The greatest danger may lie in the firestorm burning between themWhen he finally did, the effect was seismic. Prim, proper, and utterly magnetic. Something primal flared to life inside him, and he was powerless against it. Calling her “The Ice Queen” didn’t help. Mocking was easier than admitting she'd gotten under his skin long before they even spoke.
When a fire ravages her business on the same night someone vandalizes her home, he wonders if the incidents are connected and searches for answers.
But someone wants to keep their secret buried.
Jenna shrieked and jumped up, toppling her chair and stumbling into someone behind her, who then collided with a waiter carrying a water pitcher, sending all three to the floor in a shower of ice-cold water.
She landed partially on top of the man, his arms around her waist as he bore the brunt of the fall. Another scream lodged in her throat when she saw it resting on her thigh.
Suddenly, his hand moved, and the spider vanished.
“You’re okay,” murmured a husky voice against her ear. “It’s gone. You’re okay.”
Laughter filtered through a fog of humiliation. She’d freaked out—in a public place and lay on the floor atop a total stranger while Oscar did nothing but watch, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
“Something wrong, Jenna?” he crooned.
“I t-t-told you I h-hate spiders.” Her body trembled, and she couldn’t control the quiver in her voice.
The man’s arms tightened slightly.
“Did you?” cooed Oscar. “I must have forgotten.”
***
Donovan couldn’t believe his eyes when he first saw Jenna McCray in person tonight. All prim and proper, like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, and his crazy heart raced like a runaway train.
She’d dominated his thoughts from the moment he saw her picture in the paper two weeks ago. Hell, he’d even cut the damn thing out and kept it in his desk. How pathetic was that?
Everything from her regal posture to how she sipped the wine screamed money and class. Coffee-colored hair pulled into a tight bun at the nape, and pearl studs in her ears emphasized the delicate bone structure of her face and the fullness of ruby-colored lips. The basic black dress and single strand of pearls would look simple on most women. On her, it was elegant.
When their gazes locked briefly, the jolt of desire was so potent it shocked him.
The returning look of interest stole his breath.
Every unexplained feeling he’d endured the last two weeks hit like a tidal wave. It took massive effort to walk calmly to his table.
Oscar's joining her was an unpleasant shock. The man was dirty as mud. Why on earth would a woman like her associate with him?
Thoughts in turmoil, he decided to skip dinner and leave—until all hell broke loose.
He’d never met anyone with arachnophobia, but judging by her reaction to a fake spider, she suffered an extreme case. As snickers from the other patrons registered, his protective instincts surged.
A shudder rolled through her body, and she sucked in a jerky breath, mumbling something he didn’t catch.
“It’s gone,” he whispered. “You’re okay.”
She made a move to stand, and he maneuvered to assist, one hand remaining on her arm for stability.
“I’m so sorry,” she muttered, avoiding eye contact and swiping at the water on her dress. “I’ll pay to have your clothes cleaned.”
Face flaming, she watched the waiter clean up the mess. “Oh, Alfred,” she asked. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Miss McCray.” He nodded toward Oscar’s retreating figure. “And he’s to blame—not you.”
Donovan lightly squeezed her arm. “Ma’am? Are you okay?”
She managed a shaky “I’m fine,” then swallowed. “Th-thank you. For helping me.”
Donovan clenched his teeth as his fantasy dreams went up in smoke. She couldn’t even look him in the eye when she mumbled insincere words of gratitude.
“Anytime.”
At his terse response, dark, earnest eyes, filled with confusion and something he couldn’t readily identify, whipped to his. Desire coursed through him, heady as strong whiskey, leaving him off-balance.
She frowned and retrieved a wallet from the bag on the table, pulled out a card and some bills, then passed the money to Alfred. “If this isn’t sufficient for my wine and the pitcher, please let me know.”
He hesitated, then took the money. “It’s fine, Miss McCray.”
A harried woman appeared from Donovan’s left. The manager—they’d met on a previous visit, but he couldn’t recall her name.
“Oh my God, Jenna. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Katie. Embarrassed but unhurt.” She nodded toward Donovan. “This gentleman broke my fall.” She nibbled her lower lip as though unsure of what to do next. Inhaling, she passed him the card. “Thank you, Mr…”
“Donovan.”
“Mr. Donovan. Please—”
“No mister. Just Donovan.”
Lips slightly parted, she hesitated. “Oh. Okay. Donovan. Please send me a bill for the dry cleaning.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Yes. It is.”
Cheeks the brightest red he’d ever seen, her earnest expression softened.
“Please.”
That one word curbed his resentment. He took the card, ignoring the tingle as their fingers brushed.
“Donovan,” said Katie. “Thank you for helping my friend.”
“No problem, ma’am.”
“And dinner’s on me tonight.”
“Actually, I was just leaving.”
She looked around. “Was something wrong with your table?”
He shook his head. “Unexpected change in plans. I was on my way out when—this happened.”
“Then please accept a raincheck for next time.”
He nodded, knowing he would never accept the offer, no matter how kindly extended.
Katie rubbed Jenna’s shoulder. “Guess kicking him to the curb in a public place wasn’t such a good idea after all, huh?”
Donovan barely covered his surprise. So that’s what happened—good for her.
Jenna’s gaze skipped from him to Katie. “No. It wasn’t.”
“I’ve never seen you react that way before.”
She glanced at Donovan. “I—it just surprised me. That’s all.”
He immediately recognized the lie. She wasn’t surprised. She was terrified.
“I told him they bothered me.”
And that’s the understatement of the century.
“And you’d already told him to back off,” added Katie, “so the creep had a Plan B to get even. I’m just happy you weren’t hurt.”
This time, when she looked at Donavan, her gaze held, and the intensity floored him. A dark chocolate brown enhanced by a golden ring around the edges, they glistened in the restaurant’s ambient lighting.
Or was it unshed tears?
Two hearts shattered by betrayal. Once chance to trust again.When Lexie meets his four-year-old daughter, Katie, the timid child with downcast eyes steals her heart.
Forced to rely on Jake’s assistance, it’s impossible to ignore the escalating pull.
But the past never dies, and resurrected hurts threaten their fragile bond.
Multi-awarding winning author Dana Wayne is a sixth-generation Texan and still resides in the Piney Woods. She routinely speaks at book clubs, writers’ groups and other organizations and is a frequent guest on numerous writing blogs. A die-hard romantic, her stories are filled with strong women, second chances, and happily ever after. “I’m all about the romance, so my tales are heartwarming, have a splash of suspense and humor. While they are a little steamy, I believe romance is more about emotion than sex, and the journey is more important than the destination.
“I retired in late 2013 and published my first book in 2016. I was over the moon when it was awarded first place in a contest through the Texas Association of Authors, and I never looked back. My books have been nominated for and/or received various awards and numerous five-star reviews. To have my work validated in such a manner is very gratifying and humbling.”
Affiliations include Texas Association of Authors, Writers League of Texas, East Texas Writers Guild, Northeast Texas Writers Organization, and East Texas Writers Association.
Click Here for the list!
No comments :
Post a Comment
PLEASE NOTE: I do not moderate comments, but some go to Spam anyway. Rest assured, I check regularly and will publish non-Spam comments shortly!