Twins Ana and Jason, along with their cousin Nicholas, are successful thirtysomethings who are single--and loving it. They have no idea that their relatives are betting on which one of them will get married first. But by the family's New Year's Eve reunion, will all three have learned what it means to be really lucky--in love?
As CEO of Serenity Records, Ana Cole never backs down. Now the hot new recording artist she's signed has made her the target of death threats, forcing her to go into hiding. And protecting her is U.S. marshal Jacob Jones.
Jacob has better things to do on his vacation than play bodyguard. Until he gets a glimpse of the body he'll be guarding... Spending days and nights together in close quarters stokes their mutual attraction into an inferno of desire. But if Jacob can outwit a would-be assassin, will their love outlast his assignment?
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Harlequin Kimani Arabesque
July 23, 2012
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Excerpt from Summer Vows by Rochelle Alers
Los Angeles, California
Camille Nelson felt a shiver of fear snake its way up her spine when a shadow fell across her desk. She was well aware of the company rule for not eating, reading anything not related to Slow Wyne Records, and other infractions like styling hair, repairing makeup or gum chewing while at her desk. Personal telephone calls were relegated to lunch hours, and only when not seated at the desk. She'd heard that an accounting clerk had been placed on probation for talking to her mother when she'd called to check on her sick preschooler during a staff meeting.
Her head popped up and she forced a smile when she saw her boss glaring down at her. "Good morning, Mr. Irvine."
A frown marred the forehead of the CEO of Slow Wyne Records when he saw the magazine spread out on his executive assistant's desk. Earlier that morning he'd read and reread every word of the Rolling Stone magazine article on Justin Glover and he had to admit the reporter had hit the mark when he declared the young singing sensation was the second coming of the late King of Pop Michael Jackson.
"Put that away and come with me," he barked at Camille. "And bring your tools." Basil Irvine strode toward the carved double doors leading to his office, expecting her to follow him like an obedient child.
Camille gathered her steno pad and three pencils. Although her boss was only forty-three, he still hadn't come into the twenty-first century where executive assistants no longer took dictation, but transcribed their boss's notes from tape recorders. She didn't question her boss, because she needed the job. After a contentious and costly divorce Camille couldn't afford to do anything wherein she would lose her position at Slow Wyne Records. Even sleeping with Basil Irvine wasn't a guarantee that he wouldn't eventually give her a pink slip. She wasn't the first woman at the company to sleep with Basil, and she knew she wouldn't be the last.
She sat at the round table in an alcove of an office that was larger than her studio apartment, while Basil folded his stocky body down into a leather executive chair. Sunlight poured into the wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling windows behind him, reflecting off his shaved gold-brown freckled pate.
"I want you to send a letter to Ana Cole, CEO of Serenity Records. It's in Boca Raton, Florida." He waited for Camille to jot down her shorthand symbols. "Dear Ms. Cole. Everyone at Slow Wyne would like to congratulate Serenity Records for the successful launch of Justin Glover's first album. Mr. Glover's musical talent and success impacts the entire industry, and I'm certain it will usher in a new era with a fusion of musical genres." He paused, his gray eyes narrowing. "Use my usual closing." Unlocking a drawer, Basil handed her a flash drive when she approached his desk. "And Camille," he added when she turned to leave, "don't forget office rules apply to you, too."
Smiling, she nodded. "Yes, Mr. Irvine. It won't happen again."
Leaning back in his chair, Basil glared at her. "I know it won't--that is if you want to continue to work here."
Camille nodded as she walked out of the opulent office, softly closing the door behind her. What her boss didn't know was that she would've handed in her resignation a week after he'd hired her if she didn't need the money. Working for and sleeping with a record executive was a lot better than swinging around a pole in a gentlemen's club, where she'd had to put up with men pawing her just because they'd slipped her a few dollars. And when she'd finally made it to...