Jackie Braun - After the Party

Ella’s heart stuttered in her chest. Is he going to kiss me again?

She answered the question herself. “I’m not going to wait to find out.”

“Excuse me?” Chase said.

“Never mind.” She laughed. And then, since the man stood within easy reach, she grabbed the lapels of his suit coat and hauled him closer for a kiss.

He blinked in surprise when her lips met his, but then his hands clamped onto her waist and she felt his fingers dig into her flesh through the suit’s gabardine as he pulled her closer. That, as much as the low groan that emanated from the back of his throat, told her he was as turned on as she was.

Ella closed her eyes and gave herself over to the moment.

Dear Reader

I am sometimes asked if I base my characters—especially my heroines—on myself. While little pieces of my personality can undoubtedly be found in most of my heroines, in Ella Sanborn’s case she is definitely a figment of my imagination. Which, I have to say, is what made her a blast to write.

Oh, to be that free-spirited and fun! I am much more conservative in both dress and personality.

And, while I am certainly not a pessimist by nature, Ella is so optimistic and resilient that I can only hope I would be the same when faced with similar circumstances.

I admire people who, rather than remaining on the mat, get up and keep fighting after life knocks them flat.

My hero, Chase, is a fighter, too. Although he and Ella, of course, approach problems very differently. He is much more analytical and serious, whereas she laughs in the face of adversity.

I hope you enjoy Ella and Chase’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Drop me a line with your comments. You can find me on Twitter, Facebook or through my website, www.jackiebraun.com. I look forward to hearing from you.

Happy reading!

Jackie Braun

After the Party

Jackie Braun

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JACKIE BRAUNis the author of more than two dozen romance novels. She is a three-time RITA ®Award finalist, a four-time National Readers’ Choice Awards finalist, the winner of a Rising Star Award in traditional romantic fiction and was nominated for Series Storyteller of the Year by RT Book Reviews in 2008. She lives in Michigan with her husband and two sons, and can be reached through her website at www.jackiebraun.com

This and other titles by Jackie Braun are available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For Mom. With all my love.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Excerpt

PROLOGUE

“I see a handsome man in your future.”

Ella Sanborn fought the urge to roll her eyes at the older woman reading her palm. Ella could be naive at times. She was too trusting for her own good, or so she had been told on more than one occasion. And she was superstitious, hence today’s visit to a fortune-teller. But she wasn’t a complete fool. She was pretty sure Madame Maroushka told every young, unattached woman who darkened her door the very same thing.

But finding a man wasn’t what had brought Ella here. She leaned over the table and studied the lines that crisscrossed her opened hand, wishing she could make sense of them herself.

“What about a job? Do you see anything on there about a job? Preferably one with decent hours, paid holidays and medical benefits.”

Madame Maroushka’s scarf-wrapped head jerked up. In her heavily accented English, she asked, “You are single, no?”

“Yes.”

“But you are not interested in a man?”

“I’m not.” She said it resolutely, thinking of her ex-boyfriend, Bradley Farmington.

He’d been as loyal as a prostitute, dumping her right after her father’s legal troubles began. So much for true love. After the insider-trading charges leveled against Oscar were dropped, Bradley had sent her a note of apology. He felt bad about the way he’d handled things and claimed that he’d never really believed her father was guilty of anything. He’d been overly worried about his pending membership into an elite Manhattan social club. Ella forgave Bradley for bailing on her. She figured he’d done her a favor. He’d shown his true colors. A lot of her so-called friends had.

But Ella hadn’t dated anyone seriously since.

“He is very good-looking, this one,” the older woman crooned.

Ella shook her head. “I have more pressing problems than my social life right now.”

“But he is rich.” Madame Maroushka’s wily smile revealed a gold front tooth. Hmm, Ella thought, the fortune-telling business must pay pretty well, which reminded her...

“I’d rather have a job.”

“Land a wealthy husband, my dear girl, and you would not have to work ever again.”

“Yeah. So I’ve heard,” Ella replied dryly, thinking of her former stepmother’s snarky advice.

Camilla Sanborn would know a thing or two about landing wealthy husbands. She’d married Ella’s father at the height of his success and then left him to marry another billionaire when Oscar’s fortunes changed. No, thank you, Ella thought. She would pay her own bills, starting with those that were past due, just as soon as she had a job.

She nodded toward her palm again and asked Madame Maroushka, “Are you getting any vibes about the sales position at La Chanteuse on Thirty-Third?”

She’d submitted her résumé more than a week ago and, even though the manager had said the post needed to be filled immediately, Ella had heard nothing. Working in retail wasn’t where she saw herself employed indefinitely, but in the interim, she would take what she could get. Besides, one of the perks of working at the ladies apparel store was a 20 percent discount on merchandise, and there was a leather handbag that was calling Ella’s name.

It was hell being a fashionista on a thrift-store budget.

“My gift does not work that way. It tells me what it tells me while I study your palm. I see a man,” the woman insisted a second time. “He is tall—”

“Dark and handsome,” Ella finished impatiently.

“Hey, you want me to continue or you gonna read your own palm?”

Ella blinked in surprise. Just that quickly, the woman’s accent had relocated from East Europe to North Jersey.

“Uh, sorry. Go on.”

“Very well.” With her accent now back in the Baltic, Madame Maroushka continued. “He is lonely, this man. And not dark, at least not how you meant. I see fair hair and light eyes. He is searching for...someone.”

In spite of the pressing nature of her visit, Ella couldn’t help but be intrigued. “But is he single?”

Jersey made another appearance in Madame Maroushka’s speech. “Whaddaya think? I just said the guy was lonely and searching.”

“Yes, but the two conditions are not mutually exclusive,” Ella felt the need to point out. “Last month, I went on a date with a guy who claimed to be lonely and looking for love. He also happened to be married.”