Second Chances Boxed Set: 7 Sweet & Sexy Romances in 1 Book

by Tracey Alvarez

  She looked up at Joel, felt her insides give a little. "It's a coincidence that you turned up tonight, then?"

  "No." He shook his head. "This is no co-incidence. I saw this was on and this is how much I love you, that if I have to wrap up books on cupcakes in pink paper and tie bows and dish out colored leaflets with inflamed genitalia–" his eyes shut a moment "–Then I will do it. To prove I love you."

  He loved her?

  "But more than that." He took a deep breath. "I am really laying my heart on the line here."

  She was silent as the air went even more still around them.

  "Daisy. This is also my way of asking you to be in my life."

  Her eyes felt as if they were about to bulge out of her head. She said, "What?"

  "It all means nothing without you. Life is going to mean nothing without you."

  She shook her head, not understanding.

  "Sure, I'll have a half decent existence. All going to plan, I'll get that associate professorship, I'll do the book tour through the States and Europe. I'll continue to teach and live a decent enough life."

  She spluttered. "That sounds an amazing life to me."

  He shook his head slowly. "But it won't be. Because you won't be in it. There'll be no fun. No laughter. No moments like we shared down the waterfront that day ten years ago."

  "Which you don't remember." Damn, but she was thawing and her pulse was beginning to race with possibility.

  "I kind of do remember. And one day I'll remember it all."

  "One day," she said skeptically.

  He put his arms around her and she didn't shrug him off, didn't flinch.

  Because it was right. It felt so right.

  "When I'm older I'll remember it in detail. It's amazing how your memory comes back when you're older. Or so I'm told. I'm counting on remembering when I'm in my eighties that that night was just as amazing as you said it was." He added, "Being able to tell our kids and our grandkids how we first met will be a bonus."

  She couldn't stop grinning.

  He went on, "Then there are other memories. You and me at Lover's Leap. Dinner at the captain's table."

  She rolled her eyes.

  "The nights we spent together." Suddenly he was intently serious. "I barely knew you and you had me by the balls."

  Someone walked past them, shot them a curious stare and in the streetlight, Daisy felt her face heat.

  Joel said, "You had them in your tight little grip and you just twisted them– "

  "Stop," she said, half aghast, half laughing.

  At that time laughter rang out from the store and suddenly her back was against the wall and he was in front of her, leaning over her, his hands on the wall either side of her. He bent to her and touched her lips with his. Soft for the briefest moment, then hard, firm.

  She shivered breathlessly.

  He murmured, "I underestimated you in the beginning. My work has gotten to be the only thing in the world for me. It has been me. I got caught up in some crazy trap where image mattered. Then I did the movie, the show, and I felt my future, a future I'd spent the last ten years working towards, slide away from me."

  He swallowed. "Maybe I felt if I'd never met you I wouldn't be facing what I was. But I had met you, I was facing my colleagues and my superiors, and the fact is I wouldn't have changed it. I couldn't have changed it. You are in my life, Daisy Miller. With your shop and your craft books and your sexually transmitted disease talks."

  The way he said it made her smile.

  "And there was an ulterior motive coming here tonight, I figured you'd be less inclined to make a scene if it all fell apart."

  "Brave of you, Dr Benjamin." His lips brushed hers. Then again. She shivered and murmured, "All these women, a lone man and a talk on STDs."

  "You have no idea what it took to get me here."

  She did. She realized that she did and she put her arms around him, linked her hands behind his neck.

  "Forgive me," he said. "From now on, I'm yours. I'll do what it takes to make you happy. To make your dreams come true." He let out a shaky breath. "If you'll have me."

  "So that's the proposal?" she said.

  "If you say 'yes'."

  "I say yes," she breathed.

  "Yes?" he repeated.

  She nodded and reached up to him, brushed her lips over his.

  "Oh, yes," she murmured.

  Epilogue

  “For a woman about to get married," Joel observed, "how is it you don’t look nervous while I've already broken out in a sweat?”

  "Secret weapon." Daisy held up her bouquet. “If you take a look you’ll find it's missing a few flowers. If you look down at my feet you will see the remains of what used to be some very charming daisies that have been ripped to shreds.”

  Joel looked and grinned. “Atta girl. I thought I was the only one on the verge of high-tailing it out of here.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way but I've been having second thoughts about this wedding. I've been eyeing up escape routes ever since we got here but so far, I'm coming up blank.”

  "Daisy," he sighed. "You are a woman after my own heart." He bent to kiss her and paused an inch off touching.

  “Contact,” they echoed and pulled away.

  Kelly Brown appeared beside them and moved them around into different positions.

  “Do you remember how this happened?” Joel muttered half to himself. "Why this is happening to us?"

  Daisy inhaled the fragrance from the bouquet in a futile effort to get herself centered but only felt like sneezing. “My best theory is karmic payback. Except I don't believe in karma so basically? I have no flipping idea."

  “Everything all right?” Michelle stepped up next to them, a grin on her face, a bounce in her step.

  “No, it is not all right,” Daisy shot back.

  "Of course it's all right." Michelle brushed her comment aside as she glanced around at the color, the beauty, the splendor. "You are about to have the most amazing wedding ever. This is the happiest day of your life." She sighed. "Everything is perfect."

  "Perfect?" Daisy exchanged glances with Joel who gave her a 'don't go there' look. She turned back to Michelle in disbelief.

  “When did we say we want our wedding on national television, that we want to be told what to do and what to say and where to stand? When? I’ll tell you when." She stabbed the air. "Never. Because we never wanted that.”

  Michelle ignored her. “But it's all so exciting. Who’d have thought it, Daisy. You and Joel. In love. Married. I can hardly wait for the service to begin.”

  “I’ve been waiting ten minutes and any longer and I’m going to faint right here on this – this…” She waved her arms around and some more pieces of daisy went flying. “In this pink – this pink…"

  “Nightmare.” Joel gripped her hand and carefully took the flowers. “Any more waving around and they’ll have to get a new bouquet.”

  “And you can’t have another one,” Michelle told her. “This one was made up especially for you. It's custom made. Or as Kelly likes to say. Bespoke. She asked for my advice specifically on this and it's symbolic. The green represents Golden Grove, where you fell in love. And the Daisies represent you, Daisy and the poppies are for your grandmother."

  "I notice I'm not represented," Joel commented. "What's that all about?"

  Michelle rolled her eyes and muttered, "Men."

  Joel put his arm around Daisy and pulled her up against his body. “Are you really okay? Because we can leave. Admittedly we’ll be sued by the Mystery Date lawyers for breach of contract, but we can fly out tonight and do the deed anywhere you want.”

  “Careful.” Kelly re-appeared, and pushed them apart. “That dress cost over seven grand. We have to give it back after the wedding. People are going to want this dress after they see it on the show. It's been programmed into my Twitter feed. We should be starting in–" Her gaze was suddenly caught by a commotion near the door and her face turned red with
frustration. "I do not believe this. I can see we are going to have a problem with the press. They are not to go past that pink line. How many times have I told them to stand back? Hundreds? Thousands? They are all imbeciles. Complete morons." She stomped off, leaving Joel and Daisy alone on the set. Alone, except for the giant pink heart behind them. Around them, crews bustled while Michelle, their families and friends took their seats.

  Daisy glanced sideways at Joel and her heart skipped. She suspected it always would, that she would never grow tired of gazing at him.

  “Did I tell you,” she murmured, “that you look irresistibly handsome? So much so I just want to take your chubby cheeks in my hands and squeeze?”

  His eyes glazed. “Jeez, I wish I could kiss you right now. The sort of kiss where we end up on the floor naked.”

  “There'll be something in the contract about wrecking the make-up.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I still don’t know how I missed this marriage clause thing. I even tried to read most of the darned contract.”

  “I made the foolish call to rely on Rob bleeding Rafferty to tell me all this stuff. I never figured I’d get screwed by him over this."

  Daisy glanced over towards Kelly. "I think it's more Kelly. She's ratings mad. Her social media people are spamming Twitter, Facebook and everything else with hashtags. Rob just looks like he’s having a heart attack over there.”

  They both stared at Rob who was on his mobile. He managed a smile as he came over, pocketing his phone. “That was Kate. Wants me to pick up teething gel on the way home.”

  “Isn’t the baby a little young,” Daisy asked cautiously, “to be teething?”

  Rob shrugged. "Is one week too young? All I know is Kate rang, Kate asked, Kate gets."

  “I have no sympathy for you,” Joel said. “So don’t start looking for any over here.”

  Rob held his hands up in surrender. “Don’t blame me. It was Kelly who saw the announcement on Twitter. You shouldn’t have put it out there, you should have just eloped. You'd have been in breach of contract but that wouldn't have been my concern. It's what the network pays lawyers to figure out." Rob twisted his neck as the director gestured to him.

  “Okay, I think it’s time. We’re about to start.”

  “At last,” Daisy breathed as they took their places in front of the minister.

  She pushed her shoulders back and exhaled long and slow. “In a few hours we’ll be off to Golden Grove. Me and my new husband.” She glanced at Joel. "Associate Professor Joel Benjamin. I do like the sound of it. Does that make me Mrs Associate Professor?" She grimaced. "I hope not."

  "It's appalling. But I'm prepared to be Mr Daisy Miller."

  "What about Mr Daisy Miller-Benjamin?" She grimaced again. "Ouch. Can't do that either."

  "Why not?"

  "Because of Myrtle. We can't let our first born go around life known as Myrtle Miller-Benjamin." She shuddered. "Too cruel."

  "Myrtle," Joel murmured. Funny, but he was looking forward to meeting Myrtle in seven months time. If their firstborn was indeed a Myrtle.

  He grinned at Daisy, she grinned back and discreetly patted her stomach, and Joel reached for her hand as the minister smiled out amidst the studio lights and the flashing of cameras, "Ladies and Gentlemen…”

  THE END

  I hope you enjoyed Dating Daisy. If you’d like to find out more about my books you can sign up to my newsletter here or check out my website.

  Also Available by this Author

  Return to Frazier Bay

  Blue Creek Bachelor

  Daniel’s Bride

  Falling for Jack

  Love the Commute Short Story Anthology

  Falling for Jack

  Jack Fletcher has survived his rough upbringing to become a mega success, but with his personal life down the toilet, discovering he has a son sends his life even further into turmoil.

  Robyn Taylor was the brainy girl destined for great things who now waits tables for a living to support her twins. Life is a struggle, but when Jack convinces her he needs her to look after his son, the conditions are too good to say 'no' to.

  Robyn has always had a bit of a crush on Jack, but being this close means the crush is rapidly turning into something else, and when Jack gets shocking news, it draws the two even closer together.

  But how can Jack ever believe he can be a father to his son, and a husband to a woman who must learn not only how to trust him - but to have faith in herself as well.

  Set in New Zealand.

  Excerpt

  “Robyn,” he finally murmured. “Robyn Taylor.”

  A flush of heat worked its way up her neck, along with shock that he knew who she was. Jack Fletcher knew who mousey, head-in-a-book Robyn Taylor was? She dredged up the smile she used when she was being polite. Hopefully in the dim light he wouldn’t notice she was in the throes of a full-on attack of good old fashioned embarrassment. “Hi, Jack,” she said.

  “Robyn Taylor,” he murmured again, saying it as if it were exotic and amazing. There was a time she’d practiced saying her name, too, though it generally had ‘doctor’ attached to it. Dr Taylor. Dr Robyn Taylor. Robyn Taylor, MD.

  “I’m surprised you even know my name,” she told him truthfully.

  His mouth widened. “I remember you all right. You were the principal's daughter, one of the smartest kids at the school. You and your sister. Was it you who won the scholarship to med school?” His gaze wandered over her waitress uniform again, in time with the heat now rising even further over her face. “Or was that Kelly?”

  About the Author

  Joanne Hill is a Kiwi indie author of short contemporary and cosy novels with strong romantic elements.

  Her novel "Falling for Jack" was a Readers' Choice winner at the RWNZ Clendon, and she has won the RWA Opening Chapter and RWNZ Short Story award.

  Check out the website at www.joannehill.com

  The Wrong Sister

  Kris Pearson

  From the ‘Wicked in Wellington’ series. Fiona Delaporte has an impossible assignment—to care for her newly widowed brother-in-law and his tiny daughter. (The newly widowed tall, dark and delicious brother-in-law she’s secretly wanted for five long, frustrating years.)

  WARNING: Contains one hot man who always gets what he wants - in bed and out.

  Kindle Edition

  ISBN 978-0-473-20141-8

  For more information about Kris’s other books, visit http://www.krispearson.com/

  Love and thanks to Philip for the covers and the unfailing encouragement and computer un-snarling. And in memory of my mother, Glad—who once famously said “People don’t want to read about sex, darling.”

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is co-incidental.

  Copyright © 2011 by Kris Pearson

  Cover design © by Philip Pearson

  Cover photograph dreamstimes.com

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.

  Chapter One

  “I don’t need you here,” Christian growled.

  He moved close behind Fiona as she stood by the floor to ceiling sliders in the sunlit living area. She filled his senses. His eyes soaked up every strand of her shining hair, the stretch of her pale blue T-shirt over the curve of her shoulder, the just-glimpsed bra-strap through it. He heard her soft breathing, saw her breasts rising and falling, but she’d turned her face aside and he had no way of seeing if she’d bitten her bottom lip in frustration or closed her eyes in annoyance. She wouldn’t be smiling, that was for sure. More like vibrating with fury.

  “I don’t want you here,” he continued, knowing it was a huge lie.

>   He leaned an arm on the window frame, partly imprisoning her, but touching her nowhere. Her subtle fresh perfume wafted across to taunt him. He ached to bridge that tiny distance between them. Sensed the magnetism pulling them together. And knew that of all the women in the world, this was one he wouldn’t dare take a chance on.

  Worse—the one he wanted and absolutely couldn’t have.

  The heat of his body radiated across the small space between them as Fiona stared resolutely through the glass. The view of Wellington harbor might be fantastic, but right now her imagination was consumed by his long thighs in soft old blue jeans, right behind her. Hell, she could almost feel his thighs—it was just so easy to imagine them pressing lightly along the backs of hers.

  There was a right-angled rip in the fabric above one of his knees, and she’d glimpsed brown skin and dark shining hairs through the enticing gap.

  She swallowed.

  Since she’d padded barefoot into the huge room five minutes earlier, her eyes had been constantly drawn to the off-centre rubbed-and-faded patch of fabric at his groin. The old jeans had seen a lot of wear. Each time she looked, a delicious tingle spread through her breasts because of the giveaway condition of the denim. If she touched him right there…

  Stop it! Stop it! This is the last thing I need. I can’t give in or the whole deal becomes impossible.