PROLOGUE Taz A twisted marriage.A secret inheritance.A new love. Will Taz survive her painful past long enough to embrace a promising future?### The Escape After four months of starving myself, I wonder if I'll fit. I have to, I reason, as I look at the square box that is the downstairs bathroom window. Eight thousand and twenty-three square feet encompassing three floors in one of the most exciting cities in the world: New York. Seven bedrooms and eight bathrooms of Italian marble flooring; Brazilian teak-wood cabinets; and ornately-carved, black-iron staircases. The townhouse's luxury is endless in my gilded prison, except for the one luxury I crave: love. Until I met him, I had never thought of love as a luxury. I breathed it as easily as I breathed air. It was always in plentiful supply — my parents, my friends, my...

PROLOGUE "You know what your problem is?" Gatlin bit out. "You're too damn naïve. Not everything in life is all butterflies and sunshine Kylie." "And do you know what your problem is?" Kylie shot back. "You're too damn jaded. You wouldn't know happiness if it bit you in the ass," she continued. "You're content being miserable — and I'm going to leave you to that because it has no place in my world of butterflies and sunshine," she ended, storming past Gatlin. His arm snaked out and grabbed her. "Let go … of … me," Kylie bit out as she fought against her rising tide of passion. Gatlin's heat-seeking tongue melted her last bit of resistance. Kylie dug her hands into his thick, dark hair. Gatlin slowed his assault on her mouth, moving to the golden column of her neck. "No, no, no … stop. Stop Gatlin," her words slowly penetrated his aroused state. "This doesn't solve anything," she said, tears rolling down her cheeks. It's never been our problem … and it won't be our salvation." Shaking off his desire to focus as best as he could, Gatlin responded, "It's a damn good place to start," and reached for her again. "Gatlin stop!" Kylie yelled. "Don’t you see? This is just another way for you to not deal with your real feelings. … I'm looking for real, lasting, soul-connecting love; not some casual roll in the hay!" "You know you mean more to me than just a roll in the hay," Gatlin said. "I really care about you Kylie." "I love you Gatlin. And I know it's not something a modern woman is supposed to say so early in a relationship. But there it is. And I don't expect you to do anything or say anything. I just wanted you to know where I'm coming from." "In my world, love is not complicated. Difficult at times? Yes. But hard? No. You're absolutely right, I do believe in butterflies and sunshine. I believe in love — and I won't let anybody make me feel bad about that or take that away from me." "The thing is, I know you love me too. But you just won't let yourself trust that what we have is real. And I refuse to spend my life trying to prove it to you." "Stop hitting my mom!" Gatlin yelled, jumping in front of his mother to prevent his father from landing another blow. "This is between your mother and me boy!" his father said in his drunken slur. "Go to your room. I'm ok honey." "I'm not leaving you," Gatlin cried, his seven-year-old voice cracking with fear as he tried to drag his mom from the room. As his father prepared to land another blow, Gatlin kicked him in the groin. He doubled over in pain, shouting, "You miserable little piece of shit! I'll kill you for this!" Gatlin's mother ran to his side. "Honey are you alright? " she said, wiping blood from the side of her lip with one hand while she consoled his father with the other. Gatlin had mentally catalogued hundreds of these memories from his childhood. But this particular one stuck with him vividly. He realized why when Kylie said, "I believe in love and I won't let anybody take that away from me." When his mother had gone to his father to comfort him, instead of coming to him, a frightened 7-year-old, he realized the power of love. His mother had loved his father beyond all rhyme and reason — even beyond her child. He didn't realize it, but that had been the moment he'd stopped believing in love. Love hurt. It was cruel. It wasn't kind. It was loyal to the wrong people. Can Kylie trust that what's between them will blossom into everlasting love, or will Gatlin's painful past always be a barrier to their happily ever after?

Chapter 1: The First Time He slid his hand down into the most private part of her, parting her flesh there and deftly swirling his fingers back and forth over her most sensitive part until she could barely breathe. Janey closed her eyes and rolled her head from side to side on the crisp white pillow. How did it get this far? She knew that if she didn’t stop him now, there was no turning back. Her hand shook as she put pressure on his in an effort to push it away from her very center. The sound of her own passion roaring in her ears told her it was a lost cause. Redmond’s lips found hers, gently at first – matching the rhythm of his kiss to the stroking of his fingers between her legs. He deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue further and further into the warm cavern of her mouth. The hand on the most intimate part of her followed suit, thrusting deeper and deeper into her. Janey writhed against him, unable to stand the twin assaults on her mouth and her womanhood. The last vestiges of the wall she’d built to protect herself from wanting him escaped her and she gave in to the passion, begging him to become one with her. She longed to feel the thickness of him inside her, to fulfill the promise of what his lips and hands had awakened within her. Then he stopped – everything – the kiss, the swirling of fingers between her legs. For a second, Janey was confused. Her doe-shaped eyes, which had been fused shut by the swell of passion, popped open. And there – before her – was Redmond. Her entire vision was filled with him. Locked in a desire-filled stare, she took in the sheen of perspiration on his forehead, the pulse beating at the side of his temple, the moistness of his lips – and most visibly – the craving in his eyes. It was as if this was what he wanted. He wanted her to open her eyes and see how much he wanted her – and for her to acknowledge how much she wanted him. Holding her gaze – and without saying a word, Redmond lowered his head to take her lips once again. Softly, slowly, masterfully. The fingers between her legs started their sensuous assault again and he gently lowered his body to cover hers. He withdrew his hand from her center and slowly climbed on top of her, parting her legs as he continued to stare intently at her. Janey sensed his restraint as he slowly slid his manhood into the opening of her moist womanhood. She tensed at first, unaccustomed to the size of him. He sensed her momentary discomfort and cradled the back of her head with one hand while sliding the other under her right buttock. Whispering in his native language in her left ear, the sound of his deep, melodic voice soothed her, while he slid his length slowly and steadily into her. In and out, out and in he slid into the damp depth of her. Janey felt her body relax and close around him ... With his hand pressing powerfully into her buttock, she moved her hips. With her body responding so perfectly and sinuously to his, Redmond could no longer control his strokes. He drove into her again and again, taking everything she had to give – and wanting more. Janey tightened around him, as he whispered in her ear and drew her tightly to him. Although she didn’t understand a word of what he said, she knew they were words he’d never repeat to her in English. They felt too personal, too raw – too exposed. And for all the passion their physical selves had just shared, Janey instinctively felt that there were parts of him he’d never share. Chapter 2: The Struggle to Forget How apropos, Janey thought, that the memory of the first time they made love also shone a bright light on why their relationship would never work. Everyone important to her had warned her about a relationship with Redmond. And consciously, she knew they were probably right. So why couldn’t she forget him? Why did he dominate her every waking hour? It all seemed so right. So what made it so wrong?

PROLOGUE What if you lost the love of your life, and they came back to you? Would you know how to grab ahold of a second chance – and make it work? Zeke did, and he wouldn't screw it up this time. . . . "It can't be; my eyes are playing tricks on me … Brooke Lakelyn Tobias. That really is you!" At the use of her full name, which very few people knew, Brooke turned. She was thinking the same thing, It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. She'd know that deep baritone anywhere. Zeke Laird Granger. He'd broken her heart five years ago, and had nearly broken her. . . . "Our timing is just not right, Brooke." "But I love you, Zeke," she said, blinking back tears and trying to swallow past the lump in her throat. "I love you so much. We can find a way; if two people really love each other, they can always find a way. Please, please, just …" she begged. "I'm sorry. I just can't do this right now. I think it's best we just go our separate ways, Brooke." The sun streamed through the windows of her fourth-floor apartment. But all she felt was darkness, as black as the bowels of hell. "Zeke please, please don't do this!" In spite of hear tearful pleas, Zeke walked to the front door of her apartment, opened it and walked out of her life. He didn't even look back, she thought through gulping sobs. Not once. Brooke crumbled down the inside of the front door of the apartment, her body pooled in the fetal position on the floor. Heaving, animal-like moans escaped her until there were no tears left. Three hours later, eyes swollen and throat parched, she'd dragged herself up from the floor, took a sip of water and climbed into bed – where she stayed for the next three days. . . . Every time she relived that day, Brooke was embarrassed. She'd been a sniveling, begging, broken shell of a woman. No one in her life today would have recognized the person she was five years ago. She barely recognized that person. "Well what brings you back to the Big Apple?" Zeke asked, snapping her reverie. . . . Damn she was more beautiful than ever! An exercise enthusiast, her body was always in perfect shape. Her best asset, in his opinion, was her perfectly curved bottom. He never tired of looking at it, and as they always slept in the nude, he would admire it as she bounced out of bed each morning. His nature starting to rise at the turn his thoughts took, Zeke forced his mind back to the conversation, saying, "What brings you back? Are you here to stay, or just visiting?" "I'm back for good. LA just wasn't my scene." "I knew it ... You're a New York City kind of girl." I can't believe he has the balls to stand here and have a conversation with me like nothing happened. Doesn't he know he almost destroyed me? "Speaking of scenes, how about we check out some in the greatest city in the world sometime?" Zeke said, anxious not to let her go without knowing when he'd see her again. Did he just ask me out? Brooke thought. The unmitigated gall of the man! It took all of Brooke's resolve to carry on a civil conversation with Zeke. It had been five years since they'd seen each other, but now that she was back in his presence, it seemed like five minutes. She was shaken by how forcefully all the pain he'd caused her came rushing back. But she wasn't the naïve little 25-year-old she'd been then. "Sure, Zeke." He's interested and that puts the ball squarely in my court -- and he would pay dearly for the pain he'd caused her. While Brooke plotted revenge, Zeke had a different plan in mind. Now that she was back, he vowed he wouldn't make the same mistake twice. He would win her back … and this time it would be for keeps. Can his love overcome the revenge she seeks, or will the scar left by Zeke's betrayal prevent them from ever having a future?