Powerful and Proud: Beneath the Veil of Paradise / In the Heat of the Spotlight / His Brand of Passion
These men know how to treat their women!Beneath of the Veil of ParadiseHaving a passionate affair on a desert island was not something Millie Lang ever thought she’d do… But here she is with handsome Chase Bryant. Neither of these damaged souls are ready for the Pandora’s Box of emotions that their intense affair unleashes!In the Heat of the SpotlightAmbitious CEO Luke Bryant needs a big-name star to help launch his luxury department store. What he doesn’t need is sexy washed-up pop princess and tabloid joke Aurelie Schmidt. Luke didn’t expect get under her skin – or between her sheets…His Brand of PassionBillionaire Aaron Bryant is dark, brooding and has a fearsome reputation that hides a shameful family secret. So sassy maid-of-honour Zoe Parker is just a distraction when, at his brother’s wedding, they give into desire. He never expects to see Zoe again – until two little lines appear on a stick…
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Powerful & Proud
Beneath the Veil of Paradise
In the Heat of the Spotlight
His Brand of Passion
Kate Hewitt
KATE HEWITT discovered her first Mills & Boon romance on a trip to England when she was thirteen, and sheâs continued to read them ever since. She wrote her first story at the age of five, simply because her older brother had written one and she thought she could do it too. That story was one sentence longâfortunately theyâve become a bit more detailed as sheâs grown older. She has written plays, short stories and magazine serials for many years, but writing romance remains her first love. Besides writing, she enjoys reading, travelling and learning to knit.
After marrying the man of her dreamsâher older brotherâs childhood friendâshe lived in England for six years, and now resides in Connecticut with her husband, her three young children, and the possibility of one day getting a dog.
Kate loves to hear from readersâyou can contact her through her website: www.kate-hewitt.com.
Table of Contents
Kate Hewitt
Having a passionate affair on a desert island was not something Millie Lang ever thought sheâd do....
Since tragedy struck her life, Millie has cocooned herself in her work, leaving no time to think or feel.
Chase Bryant has his own reasons for escaping it all. As long as they both know this paradise is just for one week with no messy emotions, all should be fine.
But neither of these two damaged souls is ready for the Pandoraâs box of emotions that their intense passion unleashes....
WAS she ever going to start painting?
The woman had been sitting and staring at the blank canvas for the better part of an hour. Chase Bryant had been watching her, nursing his drink at the ocean-side bar and wondering if sheâd ever actually put brush to paper, or canvas, as the case might be.
She didnât.
She was fussy; he could see that straight off. She was in a luxury resort on a remote island in the Caribbean, and her tan capris had knife-edge pleats. Her pale-blue polo shirt looked like sheâd ironed it an hour ago. He wondered what she did to relax. If she relaxed. Considering her attitude in their current location, he doubted it.
Still, there was something intriguing about the determined if rather stiff set of her shoulders, the compressed line of her mouth. She wasnât particularly prettyâwell, not his kind of pretty anyway, which he fully admitted was lush, curvy blondes. This woman was tall, just a few inches under his own six feet, and angular. He could see the jut of her collarbone, the sharp points of her elbows. She had a narrow face, a forbidding expression, and even her hairstyle was severe, a blunt bob of near black that looked like she trimmed it with nail scissors every week. Its razor-straight edge swung by the strong line of her jaw as she moved.
Heâd been watching her since she arrived, her canvas and paints under one arm. Sheâd set her stuff up on the beach a little way off from the bar, close enough so he could watch her while he sipped his sparkling water. No beers for him on this trip, unfortunately.
Sheâd been very meticulous about it all, arranging the collapsible easel, the box of paints, the little three-legged stool. Moving everything around until it was all just so, and she was on a beach. In the Caribbean. She looked like she was about to teach an evening art class for over-sixties.
Still he waited. He wondered if she was any good. She had a gorgeous view to paintâthe aquamarine sea, a stretch of spun-sugar sand. There werenât even many people to block the view; the resort wasnât just luxurious, it was elite and discreet. He should know. His family owned it. And right now he needed discreet.
She finished arranging everything and sat on the stool, staring out to the sea, her posture perfect, back ramrod-straight. For half an hour. It would have been boring except that he could see her face, and how emotions flickered across it like shadows on water. He couldnât exactly decipher what the emotions were, but she clearly wasnât thinking happy thoughts.
The sun had begun its languorous descent towards the sea, and he decided she must be waiting for the sunset. They were spectacular here; heâd seen three of them already. He liked watching the sun set, felt there was something poetic and apt about all that intense beauty over in an instant. He watched now as the sun slipped lower, its long rays causing the placid surface of the sea to shimmer with a thousand lights, the sky ablaze with myriad streaks of colour, everything from magenta to turquoise to gold.
