“I am not.” But the things she’d said had obviously revealed all her fears.
He held her chin in his hand. “I want to kiss you, Grace.” When she widened her eyes, he added, “Yeah. I do.”
He didn’t ask, he simply acted, putting his lips to hers in the sweetest, gentlest kiss she’d ever known. Not that she’d been kissed a lot. She wasn’t the kissable kind.
“You’re thinking too much,” he said against her mouth. Then he cupped her head and kissed her harder.
Grace parted, let him in, kissed him back. She tasted the sweetness of the pink pony cake, and something else uniquely him. She savored the press of his body against hers, melting into him as he wrapped his arms around her.
In the distance, she heard the shouts and shrieks of little children. Brian leaned his forehead against hers, rubbed her nose with his. “You don’t think they’re killing each other back there, do you?”
She laughed. It was ridiculously close to a sob. Because no one had ever kissed her like that. Not like they meant it. “I counted seven adults. That should be enough to handle any skirmish, shouldn’t it?”
“You’re right, you really don’t have enough experience with kids. You have no idea what they’re capable of. Valentine can be a monster.”
She suddenly felt light, airy, almost as if she were floating above herself and looking down. “I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it. An adorable monster, but still a monster. I’m just warning you so that you’re prepared in the future.”
The future. More than one date. Something inside her was growing, an ember flaring to life. It didn’t seem possible, but this man might actually be interested in her. Attracted to her. Despite everything her mother had ever said.
“So, are you going to say yes to coffee?”
With his arms around her, she felt bold. “I thought it was dinner.”
“Dinner works even better. I want to know everything about you, Grace.”
“I haven’t had a very interesting life. You’ll get bored.”
“I won’t.” He put his lips to hers again, kissed her hard and sweet.
God, she could get used to this. If she hadn’t met Marilyn. “What about your wife?”
For just a moment, a cloud passed over them, or maybe it was just the darkening of his eyes. “Marilyn liked you.”
“She didn’t even know me,” Grace protested.
“I knew Marilyn, and she would have gone to twenty bakeries. She chose you. She saw something in you that she trusted instinctively. She could see what kind of woman you are.” He tightened his arm across her back. “I loved her with everything I had. And I’ve missed her. But she never expected me to be alone for the rest of my life. Maybe she chose you for more than just the cakes you make for Valentine.” He let a beat of silence pass. “Give us a chance to find out, Grace.”
She wasn’t a risk-taker. She managed every aspect of the shop, overseeing every task, afraid of what could go wrong. She had to be there every moment. And she guarded her heart the same way, always afraid a man couldn’t possibly be interested because her mother said men only wanted pretty and petite. What if her mother was wrong?
“Grace,” he whispered, a plea, a question. “You still haven’t said yes.”
If she walked away, she’d never know if he could actually care about her. The risk was really not giving him a chance. “Yes. Dinner.”
He broke into a huge grin. “When?” he insisted.
“Um.” She’d have to juggle things. If there was more than one date, she’d have to juggle a lot of things. Roger was always complaining that she micromanaged; this could be his opportunity. “Sunday evening.”
“I’m sure Hannah will stay with Valentine. She’s been dying for me to go out.”
Yet Brian hadn’t. Not until he met Grace. Okay, it still didn’t seem possible. But it wasn’t impossible either.
He backed up the porch, toward the front door. “Now, you were only here for an hour, but you said you could spare two. So will you come back in for a little while?” His eyes sparkled. “You can be my valentine.”
Laughing, she said, “You already have a Valentine.”
“Then be my other valentine.” He held out his hand.
She gazed at his beautiful face and finally put her hand in his. “I think I can manage another hour.”
She had a feeling it would lead to so much more. Just the way baking Valentine’s cakes had.
*
About Jasmine Haynes
Jasmine Haynes, Rita Finalist for Somebody’s Lover, plus two-time Holt Medallion and National Readers Choice Award winner, is the author of over 35 classy, erotic romance tales. In 2013, she’s started a sexy new series for Berkley Heat, beginning with The Naughty Corner coming Oct 2013 and Teach Me a Lesson in Apr 2014. And there will be more in the sensual West Coast series! Look for Book 4, The Other Man, available now. Of course, she’s also the author of the award-winning Max Starr psychic mystery series. And don’t miss her writing as Jennifer Skully, KOD Daphne du Maurier award-winning author of contemporary romance, bringing you poignant tales peopled with hilarious characters that will make you laugh and make you cry. Visit her website at www.jasminehaynes.com and her blog at www.jasminehaynes.blogspot.com
Connect with Jasmine Haynes & Jennifer Skully online
Jasmine’s Website: www.jasminehaynes.com
Jennifer’s Website: www.jenniferskully.com
Max Starr Website: www.jbskully.com
Blog: www.jasminehaynes.blogspot.com
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Hotel Amore
PamelaFryer
After being jilted at the altar by her fiancé, Virginia Montgomery quit her job and moved a thousand miles away to manage Hotel Amore on Little West Cay, hoping she’d never see that no-good coward Thomas Bennet again. But Fate and Mother Nature conspire, and whip up a little Valentine’s Day magic to bring Virginia and Thomas back together.
You know what they say; Fate doesn’t take no for an answer, and it isn’t nice to mess with Mother Nature.
Chapter One
This would be Hotel Amore’s greatest challenge, Virginia Montgomery thought as the elderly couple dragged themselves through the lobby entrance. Despite its romantic influence, Valentine’s Day always seemed to bring out the hard cases.
She smiled and crossed the polished marble floor. “Welcome to the Hotel Amore. I’m Virginia, Director of Customer Relations. You must be the Wallises.”
The man stopped and mopped his brow, eying her distrustfully.
“I hope you had a pleasant flight.”
“Worst I’ve ever been on.” He hoisted his suitcase handle into a more comfortable position.
“Please, allow Theodore to get your bags.”
“With his hand outstretched, no doubt. Thanks all the same, Missy, but this vacation has already cost me an arm and a leg. I’ll carry my own bags.”
Oh yes, Amore’s greatest challenge yet. “Our staff doesn’t accept tips.”
“Hmph. No tips, eh? That remains to be seen.”
“Do stop complaining, Harold. The hotel is lovely. It’s everything I’d hoped it would be. I’m Phoebe Wallis.” The elegant woman pushed past her grumbling husband and took Virginia’s hand. “Please ignore Harold. He feels like he’s being cheated if he doesn’t get to complain about something.”
“I hate to disappoint you, Mr. Wallis, but my staff is ready and waiting to make everything perfect. This is the most romantic hotel on earth. Some say it’s magical.”
“Damned waste of time, if you ask me. We’ve been married thirty-nine years. If she hasn’t had enough romance yet…” he glared at Theodore as the bellhop skillfully whisked his bags away, “I don’t know what more I can do.”
“I guarantee you’ll enjoy your stay.” She handed them each a keycard, saving them the annoyance of checking in. “You’re in room 214.”
“Did you hear that, Harold? Two-fourteen. Valentine’s Day. It’s divine providence.”
“Bah.”
Virginia’s smile never faltered. Harold Wallis wasn’t the first Grumpy Gus she’d welcomed to the private island. “Won’t you step into the bar for a complimentary Palomino? We make it with pineapple juice for a tropical twist.”
“How’d you know the Palomino was my drink? There’s something fishy going on here.”
“Oh do be quiet, Harold. Come along.”
Phoebe linked her arm around Harold’s and led him toward the veranda bar. Virginia watched them go, eager for the challenge.
Her gaze passed over a bittersweet vision and she froze, certain she had imagined what she’d seen. She blinked, not allowing her eyes to stray back to the man that made her breath catch and her heart thunder.
It couldn’t be him. Not here, a thousand miles from Massachusetts. She’d mistaken someone else for him. He was not on Little West Cay.
“Virginia.”
Her entire body turned stiff, her pulse thundering in her ears louder than the ocean. She dragged her gaze to the wide open archway of the hotel’s entrance. Her smile remained frozen in place.
Thomas.
The unwelcome ghost from her past strode slowly toward her, a heart-wrenching vision of pure decadence. Cream Dockers, a form fitting cotton shirt and leather-weave loafers made him look like a life-long resident of the Bahamas. He even had a tan.
In the eleven months since he’d left her at the altar, Virginia had tried to change her memories of him into a smarmy, pencil pushing nerd. What a futile task.
If anything, he’d filled out with muscle, let his perfectly manicured hair grow a little too long around the collar, and now strode toward her with a debonair confidence he’d never possessed before. Obviously life without her had improved him.
Bastard.
“Hello, Virginia.”
She increased her smile even as her anger ratcheted up to level-red. “Mr. Bennett.”
The next instant, the blood rushed to her feet. There could only be one reason he was here. Of all the nerve! To add insult to the astronomical injury he’d already inflicted…
Virginia glanced past him, scanning left, then right. Where was she? She was probably blonde. He’d always had a preference for blondes. Was he on his honeymoon? Treating a new girlfriend? Or just flaunting his latest bimbo?
He glanced over her with a look so warm and longing her heart flip-flopped in her chest. “You look—”
Virginia spun away and stalked to the desk where she pounded his name into the keyboard.
Bennett. Single Occupancy.
She scanned the remaining reservations to be certain. Only one party had yet to check in; a Japanese couple celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.
She looked up to find him standing across from her at the massive granite reception counter. Dear God, had he always been so handsome? While the tan made the thin lines at his eyes more pronounced, somehow that made him even sexier. His blue eyes glittered magnificently against his sun-kissed skin.
“I’m afraid there’s been a mistake. This is a couples-only resort. You can’t stay here alone.”
He smiled wickedly, teasing her. “It’s the only hotel on the island.”
“I’m well aware of that, Mr. Bennett. Fortunately for you the plane doesn’t depart for another half hour.”
His twinkling smile remained, as if he had some naughty secret he wanted her to beg out of him. “Virginia—”
She picked up the phone. “Jonas, please send the van back to the front. Mr. Bennett will be returning to the airport.”
He reached across the desk and depressed the receiver button.
She squared her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Mr. Bennett. This is a privately owned island, and rules are rules.”
“After what we shared, you can at least call me Thomas.”
She slammed down the handset, nearly smashing his removed-in-the-nick of time finger.
A million questions whirled through her head, but what he said next rendered her speechless.
“I’m not leaving, Virginia. Not without you.”
She gaped at him, struggling for a response. She looked at Julio. “I think my boyfriend will have something to say about that.”
“Oh no you don’t.” Her assistant manager placed one hand on his hip, and with the other wagged a finger in her face. “If I pretend to be some jilted female’s boyfriend to spite her ex one more time, Philippe will have my head. And not in a good way.” He whirled around and flounced off.
Heat crawled up her neck, but Virginia kept her cool. The phone gave a single ring and she snatched it up, knowing it was Jonas calling back.
“The plane’s already gone, Virginia. There’s a storm rolling in.”
“Thank you. Never mind, then.” She hung up the phone and took a deep breath while she brought up Thomas’s reservation. “They honeymoon villa?”
“I’m hoping to put it to good use.”
She issued an exaggerated sigh as she held up the room’s keycard. “What are you doing here, Thomas?”
He snatched it from her hand and hoisted the strap to his duffel bag over his shoulder. “Winning you back, of course.”
Chapter Two
Virginia squeezed the handset hard enough to crack it. The other hand rubbed her forehead, futilely trying to massage away her brand new headache. She forced her voice to remain calm. “Did you tell him I’m off duty?”
“I did, but he won’t speak to anyone else about the problem.”
“What problem, exactly?”
Angelique stuttered nervously on the other end of the line. “Um, he wouldn’t say. I’m sorry, Virginia—”
“Don’t worry. It’s not your fault. I’ll take care of it.”
Virginia grumbled under her breath during the entire trek across the grounds from her tiny bungalow to the honeymoon villa. Problem my ass. She rapped on the door. “Management.”
She nearly choked on her tongue when Thomas opened the door. He stood before her in a billowing white cotton shirt left unbuttoned, and a pair of loose fitting drawstring khakis slung so low on his hips she could see that his tan went all the way down. He’d always been fit, but now he sported a six pack of rippling muscle that made her mouth go dry. He looked like he’d stepped out of one of those Giorgio Armani ads shot in Greece.
“What’s the problem?” she barked.
“There’s vermin in my room.” He stood back and held the door wide.
“Vermin?” She looked at the thatched palapa roof in time to see a small green lizard scurry out of sight. “It’s a gecko. They eat insects.”
“There are insects in my room?”
“You’re in the tropics.” She stepped inside and closed the door behind herself. “Thomas, please. Don’t do this.”
He strode across the room to the balcony. “Don’t do what, Virginia? Fight for the woman I love?”
Virginia tramped down the longing for the life she almost had. There was a time when she loved this man so much she ached from it. Her entire world had revolved around him.
She still loved him, she realized. But she’d grown beyond the hurt he’d caused and had learned to live a life where she was the center of her own universe, not just a planet revolving around a man.
“You’re not making this easy on me.” He leaned on the stone balustrade of the curved balcony. In the distance turbulent clouds revealed the nearing storm, but the setting sun painted them magnificently in strokes of violet, chartreuse and gold. A breeze made his shirt flutter, and teased his brassy gold hair.
“Did you make it easy on me?” she demanded. “I told you I was yours always and forever. You’re the one who didn’t say it back.”
The day he’d left her, their wedding day, was the most painful of her life. Not because of the humiliation in front of her friends and family. Not because of all the expensive preparations and long-laid plans that wer
e suddenly wasted. It was because her heart had been cleaved in half at the tragic news her fiancé did not love her as she loved him.
“I’ve always loved you,” he said as if he’d been reading her mind. “I just got scared.” He stalked back inside the spacious villa, coming to a stop so close she could feel the warmth floating off him, smell the raw masculinity of a man who didn’t wear cologne. She had loved that about him.
She eased back and turned away. This was too close for comfort.
“Scared by what? That you could no longer pick up floozy women whenever you felt like it?” She hated that there was hurt in her voice they could both hear. She wanted him to think she didn’t care.
“I never cheated on you, Virginia. I haven’t even been on a date since—”
“Is that what this is about? You’re horny?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Well of course I am. But that’s not why I’m here.”
“Then why are you here, Thomas? What’s changed?”
“I was mugged.”
A pause hung in the air as she wrapped her mind around that.
“I was robbed at gunpoint at an ATM machine in Tremont.”
“My God.” As much as she wished his thick glossy hair would fall out and his perfectly straight teeth would turn yellow, she could never wish something so horrible on anyone, not even Thomas. She crossed her arms over her chest. “You seem to have come through it.”
“This guy was waving his gun in my face, and all I could see was you. I knew if I died at that moment, I would never have the future with you we were supposed to have.” He stepped closer yet. His hands found her hips, and he urged her to make the quarter turn that brought them face-to-face again. The gentle press of his fingertips sent her world off kilter.
“I’m here to change that, Ginny. I’m here to fix this terrible mess I’ve made of things and spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”
She breathed in the familiar scent of him and went careening back in time. She’d forgotten how wonderful his strong hands felt gliding over her. How her blood raced when she was pressed against him.
Love, Valentine Style Page 4