Hi Joss and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Little Secrets: Unexpectedly Pregnant!
Thanks for having me.
Please summarize the book for the readers here:
Sage Ballantyne is the youngest Ballantyne sibling and the only girl. Having lost her parents when she was six in a tragic airplane crash, she’s scared of loving and losing the people she loves. Sage walks away from people, especially men before they can leave her and break her very fragile heart. So she walked away from Tyce Latimore, the famous artist and sculptor!
Tyce was more than happy to let Sage walk. Coming from a dysfunctional home, he’s been the family breadwinner since a very young age and he doesn’t want or need the responsibility of a lover, wife or girlfriend. All he needs is his art and to secure his sister’s future, a future that is tied up with the famous Ballantynes.
Three years after their brief affair, Sage and Tyce meet up again at his latest art exhibition and sparks fly. Sage finds herself pregnant and Tyce realizes that he has to lay his cards on the table and reveal the connection between the Ballantyne family and his sister…
In the midst of all this turmoil, Sage and Tyce have to find a way to raise a baby together and find and, more importantly, trust love.
What’s your favorite line(s) from the book?:
“We’ve made a muddle of a lot of things, Sage, but you having my baby? That’s not one of them.”
“Are you sure? He, or she, is going to flip our world.”
“That’s not always a bad thing and I’m strapped in for the ride.” He kissed her nose before pulling her closer, hugging her tight. “The baby is a gift that I haven’t said thank you for so…thank you. I have many regrets, Sage, but this baby will never be one of them.”
When you sat down to start this book, what was the biggest challenge you faced? What were you most excited about?
The Ballantynes (there are five books in the series) are a wealthy, dynamic, charismatic family and the challenge for each book is the same: make the characters real. I want the reader to forget that they are famous and wealthy and root for them because they are flawed and a little messed up.
Sage has had everything she’s ever wanted except the security of love, she’s lived with the fear of being abandoned by the people who love her because she’s lived it. Making the reader understand her fear (and Tyce’s need to be alone) was a constant challenge.
Please tell us a little about the characters in your book. As you wrote your protagonist was there anything about them that surprised you?
Sage is so vulnerable but so very brave. She’s easily hurt and Tyce has the ability to decimate her. Under his broody, hardass exterior, Tyce is equally vulnerable. He’s had a very tough life and he’s simply trying to do the best he can to protect his sister financially and to keep his battered heart out of harm’s way.
What have you learned about your own writing process/you as an author while writing this book?
Sage and Tyce seemed to write their own story, it was one of those rare books that simply flowed. I believe that the Universe gives me one of those books occasionally to keep me motivated. Otherwise, I would be a basket case.
The First kiss…
Every muscle in Sage’s body stiffened. Oh, no, he hadn’t. No way, no how. Not even Tyce Latimore would have the balls to…
She looked at the sculpture again and yep, there on the “desk” was a tiny, beautifully made steel frog, its surface treated so that it took on a greenish hue. In an instant Sage flashed back to three years before.
They’d arrived separately to a party, not wanting to tip off the world about their relationship—the heiress and the hot artist, professionally and personally, would be big news—and they’d spent the evening pretending not to know each other. The tension had been hot and sexy and, by the time Tyce dropped a quick suggestion in her ear that they meet in the library, she was a vibrating, hot, sticky mess of take-me-now. Within twenty seconds of slipping into the room, the door was locked, Tyce had her dress up her hips and had stripped her of her soaking thong. He’d unzipped, leaned her over the desk and he’d taken her, hard and fast, from behind.
The jade frog on her host’s desk had watched them, thoroughly unamused.
Sage hauled in a breath as her heart tried to claw its way out of her chest. How dare he? What they’d done together was not for public dissemination.
Just another reason she’d been right to walk away from him three years ago.
“That sculpture was difficult,” Tyce’s unmistakable deep and velvety voice came from behind her. “I was constantly distracted by the memories of that night. And others.”
His words were low enough for only her to hear. She didn’t turn, but she felt the heat pouring off his body and she inhaled his soapy, sexy all-man smell. Lust skittered over her. As usual, Sage felt like she’d been plugged into the nearest electrical outlet. Her skin buzzed, her heart stumbled and her mind felt off-kilter.
Three years and he still had the ability to rocket her from composed to crazy. Three years and her first instinct was to beg him to take her to bed. Three years and instead of being angry with him for depicting their encounter in the library in an, admittedly, very abstract way, she wanted to kiss him.
Or slap him…
Then, like now, he pulled her in and tempted her into edging closer. Generally, Sage found it easy to step away from men she found too attractive or too interesting. They weren’t worth the hurt that was the inevitable outcome of becoming entangled in someone’s life.
Determined to protect herself, Sage seldom allowed relationships, especially those with men, to deepen past a week or two. With Tyce, it had taken her six weeks to convince herself to leave. He was supremely dangerous.
Tempting, addictive…all that and more.
So, obviously, kissing him was out of the question.
Sage spun around on her ice pick heels and her hand connected with his cheek. Instantly mortified and regretful, she watched that too handsome face harden, his obsidian eyes turn, if that was at all possible, darker. He opened his mouth to say something but instead of speaking both his hands gripped her hips and she was yanked her into his hard, muscled chest. His temper-tinged mouth covered hers, his hot tongue slipping between her lips and Sage was lost, swept away to a place only Tyce could take her. Sage dug her nails into his arms, feeling his bulging muscles through the thin fabric of his black dress shirt and, wanting more, her hands skated over his broad chest, danced across those washboard abs she’d loved to tickle and taste.
Tyce lifted his mouth off hers. “Come with me.”
Sage looked around for Piper, caught her eye and Piper waved her away, silently giving her permission to leave without her.She shouldn’t, this really wasn’t a good idea. But instead of saying no, instead of dismissing him or walking away—creating distance between herself and people was, after all, what she did best—she placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her out of the gallery.
Did any scene have you crying or laughing (or blushing) while writing it?
Writing the interactions between the various members of the Ballantyne family has been one of the greatest joys of this series and in this scene, Sage allows her brother’s women into her head for the first time.
Sage stared at the books of fabric swatches, her eyes wet with tears. “I love him. I do. I think I always have but as soon as he gets too close, I push him away.”
Tate sank to the floor next to her legs and rested her temple against Sage’s knee. “Oh, honey. What are you going to do?”
Sage shrugged. Since this was the first time she’d frankly and openly admitted that she loved Tyce, to herself as well as to her family, she hadn’t given the next step much thought. “I don’t know. I know I need to apologize but I can’t do that unless I speak to him. And I don’t know if I can do the whole sleeping-together-without-love thing anymore. I want to tell him that I love him but I think that he might run. Fast and hard.” Sage placed a hand on her stomach. “And, man, that will hurt like a bitch and you guys know how hard I work to avoid being hurt.”
“So you love him?” Tate asked.
Sage nodded. “Yes, I love him.” Of that much she was sure. “I always have.”
“So do it.” Tate said, her voice firm.
Sage frowned. “Sorry, what?”
“So you’re scared, so he might run. Do it anyway,” Tate said, resting her hand on Sage’s thigh. “We think that we have to get rid of the fear first when, actually, what we have to do is act first. Only then does the fear go away.”
Cady nodded. “The only way to stop being afraid of loving someone is to love them.”
Sage stared at her flat biker boots. “But what if he leaves?” she quietly asked. “Or dies?”
“Then he leaves or dies,” Piper said. She climbed to her feet and, standing behind her, wrapped her arms around Sage’s waist, her chin on her shoulder. “We can’t be responsible, or try to control, what other people do, baby. We only have control over our actions. We can only worry about what we can control.”
Sage hugged Piper’s arms to her, her eyes filling with tears. This was what a support base felt like, what belonging to a tribe of strong women felt like. These were the Ballantyne woman—Sage had always thought that Amy should change her name to Ballantyne and be done with it—and they were a unit. And, her blurry eyes focused on her niece, who was sitting in Tate’s lap, they were raising another generation of strong Ballantyne woman.
Their wise counsel made sense and she was grateful for it. She wasn’t sure if she’d take their advice but she’d certainly think about it. She’d think about it a lot.
“Wine!” Amy said, standing up. “I know that Linc recently bought a case of Domaine de la Romanée-Conti. He won’t miss a bottle, or three.”
Tate groaned. “He’ll kill us, Ames. It’s one of the most expensive wines in the world.”
“Pfft.” Amy waved her concerns away.
“Touch my wine and you’re fired,” Linc said, striding into the room. He walked into the center of the carpet, dropped a kiss on his wife’s head and grinned when his daughter held up her arms, her face splitting into a huge smile at the sight of her dad.
Sage fought tears and tried not to think of her baby looking at Tyce like that. She owed it to their child, she owed it to herself, to tell Tyce how she felt, to express what she wanted. If she didn’t, she’d regret it for the rest of her life.
She needed to be brave because if she wasn’t, how would she teach her child to be courageous, to take a chance?
Yes, it was scary; yes, terror was congealing her blood but Tyce was worth a little fear.
Sage just stared at the carpet—Was that a purple crayon buried in the threads? —as determination pushed fear into a corner, holding it at bay. She could do this. She would do this.
Sage stood up, smiled and headed for the door. The last thing she heard as she bolted out was Tate’s cheerful statement. “That’s our girl. Ames, the case of wine is still in the hallway because—neither Linc or I have had a minute to take it down to the cellar. Go grab a bottle. Or three.”
If your book was optioned for a movie, what scene would you use for the audition of the main characters?
I loved the following scene: Tyce has dropped a bombshell on the entire Ballantyne clan and Sage is doubting everything she and Tyce shared. They are both scared, worried, angry and turned on.
“Did you keep sleeping with me because it was a means to an end? Were you into me, at all?”
Sage felt her ribs squeezing her heart and lungs and thought that her skin felt a size too small. She reminded herself to breathe, telling herself that she could deal with hearing that Tyce wasn’t that into her, because it would give her the impetus she needed to stop thinking about him, dreaming about him, being tempted by him.
“Is that what you think?” Tyce asked, gripping her wrists and holding her hands against his broad chest. And, just like that, heat flowed into her and her fingers tingled with the need to touch and to explore. She could feel the slow, hard thump of her heart against her tight ribs and her nipples tightened, desperate for attention.
Tyce was touching her and that was all that important…
“Are you seriously asking me whether I was pretending to be attracted to you?”
Tyce’s harsh question reminded her that they were standing in an alley in the rain-tinged wind. Oh, and that she was as mad as hell with him.
“Are you insane?” Tyce demanded, his face saturated with frustration. He abruptly dropped her hands and slapped a hand on the top of her butt, jerking her into him. Sage released a surprised gasp when her stomach connected with the long, hard length of him. Holy cupcakes, he felt so good…
Tyce grabbed her elbows and lifted her off the ground, easily carrying her until her back touched the rough concrete wall. Holding both her wrists in one hand, he lifted her hands above her head, her breasts pushed into his chest. His deep, dark eyes met hers as he brushed her hair off her cheek. Sage held her breath as he slowly, so slowly dropped his head and his lips finally— God, he felt so good—covered hers.
His lips danced over hers, a soft, slow exploration, his tongue gentle as it wound around hers. She expected fire; she expected heat; she expected the maelstrom of want and need that always swirled between them but she didn’t expect tenderness or reassurance. She didn’t want to feel either. She wanted to be able to walk away from him, not be tempted to step closer…God, how could he make her feel like this?
Sage wrenched her mouth out from under his and glared up at him with what she hoped were stormy, accusing, and not dreamy, eyes.
“Did you kiss me to avoid the question?” she demanded, begging her heart to stop its relentless attempt to leave her chest. She dropped her eyes and, feeling the length of him still pressed against her, tried to pull her hands from his grip.
Tyce held her chin and forced her to look at him again. “I admit that I set out to meet you but this…” he hesitated, “…crazy buzz between us had nothing to do with Lach-Ty, with the Ballantyne shares. It was, is, all you.” He pushed his hard erection into her stomach and closed his eyes. “And me. You walk into the room and I immediately start thinking about how soon I can get you naked.”
Dammit. His voice was deep and slow and lifted every hair on her neck. It made her want to feast on him, to gulp him up.
So much for finding some distance.
Tyce abruptly dropped her hands and stepped away from her, pushing his free hands into his hair. “It’s cold and,” he nodded to the camera above their head, “not the most private place for either kissing or conversation. We’ll talk more tonight.”
Sage nodded, her head hurting with an overload of information and emotion.
Two thoughts ran through her head like toddlers on a sugar high: I want him bad and it’s so bad that I want him.
Readers should read this book….
Well, it’s the continuation of the Ballantyne Billionaires series and if you loved Jaeger, Beck and Linc’s story, you have to read Sage’s story. But more than that, it’s a story about hope, about love conquering fear and how important it is to take a chance on love.
What are you currently working on? What are your up-coming releases?
I’ve just finished the second book in my Love in Boston series for Harlequin Desire.
In February, the third book in my action romance, Pytheon Security, will be released. It’s called In the Line of Fire. In May, the fifth and final book in my Ballantyne Billionaire Series will be released.
Thanks for blogging at HJ!
Giveaway: I’m giving away three ebooks of Little Secrets: Unexpectedly Pregnant.
To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: Do you prefer stand-alone books or do you like reading about connected family members and friends in a series?
Excerpt from Little Secrets: Unexpectedly Pregnant:
Tyce, because he appreciated the artist she was, immediately walked over to that wall, examining her sketches. There was an intricate diamond choker, a bracelet that reminded him of a serpent crawling up an arm and teardrop earrings. Tyce looked at her scribbled notes on each drawing where she’d detailed the stones she’d use. Four-carat emeralds here, a six-carat diamond there. Sage didn’t play around.
Tyce lifted his finger up and tapped the letter-sized photograph of a ring sporting a massive red stone for its center and delicate diamond petals. Even he, stupid when it came to stones, could see that this was a serious piece of jewelry art.
“Is that a ruby?”
“It’s a red diamond.” Sage said, coming up to stand at his shoulder. “Ridiculously rare, practically flawless. It’s…” she placed a hand on her heart and Tyce could see the emotion in her eyes. “…the same chemical composition of coal but it amazes me that pressure and millions of years can turn coal into that.”
“Is it really that red?” Tyce asked, intrigued.
Sage half smiled. “That photograph doesn’t even begin to capture the color. It’s a deep, luscious red that defies description.”
“I take it that the Ballantyne family owns the ring?”
“Then why wasn’t it with the rest of the collection at the cocktail-party-slash-exhibition? I thought the point of the exhibition was to display the fabulous stones your family has collected over the past hundred years. I’d say that this ring qualifies as fabulous.”
Sage picked a pair of pliers, examined the handle and dropped them back onto the bench. “We decided not to show it to the world.”
“Why not? Is it stolen?”
Sage glared at him. “No, it’s not stolen.” She sighed and Tyce noticed her eyes darkening with something akin to pain. “I asked Linc not to exhibit the ring. For personal reasons.” Before he could ask what those personal reasons were Sage held up her hand and continued to speak. “Not going there, not now, not ever.”
Yeah, good idea. Talking was a damn good way to crack the door allowing those pesky feelings to slide on through. They had enough to deal with as it was and they didn’t need emotions muddying the water.
Bare feet peeking out from under the long hem of her jeans, Sage walked back to the center of the room and sat down on one of the two couches.
Tyce sat in the far corner on the couch opposite her, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. If she was in arms’ reach, then there was a damn good chance that he’d say to hell with talking and take her to bed. As his lack of control in the alley earlier showed, resisting Sage was not something he’d ever excelled at. And, he admitted, making love to her would be like adding C-4 to a bonfire. Stupid and dumb-ass crazy.
They were adults and they had to have a mature conversation about their situation. Tyce thought that adulthood wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be…
Then again, it was a damn sight better than being a child trying to operate in an adult world.
Sage pulled up her feet and tucked them beneath her bottom. She still looked a little shell-shocked and he couldn’t blame her. Nothing was simple about this situation…nothing ever would be.
While he wasn’t a talker, he did concede that sometimes the only way to move forward was to communicate. Dammit, something else he wasn’t great at.
“Are you still mad because I deliberately set out to meet you?” Tyce asked, keeping his voice mild.
“You used me!”
Initially he had. He’d asked her out that first night because she was Sage Ballantyne, because he’d just found out that Lachlyn was Connor’s daughter and, in his anger, he’d thought that Sage was living Lachlyn’s life. He’d expected to find a pampered princess, someone he would despise but Sage had turned out to be totally different. She was funny, down-to-earth, a little crazy.
“Within an hour of meeting I established that, while you adored your family, you wouldn’t talk about them. I also quickly realized that you weren’t that interested in the business side of the company.”
He caught the defiance in her eyes but he knew she was listening.
“If I was only interested in you for business information, I wouldn’t have bothered to call you again,” Tyce told her. “I paid a fair price for every share I purchased. I bought enough shares to bring Lachlyn to your attention, which was my eventual goal. Hearing that you are pregnant with my child moved my schedule up a bit. I haven’t cheated anyone out of anything.”
“You’re blackmailing us!” Sage retorted but he saw the doubt in her expression. Tyce didn’t feel offended, realizing that she was just trying to find solid ground, trying to make sense of this situation.
“I’m asking for DNA to be tested and if that DNA proves my theory, I am asking for my sister to meet you and your brothers. I am not asking for money, time or involvement.” Tyce rested his forearms on his thighs, his eyes steady on her face.
Sage picked at the rip on her thigh, opening up a hole in the denim that wasn’t there before.
She looked so lost and alone, out of her depth. Easily able to identify with those emotions, Tyce ignored his brain’s insistence to play it cool. He moved across the bare wooden floorboards and dropped in front of her, bending his knees and linking his hands. “I wanted to tell you first, Sage, but you wouldn’t take my calls.”
Sage opened her mouth to argue and abruptly closed it again. Yeah, she couldn’t argue that point. “You wouldn’t talk to me so I went on to plan B.”
Sage looked past him, to a painting on the far wall and Tyce followed her gaze. It was the back view of a ballerina but unlike Degas’s pretty, perfect renditions of the dancers, Tyce’s piece as full of angst, accurately capturing the pain and persistence a dancer went through to achieve perfection. The dancer, dressed in a grubby tutu, her hair falling out of her bun, was massaging her toes, fatigue and pain radiating from her. It was one of his early pieces but emotion poured from it. It was good, he supposed. Not great, but good. Tyce idly wondered when Sage had bought it and why. He knew that she loved ballet but it wasn’t, after all, a Degas, an artist whose work she could afford.
“Tell me about your sister,” Sage commanded, her eyes clashing with his.
“What do you want to know and why?” Tyce asked, lifting an eyebrow at her imperious demand.
“Well, you want us to meet her. What does she do? What is she like?”
Tyce thought a moment, wondering what to say. He adored Lachlyn but he wasn’t in the habit of talking about her. Or his family. “Uh…eight years younger than me. She’s an archivist. ”
“Really? Does she enjoy her work?”
Tyce’s mouth softened into a smile. “She loves it. She’s history, and book, crazy.”
Feeling antsy, Tyce rolled to his feet and walked across the room to look at the framed photographs on the wall. He smiled at a picture of a very young Sage in a tutu, attempting a pirouette, of Beckett on a diving board about to race, Jaeger and Linc in tuxedos at a wedding. All across the world were millions of walls like this one, holding ten billion memories.
He didn’t have a wall, neither did Lachlyn.
Like most New Yorkers, he’d watched the Ballantynes grow up. The press was consistently captivated by the closest the city had to a royal family. He remembered the day their parents died, devouring the reports about their plane crash. Tyce remembered reading about Connor, a confirmed bachelor, stepping in and scooping up his orphaned nephews and niece. The Ballantynes had been, were, a constant source of fascination to the mere mortals of the city for a long time.
He had been amazed when Connor adopted Linc, his housekeeper’s son, along with the three Ballantyne orphans. He’d wondered what type of man did that. Neither his own father, who’d bailed on him before he was old enough to remember him or his stepfather ever gave a damn for anyone other than themselves. They’d both been so immature and unreliable so it was no wonder that Connor’s easy acceptance of children who weren’t his made such an impression on him.
His mom just managed to keep it together enough to keep working but navigating the world for a few hours a day sapped all her energy. She’d had nothing left to give to her son and her infant daughter. A month after he’d graduated from high school, his mom fell in on herself and refused to leave her room, to go back to work, to talk and to interact. Six weeks passed and Tyce knew that she wasn’t getting better and that it was up to him to support his family. He gave up his scholarship to art school and found a job to feed, clothe and educate his ten-year-old sister. Since he worked two jobs and their mother slept as much and as often as possible, Lachlyn grew up alone. She’d craved a family, siblings, teasing, laughter and support but she got a mother who stopped speaking and a brother who retreated into an impenetrable cocoon, his thoughts consumed by how to stretch five dollars into ten, what new argument he could use to placate their landlord.
He and Sage couldn’t be more different. They’d come from two situations that were polar opposites. She knew how to “do” family, to love and be loved in return. To support and be supported. He adored Lachlyn but love and support had fallen by the wayside when held up against his desire to keep them off the streets.
“What do you remember about Connor, about the time when he and your mom met?”
Tyce jammed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “As I said, my mom worked as a cleaner at Ballantyne International and I remember her leaving for work in the late afternoon and coming home as I got ready for school.”
“Who looked after you?”
Tyce frowned at her. “What do you mean, who looked after me? I was seven, I looked after myself.”
Sage’s eyes widened. “She left you alone?”
“It wasn’t like she had a choice, Sage,” Tyce snapped back. “There wasn’t money for a babysitter.”
Sage laid a hand on her heart and looked horrified. God, they’d had such different childhoods. Sage probably hadn’t been able to sneeze on her own at seven.
“Did she ever try to tell Connor about your sister?”
Tyce shook his head. “No. After she died, we found a letter she left for Lachlyn, telling her the truth. She said that she could see that she’d already reached the end of the road with Connor. She knew he was going to dump her.”
“Connor didn’t do long-term relationships,” Sage said, her voice trembling. “It was just who he was …He felt trapped by people, by women. He never married or was engaged.”
He could relate. He’d had the odd affair that lasted longer than a hookup but his relationships never lasted long because he always ended up feeling trapped. Funny, he’d never felt like that with Sage, possibly because they parted ways before he started to feel claustrophobic. But he had no doubt that it would’ve happened, that he would’ve eventually felt like he was running out of air.
Getting back to the subject… “When I heard that Lachlyn was Connor’s daughter I tried to contact Connor but I couldn’t get beyond his personal lawyers. They told me that many women have tried to scam Connor, saying that they had birthed his child. They told me to subpoena his DNA but I had no grounds to do that, especially since Lachlyn’s birth certificate stated that my stepdad was her biological father. I couldn’t prove jack.”
“So you decided to buy Ballantyne shares.” Sage bit her bottom lip, her eyebrows raised. “God, Tyce, that must have cost you a fortune.”
Practically everything he had. “Yeah. But, at least, Lachlyn now owns a portion of what Connor created.” Tyce rubbed the back of his neck. This was the longest conversation he’d had in a long, long time. But he still had more to say. “We both understand that Connor left his assets to his kids. He didn’t know about Lachlyn and that’s the card life dished out. I dished another card and she now owns shares in his company. That’s enough for her, and me.”
“Seriously,” Tyce answered her, holding her eye. It was important that she realize he didn’t want anything from her or her family. All he wanted was for Lachlyn to have a chance to meet them. Anything that happened after that was in the lap of the gods.
It was raining outside; he could hear the ping of droplets on her roof. Soft light bathed her apartment in pinks and cream and made Sage look younger and softer. They were alone; he could feel his heart pounding against his rib cage, heated blood pumping through his veins. The hair on the back of his neck and his arms stood up as all that warm blood headed south.
God, he wanted her. He always did, would… Tyce looked at her and clocked the exact time when her mind moved from Lachlyn to the attraction arcing between them. Her cheeks turned pink, her mouth softened and he could see her pulse beating in that delicate vee at the bottom of her throat. She stroked the arm of the couch, her fingers gliding over the fabric as they’d once glided over his erection. She had no idea that she’d subconsciously lifted her chest, that her nipples were pushing through the fabric of her bra and T-shirt.
One look and they were both jittery with need. He had to kiss her again, he couldn’t resist…
Tyce moved across the floor quickly, stopping in front of her and placing his hands on the back of the sofa, on either side of her head.
Sage lifted her chin and shook her head. “Not happening, Latimore.”
She didn’t sound very convincing, Tyce thought. Besides he’d seen the flash of interest in her eyes, the smoky blues that suggested she was remembering how he made her feel. His junk immediately tightened and the hot, hard thump of his heart reminded him that it had been months since he’d had sex. Sage was the last woman he’d had in his bed and she was still, damn her, the only woman he wanted.
“I’d rather walk through cut glass without shoes than sleep with you,” Sage defiantly muttered, dropping her eyes to stare at her hot pink toes. Sexy toes with the middle toe sporting a delicate toe ring.
The saying about ladies and protesting too much dropped into his head but Tyce was smart enough not to verbalize that thought.
Excerpts. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Will a baby on the way reunite ex-lovers?
Three years after Tyce Latimore let Sage Ballantyne walk away, they end up back where they started—in bed. Now she’s carrying his child…and there’s no way he’s losing her again.
Tyce is tempting. Dangerous. Addictive. Sage left him for all the right reasons. But one passionate mistake could reunite her with the world-famous artist for all the wrong ones. A baby on the way ups the ante. So does an explosive secret that threatens their two families and could shatter Sage and Tyce’s precarious reunion…
Meet the Author:
Joss Wood loves books and travelling— especially to the wild places of Southern Africa. She has domestic skills of a pot plant and drinks far too much coffee.
Joss has written over twenty-five books for the Kiss/ Modern Tempted, Presents and most recently, the Desire line for Harlequin/Mills and Boon. She also writes for Tule Publishing and has had two single title romances published with Penguin/Random House for their Intermix imprint.
In 2013 Joss won the RT Reviewers Choice Award for best Harlequin Kiss. After a career in pro-business lobbying and local economic development, she now writes full time. Joss lives with her husband and their two teenage children in northern KZN. Joss is a member of the RWA (Romance Writers of America) and ROSA (Romance Writers of South Africa.)
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