‘Tina Beckett has the ability to take me on a journey of romance so strong and so mind-blowing it feels like I am floating on cloud nine for weeks afterwards. This time she has certainly done it again!’
—Contemporary Romance Reviews on How to Find a Man in Five Dates
He was going to kiss her. Right here in the middle of the park.
And she wanted him to. Desperately.
Half-afraid she might be daydreaming the whole thing and that she would snap back to attention, she curled her hand around his nape and murmured his name.
And then he was bending closer, his warm breath stirring the fine hairs on her temple.
The first touch of his lips against hers set off a chain reaction she was powerless to ignore. His elbows landed on either side of her shoulders and he lifted his head to look at her, as if trying to gauge her reaction. When he moved in again, the pressure was firmer, more insistent. Nothing like the light, exploratory touch a second ago. No, his head had shifted a quarter turn to the left, his mouth fitting perfectly over hers.
Settling in.
And she was okay with that. The fingers at his nape wandered to one of his shoulders, where the muscles bunched deliciously under her skin. All thoughts of kites and laughter were long gone. This was deadly serious—the stuff pillow talk was made of. Only, Maddy didn’t feel like talking. And she hoped Kaleb didn’t, either.
Have you ever felt responsible for a death you could have done nothing to prevent? A death that brought your whole world crashing down around you? Kaleb McBride finds himself in just such a position when he loses his only child to a terrible disease. His marriage unravels soon afterwards, and he finds himself totally alone. He shuts himself off, vowing never to have more children. And then he comes to the aid of a woman at a party who is in the middle of an asthma attack. Their attraction is immediate and explosive. Except Madeleine Grimes has a child. And a troubled past. In spite of both of those things, Kaleb soon finds himself in over his head.
Thank you for joining Kaleb and Maddy as they each struggle to let go of crushing grief and learn to enjoy life again. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll discover that love is not as far out of reach as they’d thought. I hope you enjoy reading their story as much as I loved writing it!
Love,
Tina Beckett
Three-times Golden Heart® finalist TINA BECKETT learned to pack her suitcases almost before she learned to read. Born to a military family, she has lived in the United States, Puerto Rico, Portugal and Brazil. In addition to travelling, Tina loves to cuddle with her pug, Alex, spend time with her family, and hit the trails on her horse. Learn more about Tina from her website, or ‘friend’ her on Facebook.
After completing a degree in journalism, then working in advertising and mothering her kids, ROBIN GIANNA had what she calls her ‘awakening’. She decided she wanted to write the romance novels she’d loved since her teens, and now enjoys pushing her characters towards their own happily-ever-afters. When she’s not writing, Robin’s life is filled with a happily messy kitchen, a needy garden, a wonderful husband, three great kids, a drooling bulldog and one grouchy Siamese cat.
To my husband, for putting up with my weird, writerly ways!
KALEB MCBRIDE HATED TUXEDOS.
It was safe to say that he and tuxes were no longer on speaking terms. He wore them only when it was required of him. Like tonight.
Sprinting down the steps of the Seattle Consortium Hotel, he made it a point to avoid eye contact with anyone as he dashed by. Because everywhere he looked, all he saw were costumes. Except this wasn’t Halloween and the myriad assortment of outfits or lack thereof was enough to make his head swim. From Elizabethan gowns to fairy-tale characters to flappers loaded with fringe, it was the only thing like it he’d ever seen. He even skirted a lone vampire who emitted a low hiss as he strode past.
If the hospital hadn’t made an agreement to provide concierge medical care to guests at the hotel, he probably wouldn’t even be here tonight.
A costume designers’ masquerade party. Who on earth even thought up something like that?
A suited doorman nodded to him and motioned him through yet another velvet-lined hallway. “She’s in the reception lobby.”
His patient, he assumed, and the reason he’d left the hospital’s swanky yearly fund-raiser—which was still trudging along without him in the hotel ballroom. Thank goodness for medical emergencies.
He burst into the lobby.
There.
Sure enough, sprawled on the floor next to a cluster of fancy potted plants was a woman dressed all in black. Shiny black.
Evidently the hospital hadn’t realized they’d booked their event on the same day as this. Both were dress-up affairs, but where one was as serious as it was upscale, this one looked...well, surreal. And a whole lot more fun.
Jacques, the hotel manager, was kneeling beside the downed woman, who was lying on her stomach. What he’d decided must be a long black leotard ended in sky-high boots of the same color. Had she fallen off them? A tail was attached to a cute little tush. Something he had no business noticing.
Jacques looked up as Kaleb reached him, the relief in his eyes evident. “I think she’s hyperventilating.”
Even as the man said the words, a muffled sound came from his patient, a rasping roar that was much too labored for his liking.
“Let’s turn her over.”
A black mask that looked like a patchwork of glossy black latex bound together with white stitching covered the woman’s whole head, leaving only her eyes and bright red lips exposed. Cat ears were perched on top.
The woman was dressed as a cat. A very sexy cat at that.
A quick glance could find no zipper, and the wheezing was getting steadily louder. Panicked green eyes looked up at him, one hand going to her chest as it continued to rise and fall in staccato heaves.
“We need to cut this mask off her. Now.”
The roaring paused for a second before starting up again. “No.” Wheeze, wheeze, wheeze. Cough. “...sister...kill me.”
Sister? To hell with her sister. A question surged to the forefront of his mind. “Do you have asthma?”
“Yes.” The rattling sound grew worse. “Albuterol. In my purse. Left at desk.”
Desk?
Jacques spoke up. “Some of the guests checked their briefcases and purses in at the concierge rather than carrying them around all night.” He glanced down. “Do you know your ticket number?”
The woman shook her head, gasping again. Her fingers fumbled at the wide belt encircling her waist. Kaleb spotted an opening in the side. Brushing her hands away, he felt inside and came out with a slip of paper. “Here.”
Jacques grabbed it and leaped up, heading to the desk a few feet away. In less than a minute, he came back with a black purse.
Without waiting to ask, Kaleb reached into the dark recesses of the bag and encountered a familiar-shaped object. “Got it.” He pulled the canister free, giving