Kianna Alexander - Tempo Of Love

The beat of attraction

It’s the opportunity of her career, a story that may save Nona Gregory’s job at one of North Carolina’s most respected papers and put the ambitious reporter on the map. All she has to do is get reserved architect Ken Yamada to open up about what inspires his unique art. But soon Nona finds herself beginning to fall for the part-time musician who plays the drums with a beat so dangerously in sync with her heart.

Fiercely protective of his scandalous past, Ken is surprised that Nona’s in-depth profile starts to uncover the real man behind his legend. Nona shares a love of music and a passion so deep that Ken doesn’t want to believe that she could betray his trust. The scoop of a lifetime would expose a family secret that might destroy his career while making Nona’s. Is she willing to sacrifice their chance for a future in perfect harmony?

“You’re putting in quite a lot of effort to find out about me. I’m not sure you even need me anymore.” He let the humor he felt seep into his tone.

She rolled her eyes, but her smile remained, bright and beautiful. “You flatter me, Ken. It’s my job to know as much as I can about you. I do the same thing with all my interview subjects.”

Draining his smoothie, he looked into her eyes. “Really. How many of your subjects have you gone running with? Or done martial arts with?”

She blinked, then her gaze fled from his. “None. You’re the first.”

He adjusted his expression, hoping to indicate how he felt about the double meaning of her words.

Her eyes grew wide, and she sat straight up in her chair as the realization hit her. She hit the button on her phone to cease the recording. “Wait. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant… Well, you know what I meant.” She looked flustered, even a bit embarrassed.

It was a big change from the put-together, confident woman he’d come to know, but parts of him enjoyed seeing her a bit off her game. “However you meant it, I’m not against being your first.”

Dear Reader,

Thank you so much for picking up Tempo of Love. This is the last title in my Gentlemen of Queen City series; at least, that’s the plan. It’s bittersweet for me to leave the gents behind, but I truly hope you’ve enjoyed the ride. Ken and Nona’s relationship is full of ups and downs, curves and detours—will they make it to the end of the road together? Turn the page and find out!

All the best,

Kianna

Tempo of Love

Kianna Alexander

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KIANNA ALEXANDER, like any good Southern belle, wears many hats: loving wife, doting mama, advice-dispensing sister and gabbing girlfriend. She’s a voracious reader, an amateur seamstress and occasional painter in oils. Chocolate, American history, sweet tea and Idris Elba are a few of her favorite things. A native of the Tar Heel state, Kianna still lives there with her husband, two kids and a collection of well-loved vintage ’80s Barbie dolls.

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For Kaia. I love you deeply...

except when you’re critiquing me. JK. Never change.

Acknowledgments

Many thanks to Jennifer C, my assistant, and the members of Kianna’s Royal Kourt street team. I appreciate all your hard work. My thanks also goes to Priscilla Johnson, who is a great friend and an invaluable supporter. To my Destin Divas: stay awesome. Thanks also to LaSheera Lee, LaShaunda Hoffman, Ronald Headen, Anya Alsobrook and the book clubs who support me.

You all rock!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

“Yo! Nona!”

Nona Gregory heard her name being called but didn’t bother looking up from her computer screen. She was typing, fast and furious, determined to get the latest draft of her article on her boss’s desk by the end of the day. Given that she only had twelve minutes, she couldn’t spare any time to deal with her coworker’s foolishness.

“I know you heard me, girl.” Ever persistent, Casey Dunning sidled into Nona’s office, a smirk on her face. “Did you get that thing I sent you?”

“Nah. Haven’t checked my email today.” Nona kept her eyes on her screen and her hands flying across the keys as she answered.

“Girl. You’re such a workaholic. You’re not even going to look at me?”

“Not until I hit Send on this article.”

Casey sighed. “Fine. I’ll wait.”

For the next few moments, the only sound in the office was of Nona’s seventy-five-words-per-minute typing. True to her word, she didn’t acknowledge Casey until she’d completed the last line, run a quick spell-check and sent the article on its way. Raising her eyes to her perturbed-looking coworker, she asked, “What’s so important?”

“It’s not important, per se. But it is funny, and I think most of us in this office would agree that you’re entirely too serious.”

Nona rolled her eyes. “Forgive me, but I was under the impression that this was a newspaper office and not the writers’ pen at a sketch comedy show.”

Casey shook her head. “Ugh. Just check your email when you get a chance, okay? You’re such a buzzkill.”

Nona watched Casey as she strode out of the office, leaving the door open. “And yet you continue to try to change me.”

After Casey left, Nona settled back in her chair. It was the end of another long day spent covering the Queen City’s arts and entertainment scene for the Charlotte Observer. As department head, Nona enjoyed a good amount of editorial freedom in choosing the stories she chased—most of the time. But with that freedom came some heavy responsibilities. She was charged with leadership of the three other reporters who also covered the area, and with being the final set of eyes to see their articles before they were passed up to her boss, the editorial director.

The sound of someone else entering her office pulled Nona back to reality. She straightened in her chair as her boss, Wendell Huffman, strode into the space. “I just saw your article on the art gallery opening hit my inbox. Good work, ace.”

She offered a small smile. “Thanks, Huff.” It was what everyone in the office called him. At least everyone who’d been working at the paper more than a year.

At fifty-two, Wendell had been in the reporting game for more than two decades. His face was clean shaven and retained a youthful appearance despite the gray peppering the edges of his close-trimmed black hair. He had assessing brown eyes that seemed to see through a person and a laid-back personality that kept him calm even around the tightest of deadlines. Beneath his cool exterior, though, was a true passion for getting down to the real core of a story. Today he wore his regular uniform of a vertical-striped white shirt and a pair of crisply ironed khaki pants.