by J. L. Saint
“I’ve got all I want right here.”
“Me too. I know a few charities that could use it.”
“And I know a man who can make that happen without the government getting their Jockey’s in a wad.
“Good.”
He touched the cuffs and gave her a wicked smile. “Care to take me prisoner?”
She latched her arms around his neck, using the cuffs to make him captive. “Only if you kiss me like there is no tomorrow.”
He did, but tomorrow still came.
0630 August 30th
“It’s tomorrow!” Matt yelled. Lauren cracked an eye open.
“It’s tomorrow! Mitch yelled. Lauren groaned and shut her eye.
“It’s tomorrow.” Jack slid a cup of steamy coffee beneath her nose. “And guess what that means?”
Lauren squinted at Jack. He appeared as if he’d already shaved and dressed. They were back at the Inn with adjoining rooms.
“The beach. The beach. The beach. The beach!” The boys jumped up and down on the other bed.
Lauren bit her tongue and let them have a minute of forbidden fun. They’d been through so much.
“The beach.” Jack agreed with the boys. Then he bent down and whispered in her ear. “And I get to kiss you like there is no tomorrow all over again, but this time I’m going to kiss you all over.”
Lauren squirmed under the blankets already feeling him everywhere.
Damn, Jack thought as he stood and walked across the room to alleviate the painful tightness in his jeans. Having little ones around was going to keep him on the painful edge of hungry all the time and he couldn’t wait. Bring it on, he thought. There were times when delayed gratification gave tremendous rewards and Lauren was the best prize of all. He smiled at the boys’ enthusiasm.
They reminded him of Livy this morning. He’d called her and arranged for her to meet them at the beach for the Labor Day weekend. Now all he had to do was email Bear Grylls and see if he could drop in before his next assignment. The survivalist was stateside, slotted to do a Man Versus Wild special in the swamp. The man was insane to take on gator-infested waters.
In one way or another Jack realized that everyone experienced collateral damage from the fallout of life. What determined the result was all in how a person viewed themselves and conquered the obstacles. He hadn’t done a very good job of it before Lauren. That had changed and was going to keep changing. Yeah, he was shorter of breath. Yeah, he was one day closer to death. But life was full. Life was good. And that was all that mattered.
About the Author
J.L. Saint is the pseudonym for USA Today Bestselling Author Jennifer St. Giles. She is a nurse and mother of three. She has won a number of awards for writing excellence including, two National Reader’s Choice Awards, two time Maggie Award Winner, Daphne du Maurier Award winner, Romance Writers’ of America’s Golden Heart Award, along with RT Book Club’s Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best Gothic/Mystery. Website: jenniferstgiles.com jlsaint.com Books: The Mistress of Trevelyan 8/04, His Dark Desires 11/05, Touch A Dark Wolf 9/06, The Lure of the Wolf 7/07, Kiss of Darkness 4/09, Bride of the Wolf 5/09. Point of No Return: Mammoth Book of Vampire Romances Book 2 9/09. Collateral Damage 12/10, Midnight Secrets re-release 4/11, Darkest Dreams re-release 8/11, Silken Shadows re-release 12/11.
Author’s Note: This book is a work of fiction and I apologize for any factual errors. This story is not meant to be a negative reflection upon any of the organizations, religions, or institutions depicted in the novel. The world is not perfect. The world is not black and white. No one side is completely right or completely wrong and never will be. What we must guard against is the world becoming so polarized that rational thought becomes impossible and people become blinded by their individual realities to the point that they lose sight of the precious humanity that unites us all, a dangerous precipice upon which evil flourishes. At its heart this book is about heroes in the world that choose good over evil and fight for freedom for everyone.
I want to thank my editor, Tera, for her unfailing patience, Samhain Publishing for taking a chance on this story, and to thank everyone who made writing this book possible during a very difficult time. My appreciation to Greg Leiker for setting a few facts straight and helping me get the plot ball rolling and to Diane Perkins for our Lady Jane’s Salon discussion in New York. Normally, I would insert a long and beloved list of family, friends, and forever writing buds here—but you know who you are. Your unfailing support and love means everything to me.
Loving him could be an adventure that gets her killed.
Defy the World Tomatoes
© 2010 Phoebe Conn
Darcy MacLeod’s Army brat childhood drives her to sink roots as deep as the plants with which she works. As part owner of a nursery/gift shop in Monarch Bay, she’s well on her way to her dream. Though she’s haunted by the lingering fear that her one chance for true love has come and gone.
When Griffin Moore asks her to landscape his sumptuous new estate, she’s entranced by the internationally renowned pianist’s air of mystery. Yet as she is inexorably drawn into his bed, her instincts tell her that secrets lurk behind his sophisticated mask.
With her carelessly styled hair, grubby overalls, and hands that see more dirt than an earthworm, Griffin finds Darcy a refreshing ray of light in his shadowy world. His globe-trotting concert schedule makes him the perfect Interpol informant—and makes a permanent relationship too dangerous to risk.
Their passion rivals the music of the great classical masters, but even as Darcy dips a toe into Griffin’s extravagant world, darkness reaches out to strike a dangerous chord. And Darcy must fight to keep her second chance at love—and her lover—alive.
Warning: Contains meddling friends, high adventure, down and dirty sex, and a couple who make beautiful music together—in bed and out.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Defy the World Tomatoes:
Griffin waited for Darcy in his driveway. “I don’t mean to shock you, but unlike most men, I actually enjoy reading directions. Let’s go on out to the terrace. I’ll read the notes with the diagrams, and you can assemble the kite. It’s shaped like a dragon with a long, notched tail. It’s very colorful. I hope you like it.”
“It’s your kite,” Darcy reminded him, but when he pulled it out of the package, she couldn’t help but be impressed. “Start reading, I want to see this thing in the air.”
“First we have to unroll it.”
“All right, I’ll hold the tip of the tail while you walk backwards, and that ought to do it.”
“Hey, I thought I was giving the directions here.”
“Sorry. I’ll keep my mouth shut,” Darcy promised.
“Well, not all the time, I hope.” Griffin soon had the dragon stretched out across the terrace. He checked the directions again and sorted through the accompanying dowels. “These go in the head and wings. Do you see the slots that hold them?”
“Slots?” The dragon was red and breathing orange flames. Darcy felt along the sides. “They’ve got to be here somewhere. This is your kite, after all. Why don’t I read the directions while you attach the dowels?”
“Don’t complicate things. Just get busy.”
Darcy raised a hand. “Let me see that diagram.”
Griffin stepped beyond her reach and hid it behind his back. “Come and get it.”
“No way. You’re the one who wants to build the kite, remember?”
“An excellent point.” Giving in, Griffin knelt beside her. “Maybe they didn’t sew this one together correctly at the factory.”
He was mere inches away and studying the kite’s construction rather than tormenting her. His lashes made shadows on his cheeks, and he was quite appealing when he was in a playful mood, but none of it seemed real to her. It was all just a trick, and he probably wouldn’t stop until he’d convinced her that she actually wanted to move Defy the World clear out of town.
Then she grew curious. “Why do you need
a recording studio if you’ve stopped rehearsing?”
“Later. Here we are, the slots open on the other side. Hand me the first dowel.”
Darcy slapped it into his hand. “Tell me.”
“Let’s get the kite in the air first.” Griffin slid in the dowels, then attached the string. He stood and shook out the kite, then looked up at the cloudless sky.
“Is there some trick to getting this thing in the air?” he asked.
“You’ve never flown a kite?” Darcy stood and moved out of his way.
“I began playing the piano at five and just looked up a couple of months ago. There’s a whole lot I’ve missed, including the art of kite flying.”
Darcy didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but she imagined he must have been a very serious little boy indeed. “You need to run while you let out the string, and the wind will carry it aloft for you.”
Griffin looked around to judge the distance. “If I stay on the terrace, I shouldn’t be in any danger of falling off the bluff.”
“Go for it,” Darcy encouraged. She watched him cross the terrace in an easy lope and when he turned back into the breeze, the kite bounced upward. “That’s it, just let out the string.”
Griffin fumbled with the reel, then caught it and laughed when the kite rose steadily into the air. The wind whipped the dragon’s long tail and serrated wings, pushing it higher. “Wow, it looks like a real dragon, doesn’t it?” he shouted.
“It sure does. Now just move back a little and keep letting out more string.” She raised her hand to shade her eyes, then walked across the terrace to where she could observe Griffin as well as the brightly colored kite.
She remembered the kids who had played in the high school band as being rather nerdy. Not that she’d been Miss Popularity, but at least she hadn’t always had her nose in a book. With Griffin’s looks, no one would have ever called him a nerd, but it saddened her to think he must have missed out on a lot of the fun of growing up.
“Is this all there is to it?” he asked.
“Not really. The wind can shift and send a kite right into the ground, or into a tree. The power lines are buried underground up here, but usually they pose a threat too. Then, if there are others flying kites, your string can become tangled in theirs and send both kites plunging to earth.
“Depending on the wind conditions, flying a kite can be frustrating, or like today, just plain fun. Let it go up as high as you’d like, but remember you’ll have to rewind all the string when you bring it down.”
“I’ll keep it in mind. Why don’t you come here and try it?”
Here we go, Darcy thought, but the prospect of having him wrapped around her wasn’t all that unappealing. She moved to his side and gradually took control of the string. To her infinite dismay, however, he stepped back out of her way.
“Now, tell me why you need a studio,” she prompted, as much to distract herself as to discover his intentions.
Griffin moved up behind her and began to rub her shoulders. “You look rather stiff. Does this feel good?”
His touch was light but sure and incredibly soothing. “Christy Joy said you’d have great hands.”
“Did she?” Griffin chuckled.
Darcy hadn’t meant to pay the compliment out loud. “Please don’t tell her I said that.”
“I’m going to be tempted, but maybe we can work out something.”
“Do you expect a bribe?” Darcy felt a strong tug on the string and released a bit more. The kite was way out over the bluff now and dancing against the sun.
Griffin leaned down and nibbled her right ear. “Stay for dinner. I bought a roasted chicken. You eat those, don’t you?”
Darcy felt his breath on her cheek and couldn’t recall his question. “Chicken?” she mumbled numbly.
Griffin kissed her left ear lightly. “Yes, do you like them?”
He was wrapped around her now, and as snugly as she had imagined—no, hoped. She relaxed against him, and he began to trace teasing circles around the tip of her left breast with his right hand, while his left crept slowly down her stomach toward the sweet spot between her legs. His hips were pressed against her back, and there was no mistaking the intensity of his desire.
“This is what you had in mind all along, isn’t it?” she nearly moaned.
“Do you blame me?”
Darcy dipped her head. She supposed this was simply his usual routine. He would be in town for a few days to give a concert, and if he wanted to connect with a woman, he would waste no time in going about it. Even better than a sailor with a girl in every port, she bet he had women all around the world eagerly awaiting his return.
“Darcy? What was his name?”
Startled, Darcy turned to look up at him. “Whose name?”
“The man who broke your heart.”
Enfolded in his embrace, Darcy could not recall any of the other men she’d known. “Griffin Moore,” she breathed out softly.
