The Governess Club: Louisa (28 page)

An Excerpt from

A Billionaires and Bikers Novella

by Cynthia Sax

Belinda “Bee” Carter is a good girl; at least, that’s what she tells herself. And a good girl deserves a nice guy—just like the gorgeous and moody billionaire Nicolas Rainer. Or so she thinks, until she takes a look through her telescope and sees a naked, tattooed man on the balcony across the courtyard. He has been watching her, and that makes him all the more enticing. But when a mysterious and anonymous text message dares her to do something bad, she must decide if she is really the good girl she has always claimed to be, or if she’s willing to risk everything for her secret fantasy of being watched.

An Avon Red Novella

I
’d told Cyndi I’d never use it, that it was an instrument purchased by perverts to spy on their neighbors. She’d laughed and called me a prude, not knowing that I was one of those perverts, that I secretly yearned to watch and be watched, to care and be cared for.

If I’m cautious, and I’m always cautious, she’ll never realize I used her telescope this morning. I swing the tube toward the bench and adjust the knob, bringing the mysterious object into focus.

It’s a phone. Nicolas’s phone. I bounce on the balls of my feet. This is a sign, another declaration from fate that we belong together. I’ll return Nicolas’s much-needed device to him. As a thank you, he’ll invite me to dinner. We’ll talk. He’ll realize how perfect I am for him, fall in love with me, marry me.

Cyndi will find a fiancé also—everyone loves her—and we’ll have a double wedding, as sisters of the heart often do. It’ll be the first wedding my family has had in generations.

Everyone will watch us as we walk down the aisle. I’ll wear a strapless white Vera Wang mermaid gown with organza and lace details, crystal and pearl embroidery accents, the bodice fitted, and the skirt hemmed for my shorter height. My hair will be swept up. My shoes—

Voices murmur outside the condo’s door, the sound piercing my delightful daydream. I swing the telescope upward, not wanting to be caught using it. The snippets of conversation drift away.

I don’t relax. If the telescope isn’t positioned in the same way as it was last night, Cyndi will realize I’ve been using it. She’ll tease me about being a fellow pervert, sharing the story, embellished for dramatic effect, with her stern, serious dad—or, worse, with Angel, that snobby friend of hers.

I’ll die. It’ll be worse than being the butt of jokes in high school because that ridicule was about my clothes and this will center on the part of my soul I’ve always kept hidden. It’ll also be the truth, and I won’t be able to deny it. I am a pervert.

I have to return the telescope to its original position. This is the only acceptable solution. I tap the metal tube.

Last night, my man-crazy roommate was giggling over the new guy in three-eleven north. The previous occupant was a gray-haired, bowtie-wearing tax auditor, his luxurious accommodations supplied by Nicolas. The most exciting thing he ever did was drink his tea on the balcony.

According to Cyndi, the new occupant is a delicious piece of man candy—tattooed, buff, and head-to-toe lickable. He was completing armcurls outside, and she enthusiastically counted his reps, oohing and aahing over his bulging biceps, calling to me to take a look.

I resisted that temptation, focusing on making macaroni and cheese for the two of us, the recipe snagged from the diner my mom works in. After we scarfed down dinner, Cyndi licking her plate clean, she left for the club and hasn’t returned.

Three-eleven north is the mirror condo to ours. I straighten the telescope. That position looks about right, but then, the imitation UGGs I bought in my second year of college looked about right also. The first time I wore the boots in the rain, the sheepskin fell apart, leaving me barefoot in Economics 201.

Unwilling to risk Cyndi’s friendship on “about right,” I gaze through the eyepiece. The view consists of rippling golden planes, almost like . . .

Tanned skin pulled over defined abs.

I blink. It can’t be. I take another look. A perfect pearl of perspiration clings to a puckered scar. The drop elongates more and more, stretching, snapping. It trickles downward, navigating the swells and valleys of a man’s honed torso.

No. I straighten. This is wrong. I shouldn’t watch our sexy neighbor as he stands on his balcony. If anyone catches me . . .

Parts 1, 2, and 3 available now!

An Excerpt from

A Valentine Valley Novella

by Emma Cane

Welcome to Valentine Valley! Emma Cane returns to the amazing and romantic town for the latest installment in her sparkling series. When an ex-rodeo star falls in love with an agoraphobic B&B owner, he must pull out all the stops to get her out of her shell.

W
ith the pie in the oven, Amanda set the timer on her phone, changed into old clothes suitable for gardening, smeared on sunscreen, and headed outside. The grounds of the B&B took just as much work as the inside. She’d hired a landscaper for some of the major stuff like lawn and tree care, but the flowers, shrubs, and design work were all hers. She felt at peace in her garden, with the high bushes that formed walls on either side. The terraced lawn sloped down amidst rock gardens to Silver Creek, where she kept kayaks, canoes, and paddleboards for her guests. She had little hidden walkways between tall shrubs, where unusual fountains greeted visitors as a reward for their curiosity. She’d strung lights between the trees, and at night, her garden was like her own private fairy world.

One she had to share with guests, of course.

As she headed across the deck that was partially covered by an arbor, she glanced toward the hot tub beneath the gazebo—and did a double take. Mason Lopez sat alone on the edge of the tub, his jeans rolled up to his knees, his feet immersed. Though he was staring at the bubbling water, he seemed to be looking inward.

She must have made a sound, because he suddenly turned his head. For a moment, she was pinned by his gaze, aware of him as a man in a way she hadn’t felt about anyone in a long time.

She shook it off and said, “Sorry to disturb you.” She was about to leave him in peace, but found herself saying instead, “Is everything all right?”

He smiled, white teeth gleaming out of the shadows of the gazebo, but it was a tired smile that quickly died.

“Sure, everything’s fine. My meeting just didn’t go as expected.”

She felt frozen, unable to simply leave him when he’d said something so personal. “I bet you’ll be able to work it out.”

A corner of his mouth quirked upward. “I’m glad you’re sure of that.”

“You’re not?” Where had that come from? And then she walked toward him, when she should have been giving him his privacy. But he looked so alone.

“Will you join me?” he asked.

She was surprised to hear a thread of hope in his voice. As a person who
enjoyed
being alone, this felt foreign to her, but the need to help a guest overruled that. She sat down cross-legged beside him. They didn’t talk at first, and she watched him rub his shoulder.

He noticed her stare and gave a chagrinned smile. “I injured it years ago. It still occasionally aches.”

“I imagine the hard work of ranching contributes to that.”

“Yeah, it does, but it’s worth it. I love working the land that’s been in my family for almost seventy-five years. But we’ve been going through a tough time, and it’s been pretty obvious we need a championship bull to invigorate our breeding program. I thought if I met with some of the ranchers here, we could find some investment partners.”

“That was what your meeting today was about?”

“Yeah. But the Sweetheart Ranch is a large operation, and it’s all they want to handle right now.”

“We have other ranches around here.”

He glanced at her and grinned. “Yeah, I have more meetings tomorrow.”

“I’m sure you’ll be successful.” She looked away from him, the magnetism of his smile making her feel overheated though she was sitting in the shade. Or maybe it was the proximity of the hot tub, she told herself.

An Excerpt from

by T. J. Kline

From author T. J. Kline comes the stunning follow-up to
Rodeo Queen
. When former rodeo queen Alicia falls for perpetual playboy Chris, she must find a way to tame him.

A
licia Kanani slapped the reins against her horse’s rump as he stretched out, practically flying between the barrels down the length of the rodeo arena, dirt clods rising behind them as the paint gelding ate up the ground with his long stride. She glanced at the clock as she pulled him up, circling to slow him to a jog as a cowboy opened the back gate, allowing her to exit. 14.45. It was only good enough for second place right now. If only she’d been able to cut the first barrel closer, it might have taken another tenth of a second off her time.

She walked her favorite gelding, Beast, back to the trailer and hooked his halter around his neck before loosening his cinch. She heard the twitter of female laughter before she actually recognized the pair of women behind her trailer and cringed. Delilah had been a thorn in her side ever since high school, when Alicia had first arrived in West Hills. There’d never been a lack of competition between them, but it seemed, years later, only one of them had matured at all.

“Look, Dallas, there’s Miss Runner-Up.” Delilah jerked her chin at Alicia’s trailer. “Came in second again, huh?” She flipped her long blonde waves over her shoulder. “I guess you can’t win them all . . . oh, wait.” She giggled. “You don’t seem to win any, do you? That would be me.” The pair laughed as if it were the funniest joke ever.

“Isn’t it hard to ride a broom
and
a horse at the same time, Delilah?” Alicia tipped her head to the side innocently as Delilah glared at her and stormed away, pulling Dallas with her.

Alicia snidely imitated Delilah’s laugh to her horse as she pulled the saddle from his back and put it into the trailer. “She thinks she’s so funny. ‘You haven’t won. I have,’ ” she mimicked in a nasally voice. “Witch,” she muttered as she rubbed the curry comb over Beast’s neck and back.

“I sure hope you don’t kiss your mother with that mouth.”

Alicia spun to see Chris Thomas, her best friend Sydney’s brother, walking toward her trailer. She’d rodeoed with Chris and Sydney for years, until Chris had gone pro with his team roping partner. For the last few years, they’d all been pursuing the same goal, the National Finals Rodeo, in their respective events. So far their paths hadn’t crossed since Sydney’s wedding nearly two years before. She’d suspected she might see him here since they were so close to home and this rodeo boasted a huge purse for team ropers.

“Chris!” She hurried over and gave him a bear hug. “Did you rope already?”

“Tonight during the slack.” Most of the team ropers would be competing tonight before the barbecue and dance. “I see Delilah’s still giving you a hard time.”

She shrugged and smirked. “She’s still mad I beat her out for rodeo queen when Sydney gave up the title.”

“That was a long time ago. You’d think she’d let it go.” Chris stuffed his hands into his pockets and leaned against the side of her trailer, patting Beast’s neck. “Maybe you should put Nair in her shampoo like she did to you.”

Alicia cringed at the memory. “It was a good thing I smelled it before I put it on my head. That could’ve been traumatizing, but I got her back.”

“That’s right. Didn’t you put liniment in her lip gloss?” She smiled at the reminder of the prank, and Chris laughed. They’d had some good times together in the past. She wondered how they’d managed to drift apart over the past few years. She missed his laugh and the way he always seemed to bring the playful side of her personality to the surface.

“So, how’d you do?”

“Second—so far,” she clarified. “Again.”

He chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest. His biceps bulged against the material of his Western shirt, and she couldn’t help but notice how much he’d filled out since she’d last seen him. And in all the right places. “Second’s nothing to complain about.”

“It’s nothing to brag about either,” she pointed out, tearing her eyes away from his broad chest. She finished brushing down the horse, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the way he continued to silently watch her, as if he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how to bring it up. Finally she turned and faced him. “What?”