurt anybody, especially when you know what’s waiting for you when you get to the house. Facing th
e ridicule of my mother was never easy—at any age. And my mother always has plenty to say about my marriage, even after all these years.
I tapped on the brakes and let the car roll to a stop near the front door of the bar. There were only a couple of cars in the lot. I was glad I wasn’t likely to run into a bunch of people who’d be asking all kinds of nosey questions about my very famous twin sister or my failure to nab, and hold onto, a husband who was at best a second-rate actor.
I let out some of my frustration when I palmed open the wooden door. The inside was as empty as the parking lot. Tango was behind the bar wiping down the counter, and not looking much older than he had when he served me my first drink twenty-five years ago—God, had it been that long? It seemed like yesterday.
I approached the bar and he gave me a wink and half smile. “Long time no see, Ginger. What’ll you have…the usual?”
“Sounds good, Tango,” I said, claiming a barstool.
He reached into the cooler and grabbed a frosty bottle of Miller. “How’s the world treating you?” he asked, setting the beer in front of me.
“It’s a cruel world, Tango. Damn cruel world.”
“What’s the matter...?” A voice as smooth as Southern Comfort and as sensually sweet as a chunk of DeLafée’s chocolate snuck up behind me. “The law business short on entertainment clients these days?”
My heart damn near stopped right then and there. Not because of what was said, but because of who said it. I looked over my shoulder. “Jeffrey Dean Ramsey...as I live and breathe.”
His baby blues twinkled as he gave me one of his trademark grins. When he smiled, it was hard for a girl to resist. Then and now.
“Ginger...” he said my name and everything after that was a blur. At least that’s the story I’m telling for how I ended up in his arms.
It wasn’t as bad as all that though. It was just one of those friendly greetings between old friends that went on a little too long because we also happened to be ex-lovers. You see, Jeffrey Dean was my first.
He inched me an arm’s length away and gave me a good once-over. “Ginger, you haven’t changed a bit.” Yeah, right. It’d been at least twenty years. “You’re as beautiful as ever.”
“And you’re as good a liar as ever.” We laughed and I climbed back up on my barstool.
“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the empty stool at my side.
“Be my guest.” I shrugged.
Jeffrey Dean joined me at the bar and Tango served us Tequila Sunrises—in honor of those old high school days.
“Hey, do you remember when we met?” Jeffrey Dean elbowed my arm.
How could I forget? It was the night of the summer festival that had always taken place around the Fourth of July holiday. It was the break between tenth and eleventh grade for me. Jeffrey Dean was new to the area, and he was going to be a senior with his own car—plus, he was a hell of a baseball player. He’d infused new hope into Cypress Falls that year, and he didn’t disappoint.
“Yeah,” I said, feeling a little blue. The memories were bittersweet. Mainly because it was a time of such happiness, but it wasn’t meant to last. “I remember that...and a lot more.”
“It took a while to talk you up on that Ferris Wheel.” He gave a little triumphant laugh, even now after all these years.
“Yeah, well...” I rolled my eyes. “You were gifted like that.” I let out a snort and grabbed my cocktail glass. I could see this heading south at any moment.
Jeffrey Dean leaned closer to me. “I hear they still hold that festival every year at this time.” He waited for me to look at him. When I did, he said, “You going?”
Images of my mother badgering me to go, just like she’d done on that fateful night when I first met “Blue”, filled my head. “I hardly doubt I could avoid it.”
He stared at me for what seemed like forever, just looking at me the way he used to—his eyes, like bright sapphires, effectively prolonged the moment. I was torn, knowing I should tell him to stop, but I was enjoying the feeling washing over me. It was a sensation I hadn’t felt in ages, and right up until this very instant I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed it—him.
Needless to say, I was feeling pretty foolish about sinking back into those old high school daydreams. I needed to get out of there before I did something I’d regret. Well, maybe not regret so much as feel damned guilty about.
I looked at my watch. “Oh, look at the time.” I grabbed my purse off the counter and pushed myself up from my stool. “It was nice seeing you again, but I’ve got to go.”
I made it to my car without looking over my shoulder, and I was damned proud of myself for it. I hit the unlock button on my key fob and reached for the handle. All I had to do was get in the car and I was home free. So why’d I feel like prey being stalked by a highly effective predator?
“Ginger...” He called my name and then followed it with a bit of a laugh.
Get in the car, Ginger. My mental instruction did no good. I glanced over my shoulder.
The years had been good to Jeffrey Dean Ramsey. Shoulder-length black curls had me thinking about things I shouldn’t. Broad shoulders, a trim waistline, and long legs all looked tempting on his tall, athletic frame. Geez, he was good to look at.
I shook my hair back out of my face and squared my shoulders—like that’d really help. “You in town for a while?” I asked, mostly because I couldn’t think of anything else to say. But there was a little part of me that was curious about his plans. He nodded and tossed me a seductive glance. “Good,” I said. “Maybe I’ll see you around before I leave.” I opened the car door, slid behind the wheel and slammed the door shut. Honestly, I was feeling pretty good about putting so much metal and steel between us, but I’d be lying if I said the thought to lock the doors didn’t cross my mind.
As I turned the key in the ignition, I glanced up at the doorway and saw him mouth the words, “You can count on it.”
*I hope you enjoyed this preview of The Memory Bouquet from Sandra Edwards. If you’d like to read the book in its entirety it’s available on Kindle and is coming to Nook and other online retailers soon.*
PRAISE FOR CARA MARSI’S BOOKS
“LOGAN’S REDEMPTION has all the elements that keep the pages turning: passion, romance, thrills and suspense…This storyline is so fantastic the intensity of the players practically leaps out at the reader. This is my first book by Ms. Marsi and most assuredly won’t be my last.” ~Fallen Angel Reviews.
“I have to admit that the sexual tension between the two of them really kept me turning the pages. LOGAN’S REDEMPTION by Cara Marsi is a great read, plain and simple. I thoroughly enjoyed this story and I definitely give it a Top Pick!” ~Romance Reader at Heart
“Marsi has a talent for handling a complicated plot. On top of the emotional story, she adds a strong dose of sexual tension that keeps the suspense and desire high with each turn of the page. LOGAN’S REDEMPTION should definitely be added to your must-read list.” ~My Romance Story Reviews
“LOGAN’S REDEMPTION is riveting. Ms. Marsi is an excellent author and I’ll definitely look for more of her books. I highly recommend this one!”- Romance Junkies
MURDER, MI AMORE is an EPPIE finalist for best romantic suspense.
(MURDER, MI AMORE) “Action, suspense, hot men and a sweet girl caught in the crossfire. Buckle up, this one gets wild…There were so many things to enjoy about this book. I’ve never been to Italy and I must say for the literary journey to a place the author clearly loves, it was worth every moment of my time. ..The characters were fun, sexy and bunches of mysterious. It was easy to envision their adventure in my mind’s eye, and this was one I could see playing out like a fast-paced movie…The pacing is fast. Definitely an edge of your seat read. They went from one major event to another, leaving me little time to catch my breath and steady myself for the next big scene…For those of you who love your romance with some mystery and adventure, and a romantic destination to boot, this is one t
o pick up and try. Enjoy!” The Romance Reviews
“MURDER, MI AMORE is an exciting adventure. Top notch romantic suspense! The whole plot of ‘they aren’t who the other thinks they are’ is always a blast to read about. With great pace, plenty of action, and sizzling tension, Cara Marsi creates an amazing suspense! And the setting, in Rome, I loved it! …If you like romantic suspense novels full of emotion, murder, intrigue and secrets, then MURDER, MI AMORE is a book to add to your list.” - Siren Book Reviews
(CURSED MATES)… “I couldn’t find anything needing improvement. The conflict keeping Kyla and Nick apart is valid, the resolution believable, but Ms. Marsi gives you plenty to worry about before getting to the end. If you enjoy werewolves, you must read this. If you don’t enjoy werewolves read CURSED MATES and you might just start.” - The Pagan & The Pen Reviews
“CURSED MATES has a lot within to appeal to romantic suspense readers who enjoy stories with paranormal flair. It entertains, astounds and even gives a few goose bumps along the way. I’m glad I had a chance to read this tale and am happy with the happily ever after. It’s wonderful to see a tortured hero find his happy and Nick certainly earned his. He was my favorite character.” - Long & Short Reviews
LOVING OR NOTHING IS A FINALIST IN THE NOVELLA CATEGORY IN THE GULF COAST ROMANCE WRITERS OF AMERICA SILKEN SANDS STAR CONTEST
4 Cups from CBLS Reviews:
"Daniel and Tami are lovely characters and their plight with their pasts are believable and it is a nice pleasant journey they go on together to find love. Neither trust their new found feelings in the beginning and it's only as time progresses do, they work through and accept the changes within themselves....