Coreene Callahan: Fury of Desire

She did and…

Holy God. J. J. blinked. A baby grand piano. A freaking baby grand piano sat across the room. Glossy black paint shining. Ivory-white keys glowing. Padded bench seat calling her name. And beside it, standing proud in a guitar stand, a brand new Bedell… honey-colored wood gleaming in the low light. Disbelief warred with overwhelming emotion. Without mercy, it punched through to grab her heart, squeezing so hard she struggled to breathe. Her hands started to shake. Tears pooled in her eyes, blurring her vision, making her throat close, kicking shock up a notch.

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. It was too much. Way too much. The most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Beyond anything she could’ve imagined for herself.

“Oh, Wick,” she whispered, so overwhelmed she didn’t know what to do. Sit down and cry like a baby. Or hug Wick so hard she’d crack his ribs. “Oh my God. You… I… it’s…”

“How’d I do?”

“I can’t… I don’t even know how to…” A rasp in her voice, J. J. struggled to answer. She shook her head, knowing she needed to give Wick his due, but… God. His gift stunned her into stupidity. A music room. Beautiful, crazy man. He’d built her a music room. A place for her to compose. A spot designed for play. A space all her own. Gratitude collided with appreciation, looping around her heart, combining with her love for him. A sob lodged in her throat, J. J. dragged her gaze away from the Bedell and turned toward him. He stood a few feet away, golden eyes intent, watching, waiting… no doubt wondering if she liked his gift. “It’s phenomenal. Beyond gorgeous. I love it. You’re just… crazy incredible.”

Pleasure sparked in his eyes a second before his mouth curved.

More tears fell, and unable to stay away a second longer, J. J. reached for him. Bridging the distance, he moved in tight and hugged her close, making her feel precious. Amazing… in every sense of the word. No one had ever made her feel important—cherished, needed, worthy of this kind of attention. No one except Wick, and as she pressed her cheek to his chest and listened to his heartbeat, she understood, for the first time, what true love meant.

“Thank you,” she said, her tears soaking through his T-shirt. “The words will never be enough, but… thank you, Wick. Thank you so very much.”

With a hum, he kissed the top of her head. “I have another gift.”

“Oh jeez,” she said with a sniffle. “Are you trying to kill me?”

He laughed, flashing straight white teeth, and pivoted with her in his arms. Slow dancing with her, he twirled her in lazy circles across the room and into a seating area. One she hadn’t noticed until now. Totally understandable. She’d been too busy staring at the piano and her new guitar to notice anything else, but as Wick sat her on the couch, her power of observation came back on line. A present—a big one with a floppy red bow—sat on the coffee table. Wick slid onto the sofa next to her, his hard-bodied, long-limbed frame depressing the seat cushions.

Over the initial shock of the baby grand, curiosity got the better of her. Her gaze cut to his. She raised a brow.

Arms flung along the back of the sofa, Wick settled in to watch her. He tipped his chin. “Open it.”

“You’re spoiling me.”

“A mate’s prerogative.”

Pleasure shivered through her. Mate. Oh, how she liked the sound of that, and as she broke eye contact and slid to the edge of her seat, she wanted to forget about the gift. Postpone it until later and make love to him instead. Glancing over her shoulder, she treated him to a saucy look. Heat sparked in his gaze. She licked over her bottom lip. Wick shook his head and pointed to the present.

“Okay, okay.” Grabbing the gift, J. J. dragged the tall box across the tabletop. “Better get ready, though, ’cause afterward, you’re gonna pay for making me wait.”

“Deal.”

Undoing the bow, J. J. flipped the top off and, peering over the edge, peeked inside. She froze. Good lord. It couldn’t be. No way would he—

Her present moved.

J. J.’s mouth fell open. Shock expanded. All thought vanished. Complete and utter adoration replaced it.

“Oh my goodness, Wick… you didn’t,” she whispered, disbelieving even as she reached inside and lifted her gift from the box. White with gray markings, the puppy stared at her, dark-brown eyes solemn, black button nose inches from her own. Speechless, J. J. stared back. Good heavens, a dog… and not just any breed either, but a perfect, pudgy-nosed baby bulldog. “You just didn’t.”

“Seems I did.” Focus absolute, he took in every nuance of her expression. “Do you like her?”

“Do I… holy moly, no. Like doesn’t even come close. I love her.” Another round of tears rolled over her lashes. A music room and a puppy. All on the same day. Totally surreal. So completely unexpected, J. J. couldn’t wrap her brain around it. But as she hugged her new dog and looked at Wick, the truth finally hit home. This was her life now. He was her life. She belonged to the most incredible, generous, gorgeous man in the world, and he to her. “Have I told you how much I love you today?”

“Words, vanz ä la, ” he said, a growl in his voice. The dark tone hinted of amatory afternoons and untold naughtiness. Desire spiraled on an incendiary swirl, making her toes curl. “Show me instead.”

With a “hell, yeah,” J. J. rose to the challenge and set the puppy down beside the couch. Nose to the floor, the little darling went exploring, and she didn’t hesitate. She slipped into Wick’s embrace, buried her hands in his hair, and kissed him deep, knowing she would never get enough of him. So lucky. Despite her mistakes. Despite a rocky past and rough start. Despite all the guilt and heartache. Fate smiled down on her, granting her the one thing she hadn’t known she couldn’t do without…

The best kind of forever with the man in her arms.

I’ve discovered along the way that every book I write is different. Each story comes together in its own time, at its own pace, the ideas, themes, and characters melding to form a transformative kind of story magic. This book, however, touched me in ways I have difficulty explaining. Maybe because I fell in love with Wick, the hero of Fury of Desire , the instant I met him. There is just something about a bad boy, isn’t there? Particularly one with a shady past, an uncertain future, and a bad attitude. But for all his stubbornness, he made me a better writer, challenging me in ways no story ever has… and for that, I thank him.

Many thanks to my literary agent, Christine Whitthohn. You rock, baby!

A huge thanks to Eleni Caminis and Melody Guy. Thank you for all your hard work, dedication, and support. It means the world to me. And to the entire Amazon Publishing team whose talents, enthusiasm, and commitment never cease to amaze me. I so enjoy working with all of you!

To my friends and family, I love you all. Thank you for putting up with me and my distraction when I’m deep in Storyland.

Last but never least, to Kallie Lane, fellow writer, critique partner, and friend: You make me better. You always have. Thank you!

I raise a glass to each and every one of you!