Her job was wonderful, better than sheâd ever imagined, but what kept her up at nights wasnât her job.
It was Keir.
She wanted him. In her arms. In her bed, and to hell with whether or not heâd respect her in the morning. She already knew the answer. He wouldnâtâ¦but she didnât care anymore. She wanted Keir, wanted him, wanted himâ
âYou know what you need, Berk?â he said softly.
Her mouth was as dry as the Nevada desert. âDo you?â
âYes.â His voice roughened, and she could feel her heart trying to leap from her breast.
âYou need a lesson, and Iâm the man to give it to you.â
âKeirâ¦â His name came out a whisper. âKeirâ¦â
âWhat time does lunch finish up?â
She blinked. Sex by appointment? âFour, but why do youââ
âGood.â He turned away. âBe ready to go at five-thirty.â
Dear Reader,
Welcome to the exciting, passion-filled world of the OâConnells. Meet Keir, the eldest OâConnell son, and Cassie, a young woman whom life has sometimes treated unkindly. Cassieâs worked at Keirâs hotel, but he never really noticed her. Now, in the first book in the OâConnell series, Keir lets us in on a secret. He canât forget what happened between him and Cassie one magical night under a hot summer moon. Cassie canât forget, eitherâ¦and thatâs when the fireworks begin.
Youâve told me how much you loved the Barons. I hope youâll show that same generous warmth to the OâConnells. Please take Keir, Sean, Cullen, Fallon, Megan and Briana into your hearts. Then come along with me and their proud, powerful mother, Mary Elizabeth OâConnell Coyle, as we begin that most important of lifeâs journeysâa search for deep, passionate, all-enduring love.
With love,
You can e-mail Sandra at: www.sandramarton.com
Late summer, on the road to Las Vegas:
THE sun was a hint of gold lighting the rim of the desert as Keir OâConnell crossed the state line into Nevada.
The road was empty and he was driving fast, the black Ferrari eating up the miles like the powerful thoroughbred it was. A sign flashed by, so quickly Keir couldnât read it, but he didnât have to. He knew what it said.
75 miles to Las Vegas. Welcome to the Desert Song Hotel and Casino.
Seventy-five miles. At the speed he was driving, little more than half an hour away.
Keir eased back on the gas pedal.
Heâd been on the road for two days, driving almost nonstop, knowing heâd pushed things too far and if he didnât hurry, heâd miss his motherâs wedding.
The thought was almost enough to make him smile.
Missing the duchessâs wedding wasnât an option. Sheâd wait until all six of her children were gathered before taking her vows with Dan Coyle. Afterward, sheâd peel the hide off whichever of them had caused the delay.
No, missing the wedding wasnât a possibility. BesidesâKeir checked the dashboard clockâbesides, heâd make it in plenty of time. The ceremony wasnât until tomorrow. Heâd told himself he was driving hard because he wanted the chance to visit with his family and that was part of it, yes, but the greater truth was that driving fast relaxed him.
He knew, from long experience, that taking a car almost to its limit, seeing how far he could push the speed until he was hovering on that razor-sharp edge between control and the loss of it, was usually enough to drain him of tension. That, or being with a woman, but that was the last thing he wanted now.
He hadnât touched a woman in the thirty days heâd been goneâ¦in the month since heâd made an ass of himself in a moonlit Texas garden with Cassie Berk.
One month. Was that all the time heâd been away? Had he really made so many life-altering decisions in four short weeks? It didnât seem possible, especially for him. Heâd spent a lifetime with his brothers teasing him about being such a vigilant planner.
âBe careful,â his mother had said the year heâd gotten his pilotâs license, and one of his brothersâSean, maybeâhad laughed and hugged her and said there was no reason to worry, that Keir would never have an accident unless he planned it first.
Keir frowned.
Then, how come he was about to sign off as Chief Operating Officer of the Desert Song and move twenty-five hundred miles across the country to a vineyard in Connecticutâa vineyard into which heâd sunk a small fortune?
Keir shifted in his seat and tried to find a better angle for his legs. The Ferrari had more room under the dashboard than some cars heâd driven but it was built for speed, not comfort, especially if you topped six foot two.
What he was going to do would make anyone edgy. And, yeah, why lie to himself? The prospect of seeing Cassie again bothered him, too. It bothered him a lot. Nobody went through life without doing something stupid; despite what Cassie had called him, he wasnât arrogant enough to think he was the exception to the rule. But what heâd done that nightâ¦