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Summer Fire

Page 73

by Gennita Low, R. J. Lewis, L. Wilder, Victoria Danann, Kym Grosso, Cat Miller, Mimi Barbour, Clarissa Wild, Teresa Gabelman, Helen Scott Taylor, Victoria James, Mona Risk, Patrice Wilton, Linda Barlow, Joan Reeves, Danielle Jamie, Terri Marie, Lorhain


  He pulled back and kissed her, long and hard, until they were both breathless.

  The lake breezed caressed their skin. “Don’t be sorry. Let’s go forward with no regrets.”

  “Thank you for not giving up on me, for not letting me go. Thank you for coming back.”

  “Don’t thank me.”

  “I’m not done. I have to apologize. My dad told me what he did. He was so wrong.”

  “You don’t have to apologize for him. It was all messed up and we were young and didn’t know how to deal. Hell, we’d barely even been a couple before Sophie. I don’t blame him. He was trying to keep his only child, his only family, safe. He barely knew me. All he did know was that I dragged his daughter out to the middle of nowhere for a job and that I came from no money with no family. I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, kissing him again.

  “And I wanted to tell you, before you told me about the land, that I would go anywhere with you, that you’re right. We belong to each other. There is no other man for me, Cade. You were my first, and there wasn’t anyone when we were apart.”

  “Not even Herb?”

  She punched him in the stomach. He grabbed her hand and kissed it, his eyes laughing.

  “I want you forever, Cade. I want to start over with you, start a family with you.” She choked on that last part, but he kissed her into forgetting everything but him. “But I still don’t feel right about you having to leave your company. I hadn’t ever thought about leaving Cedar Ridge, but I don’t want to be without you again. I will for you.”

  “Well, you don’t have to. They’re coming here, to Cedar Ridge.”

  “You’re kidding,” she said, grinning. The happiness in his eyes was contagious. She knew how close they all were.

  “Nope. We can work from anywhere now, and they’re all ready for a new adventure. I’ll build a large home office and then we’ll all scope out a building for our company.”

  “Wow. So the whole gang? Ben, Dylan, Eric, Max and Morgan? They would do that?”

  “Yup. You may get sick of them pretty fast. I’m sure they’ll be hanging around a lot at first, looking for food and handouts. They’re kind of a bunch of wusses.” He laughed.

  “They made all this possible, they came through for you and they’re loyal to you. I’ll never get sick of them,” she said.

  “I’ll ask you that again after they’ve been here for a few weeks.”

  He took her hand and she stopped suddenly as she looked at his hand in hers. She pulled her wedding ring out of her pocket and before she could slip it on her finger, he stopped her.

  “May I?” he whispered.

  She nodded, emotion pummelling through her as he slipped the simple, white gold band on her finger. He kissed the palm of her hand, and then her lips. “I love you so much,” she whispered against his mouth. They started back up the hill. The grass was rich and long, and the sound of the waves melodic and soothing. She could imagine what it would be like in their own home, together with the windows open, and the lake breeze billowing through.

  This was more than she ever dreamed for herself. He was more than she ever dreamed.

  “What do you think of the bike?”

  “It’s pretty hot, I gotta admit,” she said with a laugh.

  He tugged her over to him and they fell onto the grassy slope. He made sure she fell on top of him and he took the brunt of the fall. His hands went to frame her face, his gaze steady on hers. “Hey!” she yelled, his hands roaming over her body, a gleam in his eye.

  “This is why it’s good to have five acres. No one is around.”

  “Now why would that matter?” she said teasingly as he buried his hands in her hair.

  “You have always been the sweetest thing. I love you, Jules.”

  He leaned up and grabbed her mouth in a kiss that held all the familiarity of their past and all the adventure and excitement of their future. He kissed her like he knew there would be tomorrow.

  The End

  RESCUED BY THE RANCHER

  Starting over and starting a whole lotta trouble…

  Meredith Anderson left her difficult past behind to create a new life for herself in Tall Pines – where she can be the independent, confident woman she always dreamed of being. Now she’s a partner in her sister’s wedding planning business, helping brides realize their happily-ever-afters…even as she promises herself to never fall in love.

  Meredith’s sweetness and vulnerability brings out the protective side of rancher Gage Mackenzie – even though their worlds are miles apart. All it takes is one night for desire to take hold of them both, a sizzling encounter that can only lead to the promise of more. But Meredith isn’t looking for more, and even if she was, Gage is set to leave Tall Pines behind him…

  See RESCUED BY THE RANCHER at:

  Your Favorite Retailer

  About Victoria James

  Victoria James always knew she wanted to be a writer and in grade five, she penned her first story, bound it (with staples and a cardboard cover) and did all the illustrations herself. Luckily, this book will never see the light of day again.

  In high school she fell in love with historical romance and then contemporary romance. After graduating University with an English Literature degree, Victoria pursued a degree in Interior Design and then opened her own business. After her first child, Victoria knew it was time to fulfill her dream of writing romantic fiction.

  Victoria is a hopeless romantic who is living her dream, penning happily-ever-after’s for her characters in between managing kids and the family business. Writing on a laptop in the middle of the country in a rambling old Victorian house would be ideal, but she’s quite content living in suburbia with her husband, their two young children, and a very bad cat.

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  Victoria loves connecting with readers; you can find her online at www.victoriajames.ca and on Twitter: @vicjames101

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  Husband for a Week

  Mona Risk

  HUSBAND FOR A WEEK

  by Mona Risk

  HUSBAND FOR A WEEK © Mona Risk 2015

  Jonathan Ramirez values his law practice and doesn’t believe in commitment, especially not to Isabella Cantari, a sassy young woman, who seems to attract trouble wherever she goes. Sicilian vendetta, fake husband, and an irascible matchmaking grandmother complicate Jonathan and Isabella’s lives. Can love conquer all?

  Chapter One

  An arm wrapped around Isabella’s waist and a gun barrel pressed against the sheer wrap covering her bikini.

  Good God, a predator assaulting her in the garage of her luxury high rise? She’d always felt safe at the Blue Waves building where invisible surveillance cameras watched over the humongous parking lot sheltering hundreds of cars.

  Where were the security guards? Couldn’t they see her? Help her?

  Isabella squirmed and twisted to free herself from her assailant’s encircling arm.

  To no avail.

  “Walk straight, little Cantari. One wrong move and I shoot.” The heavy accent betrayed the man’s Italian origin and his breath reeked of onion. Her nose twitching at the repugnant smell, Isabella slowly turned her head to peer at the aggressor who knew her family name. A Sicilian, to be sure. Dark hair, dark skin and not much taller than her.

  “Okay, amico, what do you want?” Was his presence related to the century-old vendetta that had followed her family from Sicily to Fort Lauderdale? Her brother, Dante, had recently received several letters and phone threats from the Ravenos. She’d heeded Dante’s warning and stopped swimming or jogging alone in the early morning.

  “Quiet. Walk,” the man grumbled against her hair.

  What did he want from her?

  No way would she let him intimidate her. After all, Cantari blood ran in her veins. “
Hey, you can’t shoot me. Residents and cars cross this garage all the time.”

  With the hope that her words would prove true, she surveyed the area around her for a slowly rolling car. Unfortunately none were arriving or going out. She’d left her grandmother on the beach terrace to bring back their lunch, but the old lady wouldn’t be much help. Isabella would have to count on herself.

  “Shut your mouth and move.” His gun dug deeper into her side. “We’re taking a ride in my car.”

  As if she’d make the mistake of riding with him. If he knew her grandfather, or Dante, she’d show the bastard she was made of the same stuff. Her nonno had insisted Isabella learn self-defense and many more skills to attack a stalker if necessary.

  Scowling at him, she bit her lip. Nonno’s voice echoed in her ear. Keep your calm, plot your move, and go for it. Without hesitation, she wriggled her shoulders. Her silk wrap slid down her arms.

  “Please, poulheese, don’t kill me,” she whimpered and took a deep breath. Her chest puffed up.

  The man peeked at her cleavage and gasped. His eyes widened. “Uh…” He licked his lips. “Move, I said.”

  Inhaling and exhaling, she forced deep sobs out of her mouth and bounced her breasts in the process. With more fidgeting, her wrap fell down to her waist. A quick glance assured her that the material covered both the hand squeezing her stomach and that holding the gun.

  “I’m too young to die,” she wailed and sobbed, jiggling her breasts right and left to keep his attention focused on her assets.

  Boy, he focused all right, and seemed ready to lower his head and devour her. Without stopping the distracting bouncing, she jerked her leg back and kicked his ankle. In a brisk motion, she pulled her wrap open and let it fall off her body and onto his hands.

  “Too young,” she mumbled as she propelled herself out of his grasp.

  With a perfect karate move, she stretched her leg backward and connected it with his belly. Immediately, she followed with a punch to his eyes. Her excellent martial arts coach had taught her well.

  The man doubled over in pain and dropped the gun. She picked it up and raced toward the door leading to the beach. While running, she caught a glimpse of her neighbors, Tom Dallen and his wife Julia, in a car not far from the door. Had they noticed anything?

  “Careful,” she screamed. “There’s an armed man in the garage. Call the police.”

  “Bitch. Wait,” her aggressor shouted. His fingers entangled in the soft material of her wrap, the man cursed and paused to free his hands.

  Tough il mio amico. She didn’t stop or turn her head. In a few more steps she’d be safe. But she couldn’t stroll on the terrace with a gun in her hand and terrify the sunbathing neighbors.

  She swiftly surveyed her bikini. Neither of the pieces offered much space to hide anything. On second thought, she slipped the Colt inside the bra material, squeezed it under her right breast, and folded her arm to cover the bikini bra. Nonno would be proud of her.

  From the garage she stepped into the hall leading to the beach. With a sharp pull she opened the door to the terrace overlooking the beach and ran to the table and umbrella where her grandmother relaxed.

  Nonna immediately propped up her lounge chair. “You took so long. Where’s our lunch? What happened, Bella?” In her late seventies, Regina Cantari was a remarkably beautiful woman, sociable and open minded. She took off her sunglasses to better peer at her granddaughter.

  “A Sicilian jerk caught me. He had a gun in my side and tried to abduct me.”

  “Madre di Dio, was it one of the Raveno brothers?”

  “More like a hired hand. He wasn’t as tall as Lorenzo, or Franco, or Marco.”

  “The devil takes these Ravenos.” How often had Isabella heard her grandmother say these words?

  “Don’t worry, Nonna. I used our family’s famous karate move on the man and managed to disarm him. Tom and Julia Dallen saw me running and I yelled at them to call the police. Now I need a beer,” she mumbled after a deep sigh.

  Isabella bent toward her large bag and retrieved her beach towel and the two cans of beer she’d brought to drink with their lunch. Several gulps restored her racing pulse to a normal speed.

  “Much better.” She snapped open the other can and handed it to her grandmother. “Here, have a beer.”

  More comfortable now, Isabella flung the towel over her shoulders and chest. Careful not to let her old companion or the dozing sunbathers notice, she withdrew the gun from its hiding niche and stowed it in her bag.

  A hand on her heart, her grandmother took a few sips of her beer, and then set the can on the stone table and tapped a number on her cell phone. “Dante, one of the Raveno’s men tried to take your sister at gunpoint. Send us someone to protect her.”

  “Nonna, what are you saying?” Isabella snatched the phone. “Dante, I’m fine. I tripped the guy and ran to the beach. I’ll be okay, don’t worry.”

  “Good, but remember, no police. Bad publicity for my firm. Stay with Nonna on the terrace until I come,” Dante uttered with the same heavy voice he used to scare her into obedience when she was a little girl.

  “But—”

  “Please, Bella. I have enough on my mind.”

  “Sure.” Typical big brother’s act. He didn’t even let her explain that the police might already be involved. Would she ever grow up in his mind, be a sensible adult who could make correct decisions on her own?

  She fluttered the towel on the lounge chair and sat comfortably to spray suntan lotion on her back and shoulders. “If I have to obediently wait for my big brother, I may as well enjoy the day.” She lay down in the sun and closed her eyes, determined to avoid a discussion about the past and the Sicilian vendetta.

  “How are you doing, Mrs. Cantari?” The male voice startled Isabella.

  The gorgeous Mexican-born attorney, Jonathan ‘Juan’ Ramirez who’d been working with her brother for two years, turned toward her. Isabella couldn’t suppress a happy smile. Jeez, he was getting more handsome every time she saw him, better looking than in her many fantasies.

  “Jonathan, how come you’re here?”

  A scowl gathered between his eyebrows and deep concern shadowed his hazel eyes. “Isabella, are you okay? I overheard Dante talking to you. I told him I would come and see you.”

  He sat on a chair, facing her and her grandmother. It was one thing to distract an enemy with her skimpy bikini, and another to carry on a serious conversation with her brother’s friend. Maybe she should buy a one-piece bathing suit like the navy blue one Nonna wore, decent and covering all the round parts.

  Although Jonathan seemed quite concerned about her well-being, she caught his gaze roaming over her chest and belly. Nothing left to the imagination with her tiny bathing suit. While using her wrap as a weapon, she’d abandoned the delicate fabric to her aggressor. She pulled a second towel from the back of the chair, and casually draped it over herself, holding both ends over her stomach, before launching into her story.

  “We were here all morning. Then at noon, I left to bring our lunch boxes from the apartment. As I was crossing the garage, a Sicilian man pressed a gun in my side and tried to abduct me.”

  Jonathan’s brows gathered in concern and his hands flew to her shoulders.

  “Are you hurt?”

  Delighted by his attentions, she lowered her eyelids. “Not really.”

  Could she tell him to forget the garage episode and invite her for dinner?

  Chapter Two

  For a few seconds, Jonathan lost his power of speech. “He pulled a gun on you? Da…hmm” He swallowed a curse and cleared his throat. “You must have been terrified.” His eyebrows arching, he peered at her.

  Nope, not a single trace of worry marred her pretty face. He was the one who felt his gut twisting with fear at the thought that some thug had threatened her with a deadly weapon.

  “I managed to trip him and ran away.”

  Jonathan squinted, not only because the bright su
nlight interfered with his contemplation of her beautiful chocolate-brown eyes, but also because he had trouble swallowing her story. “Are you sure it was a gun? Maybe the guy was carrying an umbrella and its pole hit you?”

  Bubbly laughter answered his assumption. “I can tell a gun from an umbrella. In fact, I’ve held enough guns to be capable of differentiating between a Colt and a Glock.”

  “Oh.” He wouldn’t swear he knew the exact difference between the two brands of pistols.

  She patted his hand. “Relax. He’s the one who got hurt. The kick I gave his ankle made him scream. I followed with a good punch to his eye while his hands were tangled in my wrap.”

  “Your wrap? How?”

  “Well, I had to distract him. So I managed to wriggle out of my pareo. It dropped on his hands but he was too busy ogling me to notice.” With a proud smirk, the lovely victim casually recited her tale.

  “Oh I see.” The scene she described resembled a funny video. He burst out laughing. The poor bastard hadn’t stood a chance if he’d focused on Isabella’s superb assets at the wrong time. Jonathan detected a blush under her arched eyebrows as she rearranged the towel over her chest. Embarrassed to be caught ogling her, he quickly lifted his gaze.

  “It’s not a laughing matter,” Mrs. Cantari scolded and glared at him. “Isabella was attacked by an armed aggressor. I want Dante to find out what’s going on.”

  Jonathan immediately sobered. “I’m sorry Ma’am. I understand your concern. I will ask Dante to put me in charge of this case. He has so much on his mind right now, with his heavy workload and his wife’s difficult pregnancy.”

  “I’m not frightened,” Isabella protested.

  That much was obvious. In fact, he was more concerned about her safety than she seemed to be. “Still you were assaulted in broad day light.” He rubbed his temple, trying to emerge from his Isabella-induced trance.

 

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