When business becomes pleasure
Although they’ve never met, Davia Sands knows all about Kale Asante’s reputation for doing whatever it takes to close a deal. Now a mysterious inheritance is about to turn the longtime business rivals into reluctant partners. The only thing more combustible than their fiercely competitive spirits is the sizzling attraction that ignites the minute Davia lays eyes on the irresistible industrialist.
Snapping up unique properties has made Kale a superstar in the world of international development. But he’s driven by a sense of fairness when he and Davia discover that only one of them is the rightful owner of the Iowa movie theater they both covet. As they search for answers in the small town’s quaint past, severe wintry conditions trap Kale and Davia in close quarters. Will giving in to their big-screen fantasies lead to real heartbreak? Or culminate in a lifetime of pleasure?
“Wanna come in?”
“I can’t.” She wanted to, though. Oh, how she wanted to. “I, um...I only came to thank you.”
“And of course staying in the hall is the only way you can do that properly?”
Ignoring the suggestion in his words, she smiled. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to thank you for putting me to bed. I guess I must’ve dozed off on the sofa.”
“We both did.” He leaned on the door again. “Guess the day was longer than we realized.”
Davia nodded. “Well, I’ll let you get back to sleep.”
“Are you serious?” Though he didn’t explain his comment, she saw it his eyes. He was awake now. And feasting on the sight of her. He rose to his full height and gave her a curious smile before opening the door wider. “Come in, Davia.”
Again, her hazel gaze fell to his chest. Creamy brown, sleek and broad, it called out to her and she could almost feel her fingertips tingle from their desire to crawl across it.
“Kale, I can’t.”
Dear Reader,
Thanks bunches for diving into my latest Kimani Romance title. If you follow me on social media then you know I’m a serious movie fanatic! You could say that Silver Screen Romance is somewhat of a testament to the movie lover in me—toss in our stunning hero Kale Asante and I’m...well...in love.
The unexpected attraction between Kale and our heroine, Davia Sands, offers romance, mystery and another of my faves—winter weather. Yeah, I know that snow can be a pain but Kale and Davia find lots to do in the sleepy Midwestern town where they’ve inherited, of all things, a movie theater. I crafted Silver Screen Romance while imagining you curled up with your favorite hot beverage and peeking into the lives of this gorgeous, sexy couple. Here’s hoping the steam is to your liking.
Email your thoughts to [email protected].
Love,
Al
AlTonya Washington
AlTonya Washington has been a romance novelist for over eleven years. She’s been nominated for numerous awards and has won two RT Reviewers’ Choice Awards for her novels Finding Love Again and His Texas Touch. AlTonya lives in North Carolina and works as a college reference librarian. This author wears many hats, but being a mom is her favorite job.
Books by AlTonya Washington
Harlequin Kimani Romance
As Good as the First Time
Every Chance I Get
Private Melody
Pleasure After Hours
Texas Love Song
His Texas Touch
Provocative Territory
Provocative Passion
Trust In Us
Indulge Me Tonight
Embrace My Heart
Treasure My Heart
Provocative Attraction
Silver Screen Romance
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For those who enjoy their love stories in print and...on-screen.
Contents
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
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Excerpt from Road to Temptation by Terra Little
Chapter 1
Miami, Florida
“Where?” A hint of laughter mingled with the element of sincere bewilderment in Kale Asante’s question. His voice was rich, its tone possessing a warmth that was equally displayed in his liquid-chocolate gaze.
Kale’s lawyer, Felton Eames, looked to be on the verge of laughter himself. “Mullins, Iowa,” Felton said once he’d spared a second glance toward the documents in front of him. The sheet was one of several spilling from the charcoal-gray briefcase lying open on the black-walnut coffee table in his client’s den.
Kale appeared to be considering the information while he rubbed the tip of an index finger across the long line of one sleek brow. Amusement came through that time in the form of a chuckle before more words followed. “I honestly can’t recall ever visiting the place or knowing anyone who has.”
Felton nodded while rubbing his fingers through the cap of salt-and-pepper waves covering his head. “I didn’t think you had,” he sighed. He grabbed another of the documents that languished over the open edge of his case and passed it to Kale. “But it looks like your late uncle did.”
San Francisco, California
“Where?” Intrigue was the resulting emotion when Davia Sands heard the name Mullins, Iowa. Her clear, hazel eyes sparkled more effervescently than normal while she observed her business attorney.
Bess Gaither merely continued to swivel in the burgundy scoop chair she occupied, smiling over her client’s reaction.
Davia turned her bright, wide stare toward the document that outlined the news Bess had come to deliver that afternoon. “How could I own land in Iowa and not know about it?” Unmistakable bewilderment had her voice in its clutches.
Bess ceased her swiveling and left the chair to top off her coffee at the bar cart on the deck where she and Davia conversed. Though the day had been a surprisingly comfortable one and rich, late-afternoon sunlight doused the deck, a chill still carried on the early January wind.
“Specifically speaking...” Bess said, pausing as if to add a dramatic flair while she filled her coffee mug to the brim with the aromatic blend. “You don’t own land, but a building. Or, from what I understand, what’s left of one.”
“Okay...” Davia rebundled herself into the afghan that helped the sweatpants and long-sleeved tee keep her warm against the breezy day. “So how’d I come to own a building—or what’s left of one?”
“Seems you’ve got Miss Glory to thank for that.” Bess used the smug manner she put in place whenever she was about to eviscerate or merely stun someone at a negotiating table.
Davia sat a little straighter on the lounge she occupied. Bewilderment had her expression in its clutches that time. “What’s my late aunt got to do with—” she checked the document ag
ain “—Mullins, Iowa?”
Bess prepped her coffee, adding sugar and cream to suit her taste. “If you bother to actually read that page I gave you, you’ll see that Miss Glory spent quite a bit of time there during the early forties. She inherited the building from a Chase Waverly when he passed away in 1956.”
Davia regarded the sheet in hand with greater interest. “That can’t be right.” Her voice held a quiet, considering tone, as though she were attempting to convince herself. “I’ve never heard anything about this. I don’t think even my mom and dad know.”
Gloria Sands was the older sister of Davia’s father. The woman had been Davia’s favorite relative across the whole of either of her parents’ extremely large families.
“A woman’s life is a trove of secrets.” Bess’s sigh held the unmistakable air of playful mystery. She gave a theatrical twirl away from the bar cart with her steaming mug of coffee still firm in her grip.
“What sort of mystery could my aunt have been involved in in Iowa?”
Bess inhaled the fragrant steam drifting off the mug. “Guess you’ll find out on Wednesday.”
“What’s Wednesday?” Davia’s tone was absent at best. She was still aptly reviewing the document Bess had provided.
“The day you meet with the Mullins town council.”
Davia dragged her eyes up from the page and simply gaped at her lawyer.
* * *
“Are you serious?” Kale pinned his lawyer with an unwavering look and could see all too clearly that the man was completely not joking. “What the hell do I have to meet with the town council for?”
Felton rested his elbows on his knees and conducted a mini thumb war between them. “Seems that after over sixty years the town of Mullins has finally had enough of looking at that piece of land you’ve come into. They find it to be an eyesore that’s driving down the property value in that area of town. That,” Felton said and brought an end to the thumb war, “and there’s talk of a developer wanting the land to put some overpriced artsy shops on.”
Felton spread his hands and shrugged. “The town is calling this its good-faith effort at reaching out to the rightful owners. I think everyone who had a hand in this was all pretty surprised that there were any. At least, they acted surprised. I can’t get a straight answer on how it was overlooked that your uncle and Ms. Sands inherited this property over two decades ago.”
Kale rubbed at his head, crowned by a crop of light brown waves. “You got any info on that place? Demographics? Economic info?”
Felton’s tanned, hard-lined face softened with an easy smile. “I know what you’re getting at and the answer is no. Mullins wouldn’t be suited to any of the kinds of projects you like to sink your teeth into.”
Kale gave his lawyer a begrudging look. “It’s good to know you’re worth what I pay you.” He shook his head while softly laughing before somberness took hold of his voice and expression. “We should see if there’s any truth to this rumor of a developer. If so, I want to find him and make an offer. Unload the property while I can.”
“Kale—”
“If the developer’s a myth, find out who I need to make an offer to in Mullins. I’m pretty sure my uncle wouldn’t have minded.”
“Kale. You can’t do that, man.”
It was rare that Kale heard those words directed at him. While he’d been raised to be humble and appreciative, it was at times difficult to express those qualities. So often, the very nature of his business made the showcasing of such qualities...unnecessary.
At any rate, Kale worked to be a fair-dealing, fair-minded kind of guy. A successful industrialist didn’t become a successful industrialist without earning a respected name.
Still, in spite of all that fairness, humbleness and appreciativeness, Kale struggled with—hell, he despised—being told that he couldn’t do something. In all honesty, he was doing his best to work on that.
Kale could tell from the look on his attorney’s face that the man was getting a kick out of witnessing him in the throes of dealing with that which he despised. Determinedly, he put in place a patient air that was quite obviously a fake.
“So why can’t I do that?” Kale approved of how level his voice sounded.
Felton nodded toward the page he’d given his client. “You own the land. Someone else owns what’s built on it.”
* * *
“Okay, just so we’re clear, are you laughing because this is good news or because you’re pissed? I can never tell with you.”
Davia left her lounge, dregs of laughter still tumbling past the perfect bow that was her mouth. “For future reference, this is my pissed laugh,” she told Bess.
Bess nodded as though she were mentally filing away the information. “Does that mean you know Kale Asante?”
“Know of him.” The words felt like grit on Davia’s tongue. She persevered to deliver more explanation as she went inside.
“The land development world is a small one, once you reach a certain level.” Davia studied the view of the bay from her desk, hoping its calming effects would drench her. “Kale Asante’s name has its own penthouse address there.”
Davia hated the pinched tone she heard in her voice. She wasn’t exactly jealous of Kale Asante’s accomplishments. After all, her name held residence along the same address strip as Kale’s, if for different expertise.
As a cultivator of undervalued properties, Davia had been schooled in the art of recognizing diamonds in the rough from an early age. A product of her aunt’s tutelage, Davia had become a force in the realm of quaint movie theaters. Truth be told, she and Kale Asante orbited different quadrants of the same hemisphere.
There had only been one time when those quadrants had intersected. Regrettably, it had been time enough for Davia to form a none-too-complimentary impression of the well-known industrialist.
* * *
“Of course you know her,” Felton drawled, completely unsurprised as he repacked his briefcase.
“I know of her,” Kale clarified with an easy grin. “I’ve never met her. What?” he queried. Something in Felton’s resulting chuckle had him very curious.
Felton shuffled through his case again and took from it a black folder that he handed to his client.
A long, low whistle drifted past the beckoning curve of Kale’s mouth when he saw the 8x10 color glossy inside. “You are definitely worth every cent I pay you,” he said, his gaze repeatedly scanning the photo that captured the woman’s image from head to toe.
“This is very true.” Felton raised a hand. “Kale Asante, meet Davia Sands.”
Kale understood the man’s amusement. The fact that he of all people had never met the woman in the photo was wrong in so many ways.
“Can’t believe you never bothered to find out what she looked like,” Felton noted absently once he returned to packing his case.
Kale’s deep-set dark brown eyes scanned Davia’s image again. “Our last...interaction wasn’t under the friendliest circumstances,” he said. “It was a rather abstract interaction at best.”
“Business is rarely friendly, my man.” Felton smiled through a grimace.
“Mmm.” Kale took another moment to skim the additional information in the folder before he closed it. “That’s especially true when your adversary thinks you cheated a client to close the deal before she died.”
Felton sealed his case as he looked up at Kale. “Martella Friedman.”
Nodding, Kale shut the folder but set it on an end table instead of returning it to his lawyer.
“Davia Sands was in the running for the theater that inspired the lobby for my last multiplex. Seems I bought it right out from under her.”
Groaning, Felton flopped back against the black suede sofa he occupied and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “So...Davia Sands
hates your guts and you’re now fifty-fifty owners of an inherited property.”
Kale settled against the back of an opposing sofa. Folding his arms over a well-defined chest, he appreciated the view of the Atlantic beyond his balcony. “That about sums it up.” He sighed.
“So, should I tell Sully to get the jet gassed up for Iowa?” Felton asked, still massaging his eyes.
Kale took the black folder from the end table, thumbed through it again. “Actually...I’ve got another stop in mind.”
Chapter 2
“So, how about we set the meeting with Sorrells and his guys for the twenty-sixth? Yeah, I’m not thrilled about it, either, but I may be out of town for the next few days, maybe longer...” Davia frowned over the contents of a folder as she entered the lobby in reading mode. Meanwhile, her crew chief’s voice filled the earpiece of the headset she sported.
Davia smiled, having caught her receptionist’s frantic wave across the room. Laughing softly, she turned her focus back to her call with Curtis Wilkes.
“Curt? I need to go, but I’ll be in touch before I leave. Hopefully by then I’ll have more details about this trip.”
Davia took another minute to wrap up the call with Curtis. Her receptionist was almost out of her chair as she waved toward the bank of windows overlooking the famed Golden Gate Bridge in the distance.
“Leslie, what is it?”
“Davia, it’s Kale Asante.”
Davia allowed uncharacteristic surprise to illuminate her face as she stepped forward to greet the man who, until that time, she’d only seen via camera stills and promotional photos. She was offering her hand to accept his shake when he began to speak.
“Ms. Sands, it’s a pleasure.”
“Same,” Davia sighed, a little pleased she’d been able to respond. He had, without argument, taken her completely off guard.
“I know we don’t have an appointment,” Kale was saying, “but I’d appreciate you making time to see me.”
Davia managed a nod, still somewhat off-kilter by the man’s unexpected arrival. Absently, she tugged off her headpiece and caused her boyishly cropped locks to fall in disarray around her dark, fine-boned face.
Silver Screen Romance Page 1