âCan I come in?â
His heated gaze took in her terry cloth wrapped body. âI donât think thatâs a good idea.â
âMaybe not, but Iâd still like to come in.â
âWhatâs going on?â he asked.
âI know we shouldnât do this,â she murmured. âI spent my entire life working to make something of myself. And now here I am, about to throw it all away because youâre so darn attractive.â
His lips twitched in amusement.
âItâs not funny,â she said with a sigh. âI know this is a bad idea, Cole.â
âNothing will come out of this, Jamie. Iâm in no place for a relationship.â
âIâm not sure I am either. But I donât think I can fight this any longer. I ⦠I ache for you.â
The obstacles in their path were hard to ignore. But tonight, she wanted to pretend there was nothing in their way.
Just for tonight.
Dear Reader,
Iâve always wanted to live in a small town. Iâve lived in a city all my life, and for the most part, I really do like it. Toronto is cleaner and less crowded than many other big cities, itâs got a lot of beautiful buildings, tons of stores and shopping malls, a great lakefront, the CN Tower. But as much as I love it, I think Iâd be more suited to small-town life.
Quaint shops, a town square, gorgeous old houses, a place where everyone knows your name ⦠to me, it sounds like heaven, which is why I set this new two-book miniseries in the fictional town of Serenade. Alas, things arenât so idyllic in this town. Cole is a millionaire accused of killing his ex-wife, Jamie is the FBI profiler there to question him. Throw in a killer on the loose and a forbidden attraction and this small town might be more exciting than most!
I hope you enjoy Cole and Jamieâs story, and make sure to look out for Finnâs story coming next month. As always, Iâd love to hear from you.
Happy reading!
Elle
A RITA>® Award-nominated author, ELLE KENNEDY grew up in the suburbs of Toronto, Ontario, and holds a BA in English from York University. From an early age, she knew she wanted to be a writer, and actively began pursuing that dream when she was a teenager. She loves strong heroines and sexy alpha heroes, and just enough heat and danger to keep things interesting.
Elle loves to hear from her readers. Visit her website, www.ellekennedy.com, for the latest news or to send her a note.
To Patience and Keyren,
for giving my millionaire hero a chance!
Weâve got a body.
The call had come in on his cell phone, jolting him from restless slumber, and as heâd left his barren farmhouse and driven over, he hadnât been able to fight the dread climbing up his chest. Now it was jammed in the back of his throat and refused to dislodge. An omen that his peaceful little town was about to become ⦠well, not so peaceful anymore.
Patrick âFinnâ Finnegan killed the engine of his Jeep and stared out the windshield at the commanding mansion up ahead. Situated on the edge of a rocky cliff, the house resembled a smaller version of a medieval castle. Rumor had it Cole Donovan had wanted to use wood to make the structure akin to the rustic homes that were trademark to the area, but his wife had demanded the house be made of stone.
Finn wasnât surprised. Teresa Donovan always acted like a queen, so why not live as one?
A rap on the driverâs window jarred him from his thoughts.
Finn looked up to see Anna Holt, his most dedicated deputy. Uneasiness swam in Annaâs astute brown eyes, the stiffness of her slim body hinting at what Finn expected to find inside the extravagant home.
âHow bad is it?â he said in lieu of a greeting as he slid out of the driverâs seat.
Anna hesitated. âBad,â she finally said.
The two of them walked up the limestone path leading to the pillared entrance of the mansion. They moved through the ornate double doors, which were filigreed with bronze and more suited to the entry of a cathedral than a home in North Carolina. Inside the spacious front hallway, a white marble floor stretched beneath Finnâs black boots, another incongruity considering the homeâs granite exterior. Teresa Donovan had evidently opted for a show of wealth rather than consistency.
âSheâs in here,â Anna said, gesturing to the arched doorway on their left.
As they crossed the threshold, Finn rubbed the stubble on his chin and cast a weary look across the lavishly furnished living room where his second deputy, Max Patton, stood by the enormous black slate fireplace, dusting the mantle and the framed photographs atop it for fingerprints. Finnâs gaze zeroed in on one particular photo, which showed a beaming Teresa in a wedding gown, flanked by a tall man with olive-colored skin and dark eyes.
Cole Donovan, real estate tycoon, ex-husband and possible murder suspect.
Finn suppressed a groan. Damn it. This was the last thing his town needed. In the five years heâd served as the sheriff of Serenade, there hadnât been a single murder. People simply didnât get killed here.