MAYA BANKS has loved romance novels from a very (very) early age, and almost from the start, she dreamed of writing them, as well. In her teens she filled countless notebooks with overdramatic stories of love and passion. Today her stories are only slightly less dramatic, but no less romantic.
She lives in Texas with her husband and three children and wouldnât contemplate living anywhere other than the South. When sheâs not writing, sheâs usually hunting, fishing or playing poker. She loves to hear from her readers, and she can be found on Facebook or you can follow her on Twitter (www.twitter.com/maya_banks). Her website, www.mayabanks.com, is where you can find up-to-date information on all of Mayaâs current and upcoming releases.
Rafael de Luca had been in worse situations before, and heâd no doubt be in worse in the future. He could handle it. These people would never make him sweat. Theyâd never know that he had absolutely no memory of any of them.
He surveyed the crowded ballroom with grim tolerance, sipping at the tasteless wine to cover the fact that he was uneasy. It was only by force of will that heâd managed to last this long. His head was pounding a vicious cadence that made it hard to down the swallow of wine without his stomach heaving it back up.
âRafe, you can pack it in,â Devon Carter murmured next to him. âYouâve put in enough time. No one suspects a thing.â
Rafael swiveled to see his three friendsâDevon, Ryan Beardsley and Cameron Hollingsworthâstanding protectively at his back. There was significance there. Always at his back. Ever since they were freshmen in college, determined to make their mark on the business world.
They had come when he was lying in the hospital, a yawning black hole in his memory. They hadnât coddled him. Quite the opposite. Theyâd been complete bastards. He was still grateful for that.
âIâve been told I never leave a party early,â Rafe said as he tipped the wine toward his mouth again. As soon as the aroma wafted through his nostrils, he lowered the glass, changing his mind. What he wouldnât give for a bloody painkiller.
Heâd refused any medication. He despised how out of control painkillers made him feel. But right now, heâd gladly take a few and pass out for several hours. Maybe then heâd wake up without the god-awful pain in his temples.
Camâs lips twisted in a half snarl. âWho gives a damn what you typically do? Itâs your party. Tell them all toââ
Ryan held up his hand. âTheyâre important business associates, Cam. We want their money, remember?â
Cam scowled as he scanned the room.
âWho needs a security team with the three of you around?â Rafael drawled. He joked, but he was grateful for people he could trust. There was no one else heâd admit his memory loss to.
Devon leaned in quickly and said in a low voice, âThe man approaching is Quenton Ramsey the third. His wifeâs name is Marcy. Heâs already confirmed for the Moon Island deal.â
Rafael nodded and took a step away from the shelter of his friends and smiled warmly at the approaching couple. A lot rode on making sure their investors didnât get nervous. Rafael and his business partners had located a prime spot for their resortâa tiny island off the coast of Texas just across the bay from Galveston. The land was his. Now all they had to do was build the hotel and keep their investors happy.
âQuenton, Marcy, itâs wonderful to see you both again. And may I say how lovely you look tonight, Marcy. Quenton is a very lucky man.â
The older womanâs cheeks flushed with pleasure as Rafael took her hand and brought it to his lips.
He nodded politely and pretended interest in the couple, but his nape was prickling again, and he squelched the urge to rub it. His head was lowered as if he were hanging on to every word, but his gaze rapidly took in the room, searching for the source of his unease.
At first his gaze flickered past her but he yanked his attention back to the woman standing across the room. Her stare bore holes through him. Unflinching and steady even when his eyes locked with hers.
It was hard for him to discern why he was so arrested by her. He knew he generally preferred tall, leggy blondes. He was a total sucker for baby blues and soft, pale skin.