Brenda Jackson - Millionaire's Wedding Revenge / Stranded with the Tempting Stranger - Millionaire's Wedding Revenge

Millionaire’s Wedding Revenge by Anna DePalo

LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON?

Seems the Garrison apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree. According to a very reliable source, Stephen Garrison fathered a love child that he is not claiming! Sound familiar? Our source says the mother and child are living in a rundown cottage on the outskirts of Miami Beach, and millionaire businessman Stephen – who was accompanied by an A-list actress on his yacht just last weekend – hasn’t attempted to see his progeny.

In other Garrison news, we hear there may be some new additions to the family. Anna Garrison, the newly minted wife of Garrison honcho Parker, was spotted looking at baby clothes on Lincoln Road Mall. A salesperson mentioned one of the Garrison twins had also picked up several items, but she couldn’t distinguish Brooke from Brittany, and the transaction was made in cash. Which one of the Garrison ladies is expecting…or could it be all three?

Stranded with the Tempting Stranger by Brenda Jackson

GOLDEN GARRISONS LOSING THEIR TOUCH?

The rumour mill is working overtime this week, folks! Sources inside the Garrison Grand have informed us that Mrs Bonita Garrison will be celebrating her sixtieth birthday at a room in the super-swanky Estate nightclub, owned by her son Adam. No word on whether Mama Garrison will be able to stand upright at her own celebration, as we hear she has no intentions of drying herself out for the upcoming gala.

We’ve also heard that Jordan Jefferies, rival of family head honcho Parker Garrison, snagged a lucrative real-estate deal from the competition. First, Hotel Victoria – guaranteed to steal the cream-of-the-crop clientele from the Garrison Grand when it opens next season. Then, the alleged acquisition of former fully owned Garrison property Brittany Beach. Now this. Seems like the Garrisons may be losing their touch.

ANNA DEPALO

BRENDA JACKSON

www.millsandboon.co.uk

by

Anna DePalo

For Susan Crosby and Barbara Daly.

Thanks for the mentoring.

ANNA DEPALO

discovered she was a writer at heart when she realised most people don’t walk around with a full cast of characters in their heads. She has lived in Italy and England; she learned to speak French, graduated from Harvard, earned graduate degrees in political science and law, forgot how to speak French and married her own dashing hero. A former intellectual property lawyer, Anna lives with her husband and son in New York City. Her books have consistently hit bestseller lists and have won a Romantic Times BOOKreviews Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best First Series Romance and been published in over a dozen countries. Readers are invited to surf to www.desireauthors.com and can also visit Anna at www.annadepalo.com.

Dear Reader,

I love writing about intelligent, resourceful, strong women, and Megan Simmons, the heroine of this book, is no exception. Megan’s trying to hold her life all together – the child, the job, the family move – until Stephen Garrison walks back into it.

To say these two have been dancing around each other for a long time is the least of it! Stephen owns the trendy hotel in South Beach, and now he’s out to discover Megan’s secrets.

Have you ever had a hotel stay that made you feel as if you’re getting away from it all for a while? Now imagine getting involved with a guy who knows how to provide you with that kind of luxurious pampering all the time. I hope you enjoy!

Wishing you the best,

Anna

One

When Megan Simmons left Miami four years ago, she’d struggled every day to regain her equilibrium and put the past behind her. But her equilibrium had eluded her, and the past had dogged her every step.

Now, at the sound of the knock on her open office door, she glanced up from the documents on her desk and into the eyes of the man she’d once thought she’d never see again.

Her breath left her in a whoosh.

She put down the papers she was holding.

“Your new partner is hard at work already, Conrad.”

His voice went through her like fine cognac. It always had. Particularly in bed.

This time, though, she immediately sensed the danger. Stephen’s words held a note of cynical amusement.

Her eyes traveled to the second man at her door. Conrad Elkind’s offer of partnership in the interior design firm she used to work for as an employee was the reason she was back in Miami.

“Good news, Megan,” Conrad said heartily. “We’ve got an assignment to redesign part of the Garrison Grand. Stephen here was so impressed by the job you did on the Garrison, Inc. building four years ago that he requested you work on this new project.”

Her eyes shot back to Stephen. From the look on his face, she knew this was no mere coincidence.

Stephen’s lips twisted. “I asked Conrad not to let the cat out of the bag until we’d sealed the deal.”

She felt the blood drain from her face. If she hadn’t already been sitting down in a chair, she’d have collapsed into one.

When she’d moved back to Miami, she’d known she might run into Stephen, but she hadn’t expected to be working for him within weeks of being back at her old firm.

Someday, in the not too distant future, she hoped to be a senior partner. Her firm would be Elkind, Ross, Gardner & Simmons . Now, however, Stephen loomed like an immovable obstacle in that path.

She composed herself and stood, even as her eyes shot daggers at the man who’d haunted her days and not too few of her nights.

“What an unexpected compliment,” she announced as she came around her desk.

She was dressed in a sand-colored skirt suit paired with an emerald blouse that echoed the color of her eyes. She was glad now for the professional armor, though—in a nod to the hot, sunny weather—her feet were encased in strappy tan sandals.

The end of summer in Miami was still hot . The September sun radiated outside Elkind, Ross & Gardner’s cool offices, and its rays filtered through the blinds on her office window, hitting her back.

Still, though her sandals lent another two inches to her five-foot-nine frame, the boost wasn’t enough to counteract Stephen’s intimidating presence. At six foot three, he loomed over her, radiating a charisma and sex appeal that were palpable.

He was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome, with jet-black hair and coffee eyes, and a body that looked as if it would make military basic training seem no more rigorous than a stroll in the park.

She’d seen evidence of his effect on women four years ago. They’d swooned over him. She’d been stupid enough to swoon over him, too.

Even now, she felt a tingling that went all over.

She wondered whether it was the cleft chin—a Garrison family trait—that did it for some women. But unlike screen idol Cary Grant, Stephen was a living, breathing playboy nonpareil.

A quick glance at his left hand was enough for her to confirm he was still single.

Conrad glanced at his watch. “I’ve got a phone conference starting in five minutes, so I’m going to leave the two of you to talk and get reacquainted.”

Getting reacquainted was the last thing she wanted to do with Stephen Garrison, ever, but she forced herself to nod. “Thanks, Conrad.”