Hot, Sexy & Bad

by Angelo, Judy, et al.

  Elle wanted to speak, but she couldn’t. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she looked at the man in front of her. He was everything she had wished for and he loved her. She nodded her head and swallowed hard, finally managing to say, “Oh, Drake. This is the most wonderful Christmas gift I’ve ever received.” Elle looked up at him; they were beginning something special.

  Drake slipped the necklace around her neck and fastened it. He wrapped his arms around her tightly. “I love you, Elle,” he whispered reverently to her.

  “Oh, Drake. I love you, too.”

  Drake kissed her cheek and then the tip of her nose before placing his lips on hers. She ran her fingers through his hair and he pulled her tight against him. He had never been happier than when he knew with a certainty he would find the owner of the phone.

  It had been almost eleven at night when he’d finally hacked Elle’s phone and had found her mother’s number, confirming it was Elle he had been with. He’d called and told Mrs. Simpson what had happened. It had been her mother who’d suggested surprising her the next morning.

  He’d hung up the phone and had found his mother standing behind him with a huge smile on her face. “You’ve found love after all these years, haven’t you?” No matter the size of the house, a mother always knows when something is up. Drake had just smiled and his mother pulled him down for a hug. “If you’ve finally found love, don’t let her get away.” That was when the plan had been hatched.

  Drake had called the father of one of the children at the hospital and had asked for a favor. Drake had met him at his downtown jewelry shop just after midnight and stared in amazement at the harp. Her nickname fit her and he had been drawn to her father’s story as if it were his own. He had known that night that he would go through hell to find her again, just as the myth of Lyra had told. Drake had also brought a few presents for the man's kids in appreciation for his cooperation so early on Christmas morning. In just under an hour, Drake had been armed with a necklace that had sat waiting until morning.

  As he’d hurried to his car that morning, his parents had raced after him. “We’ll stay in the car until you come get us. But we have to meet the woman who stole my Huggy Bear’s heart,” his mother had shouted. So Drake had let them come and ended up telling them all about Elle as he’d driven to Mrs. Simpson’s house.

  The kiss he had begun moments ago quickly heated up before he was hit in the head with a pair of fuzzy dice. Looking up, he saw her brother smiling and her mother and sisters hugging each other with tears in their eyes. Drake laughed but didn’t move from where he held her close. “My parents . . . I forgot. They’re waiting out in the car.”

  “You left your parents in the car?” Elle tried to scramble up, but he wouldn’t let her.

  “Sorry, sweetheart, you’re not leaving my side yet. I’m still afraid you’ll disappear again.” He didn’t plan to let her go far from his side for a very long time.

  “I’ll get them,” Margaret said as she dried her tears. “Oh, congratulations, you two. My husband and I couldn’t have picked anyone better to love our Elle.” Drake stood with Elle and hugged her mother before she hurried outside. Elle’s sisters and brother similarly hugged and shook hands with Drake. The warm family welcome let him know they cared for each other very much.

  “Nice bunny slippers. Very sexy,” Drake said once the introductions were over. He caught her looking down in embarrassment at her bunny-clad feet. Somehow she looked even more beautiful this morning in nothing more than pajamas and slippers instead of the gown and heels from the night before. Her face, completely free of makeup, glowed with happiness, and her hair, slightly messed from sleep, reminded him of what he wanted to do with her in bed as soon as possible.

  The front door was thrown open as Margaret and his parents hurried inside looking like the best of friends.

  Elle loved his parents and felt welcomed into his family instantly. The mothers shooed everyone out of the kitchen and made breakfast while Drake and his father entertained them with stories. They encouraged her sisters and brother to tell their own. Allegra and Bree, who were not normally so relaxed with new people, were delighting the group with stories of disgruntled models and construction site high jinks. Reid had them laughing with silly cheating scandals from his casinos.

  Elle sat tucked under Drake's arm with her hand on his thigh and smiled. She’d found her happily-ever-after and she couldn’t wait to see what came next.

  Soon the house was filled with merriment and laughter as Christmas Day celebrations continued. Off in the distance, bells were ringing and Elle thought she heard someone bellow, “Ho-Ho-Ho, Merry Christmas!”

  ###

  Dear readers,

  Thank you so much for your support over the past two years. I hope you've enjoyed this new storyline beginning with Elle and Drake. This novella has been a sneak peek into the new novel, Chosen for Power. Chosen for Power is the first book in the Women of Power series and will hopefully be released in April of 2014.

  Happy Reading!

  Kathleen Brooks

  Other Books by Kathleen Brooks

  Bluegrass Series

  Bluegrass State of Mind

  Risky Shot

  Dead Heat

  Bluegrass Brothers Series

  Bluegrass Undercover

  Rising Storm

  Secret Santa, A Bluegrass Series Novella

  Acquiring Trouble

  Relentless Pursuit

  Secrets Collide

  Final Vow - coming January of 2014

  Women of Power Series

  Dancing Beneath the Mistletoe, A Women of Power Novella

  About the Author

  Kathleen Brooks is the bestselling author of the Bluegrass Series. She has garnered attention as a new voice in romance with a warm Southern feel. Her books feature quirky small town characters you’ll feel like you’ve known forever, romance, humor, and mystery all mixed into one perfect glass of sweet tea.

  Kathleen is an animal lover who supports rescue organizations and other non-profit organizations whose goals are to protect and save our four-legged family members.

  Kathleen lives in Central Kentucky with her husband, daughter, two dogs, and a cat who thinks he’s a dog. She loves to hear from readers and can be reached at Kathleen@Kathleen-Brooks.com.

  Check out the Website for updates on all of Kathleen's series. You can also “Like” Kathleen on Facebook and follow her on Twitter @BluegrassBrooks.

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  Recipe For Love:

  An Andrade Christmas Novella

  Ruth Cardello

  Recipe For Love

  An Andrade Christmas Novella

  Copyright 2013 Ruth Cardello

  All Rights Reserved

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, events, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental.

  New York Times Best Seller Ruth Cardello’s

  Recipe For Love:

  An Andrade Christmas Novella

  Before Abby met Dominic. Before Nicole and Stephan got back together. Confessed secrets drove Madison Andrade away from her family and into the arms of an arrogant, lusty Frenchman. All she wants for Christmas is a place to hide, but she cooks up much more than that in their short time together.

  Richard D’Argenson is gaining fame for his talent in the kitchen, but he’s missing the most important ingredient to any recipe—love.

  Will he find it in the steamy night they spend together, and can what they share survive an Andrade Christmas invasion?

  Table of Contents for Recipe For Love

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six


  Chapter One

  If you have to run away, run somewhere wonderful.

  Madison Andrade paused to appreciate the beauty of the narrow, cobblestoned street of the southern France provincial town. Medieval stone arches accented the shaded passageway between century-old buildings. The shops were decorated for the holiday season with garland and lights. She stopped in front of the window of a boulangerie with a festive display of Galette des Rois, or Three Kings Cake, which were adorned with gold paper crowns. If she were visiting the area for any other reason, she would have purchased one and laughed with her friends or family as they each tried to find the hidden bean in the pastry that would award one of them the title of royalty for the day.

  No parties on this trip.

  Tucking her hands into the pockets of her double-breasted, red wool jacket, Maddy fought off a chill that had nothing to do with the mild temperature. One rebellious chestnut curl repeatedly escaped her attempts to tuck it back into her ponytail and flew wild and free in the wind.

  A bit like me. A week ago she’d told the pilot of the private jet she’d received for college graduation, “Take me somewhere different, somewhere quiet where no one knows me.” He’d chosen the Provence area around Sablet: a small village he said was famous for its local vineyards.

  I don’t drink wine.

  But I guess that’s okay, since I don’t speak French either.

  In true American second-generation-style, she barely even spoke Italian—a fact her parents, who made the trip back to the old country several times a year, lamented frequently. Her father, Alessandro, may have made a fortune in the technology industry, but he maintained a traditional home life. Her mother, Elise, was a warmhearted, pasta-loving woman with an easy laugh and quick wit. Along with her Uncle Vic, the two had helped a large number of their family relocate to the United States, and the entire clan gathered frequently at their mansion near New York City.

  The perfect life until she asked her father how he became so successful, and he told her a secret—a truth she couldn’t accept.

  “We should be heading to the airport,” her six foot five wall of a limo driver, Gino, said in a tone that revealed his impatience with her decision to get out and walk the narrow roads. In his late forties, he’d been her driver and bodyguard since grade school. She didn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been by her side. “Your father told me to have you home by Christmas.”

  “I’m not going back,” Maddy had snapped, then regretted the action. It wasn’t fair to Gino to put him in the middle. It wasn’t his fault she was crumbling on the inside. More softly, she said, “I can’t.” Just the thought of doing so filled her with a sudden nausea.

  “You sound tired. Did you have breakfast?”

  “Gino, I’m not a child.”

  He shrugged dismissively, just as her father would have, at the comment. Although they were not technically related, he was a second cousin twice removed and that made him family. According to her father’s definition, half of Italy fit those criteria. The Andrades were known for their generosity and loyalty. They took care of their own and the people who worked for them. Under their protection, widows didn’t lose their homes. People got what they needed. Even without a shared bloodline, long-term employees became family and, as her father always said, “To an Andrade, family is everything.”

  It was a beautiful philosophy and at the end of the day—bullshit.

  “You have to tell Stephan,” she’d pleaded to her father.

  “No,” her father had said firmly, his belief that his brother had done nothing wrong obvious in the finality of his tone. Because he knew her too well, he’d warned, “And you won’t either.”

  She’d grown up in a family of strong men, but her mother had always encouraged her to stand up for herself. In business, the Andrade men held positions of power and influence. In the home, her father would move heaven and earth to make his wife happy. And he was the same with his only daughter. At least he always had been, until they’d found themselves with distinctly different opinions of what was right. “You want me to lie?”

  “I want you to say nothing.”

  “Then why tell me? Is this a test? Because it’s one I’m going to fail. I can’t sit back and watch Stephan live his life based on lies. I don’t understand how you can.”

  “I see now that I shouldn’t have told you the truth. Stephan was throwing his life away. Victor did what he felt he had to do.”

  “What if Stephan loved Nicole? What if he still does?”

  “It’s done, Maddy. Telling him now would only cause trouble in the family.”

  “Are you afraid he’ll walk away if he finds out the truth? Andrade Global will no longer be important to him? Is this about money?”

  Family is everything, unless they stand in the way of making a buck—then watch out.

  Her father hadn’t been one to raise his voice in his home, but he’d lost patience with her then and had. “I love Stephan like he is my own son. He needed a reason to grow up and Victor gave him one. The world is not a perfect place. People do what is necessary to protect their families. I don’t judge Victor for the choice he made.”

  Toe to toe, father and daughter had glared at each other. “Of course not, you benefited from it.”

  “That’s enough, Maddy. This conversation is over.” Her father’s face had held an angry red flush, but his tone had attempted to soothe her. “Your mother wanted to take you shopping with her today. You know how she likes to buy for all the children at the office. Go with her, perhaps it’ll help you remember what’s important.”

  “Money?”

  With a sad shake of his head, he’d held her eyes before he’d left her room, saying, “Family.” He’d closed the door firmly.

  Gino’s questions pulled her back into the present. “What’s bothering you, Maddy? Why are we here?”

  The genuine concern in his voice made her wish she could tell him, but she couldn’t. “I’d like to be alone, Gino. It’s the middle of the day. This is a small town. No one knows who I am. It’s safe.”

  “That’s not your decision to make.”

  It should be.

  From now on, it will be. “I am going for a walk by myself. I intend to have a quiet meal, alone, in one of these restaurants. I’ll call you when I’m finished. There is no need to rush because I’m staying at the hotel again tonight.”

  “Your father—”

  “Also needs to give me some space and he knows it. Call him if you want, but I already told him that I’m not going home yet. Not tomorrow, not for the holidays.” Maybe not ever.

  “Mio trottolina you know how hurt he will be if you do this.”

  Like her father, Gino would never see her as more than a child, and it rankled her. “Trust me, the biggest gift I can give him is to stay away from him, from all of them.” Meeting her protector’s eyes squarely, Maddy spoke from her heart. “I know it’s your job to keep me safe, but I need this. I need some time to think. I’ve spent my whole life following your advice without complaint—”

  Gino’s eyebrows rose to meet his hairline in disbelief.

  “Most of the time,” Maddy corrected. When Gino’s expression did not change she added, “Come on, I’ve gotten better with age. I may have resented how you curtailed my social life in high school, but that’s ancient history.” She considered apologizing again, but decided it was better to focus on the present. “I’m twenty-three. If I want a few hours on my own, I should be able to have them.”

  After a long, assessing look, Gino nodded and replaced his sunglasses. He said, “I’ll be in the limo when you’re ready. Call me if you need me.” He gave the breast pocket of his dark suit a tap, referring to the cell phone she knew he kept there.

  Maddy nodded and forced a grateful smile that seemed to reassure him. He turned and strode off, back down the way they’d come.

  She hadn’t made it very far when a light, cold rain started and she ducked into a small shop.

&
nbsp; “Bonjour, Mademoiselle,” the petite woman behind a small table called out. She was chicly dressed in a vintage Chanel tweed dress suit with a black braided trim that added a young playfulness to the otherwise austere profile.

  “Bonjour,” Maddy said with an apologetic smile. “I don’t speak French.”

  “No problem. Can I help you?” The shopkeeper, who appeared to be in her mid-twenties, instantly switched to English.

  Can you stop the questions that are swirling through my head? Can you tell me what to do?

  Tucking her errant curl behind her ear again, Maddy said, “I don’t think so. I just needed a moment out of the rain.” And a moment out of my life. She blinked back tears of confusion.

  “Mon Dieu, you’re wet. Well, you came into the right place. Plenty of dry clothes to choose from here.” She called instructions across the shop to someone in the back room. Then, in English, she said, “Fran will make some coffee. You look like you could use some.”

  Looking around the shop quickly, Maddy saw the racks of retro clothing for the first time. Her mother would have loved the shop. Although most of their clothing was tailor-made for them, they’d spent many Saturdays hunting rare designer vintage outfits. “Thank you, I would love some.”

  The woman cleared the table she’d been folding clothing on and covered it with a small white linen cloth. “Come, sit.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to . . .” Maddy started to say, but the woman was already placing silverware and napkins beside plates.

  “I don’t have many chances to practice my English. Please.”