"Sexy and dangerous - a perfect reading combination!" - Cynthia Eden, New York Times & USA Today bestselling author
"Thomas delivers a sexy, smart and emotion-packed thriller that will have you begging for her next book." - Bestselling author HelenKay Dimon
In this first novel in the explosive, brand-new romantic suspense Sons of Broad series from Tara Thomas comes a novel of deadly secrets and hidden danger. In the sultry streets of Charleston, one family, ruled by its powerful, take-no-prisoners sons, has risen to the top. But a merciless enemy is out to destroy them…and everyone they hold close…
SHE THOUGHT SHE’D LOST HIM FOREVER
Tilly Brock has learned—the hard way—how to take care of herself. Once a pillar of Charleston society, her family lost everything in the wake of a shocking scandal. And then Tilly lost the only boy she ever loved.
BUT NOW THAT HE’S BACK IN HER LIFE
Keaton Benedict is Charleston’s most notorious bachelor. But in spite of all his advantages—the money, the women, the family name—he longs for more: the heart of the young woman he still can’t forget.
THE DANGER HAS JUST BEGUN…
When Keaton re-enters Tilly’s life, after all these years, she is torn between feelings of doubt and desire. Can they put the past behind them and learn to love again? Tilly is willing to try. But Keaton is afraid that a vengeful enemy is watching—and waiting to destroy them. Can the rekindled flame of their love defeat the deadliest rival and light their way forward in the darkest night?
Tara Thomas’s love of books and writing started as a child and though she wanted to be an author, she decided a degree in science was more practical. After fifteen years in the pharmaceutical industry, she returned to her first love and hasn’t looked back since.
She writes erotic romance as Tara Sue Me. Her Submissive Series novels have been on both the New York Times and USA Today Bestseller lists. Her novel The Master earned a starred review from Publishers Weekly and was awarded Best Romance of 2016 from Best Book Awards.
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Website: https://thetarathomas.com/
Two scantily clad women strutted out onto the stage.
Keaton was too far away to see details. All he could make
out were tiny bikini tops and even tinier thongs. Blondes. And pretty enough to
make any red-blooded man fantasize about ripping the scraps of fabric off them.
A movement to the side of the stage caught his eye. A server. He only saw her
profile, but there was something about her.
He slid off the barstool to get a closer look.
“Hey, man,” Michael called after him. “Where are you going?”
Keaton didn’t reply.
“Where’s Benedict going?” he heard someone ask. “He’s
interested in a dancer? Here?” someone else asked.
Keaton shook his head; it wasn’t a dancer that captured his
attention. He wasn’t a stranger to the numerous clubs around the city that catered
to wealthy men and their carnal needs. However, he’d never singled out any
particular woman while at one. After all, he’d al- ways said, one half-naked
woman was just as good as another. As made evident by the number of times his
picture was in the society pages, but never with the same woman twice.
And yet, here he was, eyes fixed on the petite waitress at
the side of the stage, currently trying to blend into the background and not
take away from the duo on the stage. It was a horrible failure. He wasn’t sure
why the management even felt the need to put anyone onstage with her working
here. How could anyone look at those two with her in the room?
She moved with a grace that made the two blondes look like
ducks swimming alongside a swan. She stretched out her hand to pass a glass to
a man sitting on the far inside of a booth. Everyone in her vicinity turned to
watch her lithe body.
“Drooling over a topless dancer?” Michael asked, coming up
behind him. “I have to say, I’m a bit surprised. They look a bit rough.”
“Not a dancer,” Keaton let slip before he could stop
himself.
Michael moved to stand beside him and followed his line of
sight. His low whistle signaled he saw the woman in question. “Hot damn. Wait
until a certain blonde hears about this. I’m sure Miss Elise Germain will love
the fact that her intended is drooling over a half-naked barmaid.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Keaton didn’t shift his attention from
the goddess taking drink orders. “I’m not engaged.” “Please,” Michael’s voice
dripped with sarcasm. “You two have been promised to each since you were what?
Fifteen?”
Keaton mumbled a curse under his breath, but right now, he
couldn’t focus on anything other than the serving siren. It sounded so crazy,
he couldn’t even verbalize it, but he thought he knew her from somewhere. Some-
thing about the way she moved called to him. Pulled him forward for a better
look.
He took another step toward her.
She was magnificent. And the way she moved continued to
captivate the audience near her. Keaton’s eyes traveled over her body, taking
in as many details as possible: her light brown skin, the curve of her hips,
and the slope of her breasts covered by a tight cropped shirt. He knew they
would be oh-so-soft to touch. His eyes drifted higher at the same time she turned
her head his way and he froze.
Tilly.
He couldn’t breathe. It couldn’t be.
What was she doing in Charleston? The last he’d heard, her
family had moved to Texas. Granted, they’d both been fourteen at the time, but
he’d never forgot- ten the day he’d got home from school, walked into the
eerily quiet kitchen, and discovered his life had changed forever.
Tilly always came over to his house after school to help him
with his homework. Usually her mother would come over with her and gossip with
his mom. But there was nothing that day. He’d looked out the back door to get a
peek of their house and gasped. There were men all over the yard, carrying
furniture.
He’d run back inside and up the stairs to his mother’s room
and, with a stomach filled with dread, asked where Mama Ann and Tilly were. His
mother arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. She didn’t like that her children
called their neighbor Mama Ann, but every- one called her that. It was just her
personality. She was so kind and loving, the name came naturally.
“They’re moving to Texas,” she said, and his world shifted
out of focus.
“Why?” he managed to croak out. Texas was so far away. It
made no sense why they would move away from their family like that and so
suddenly.
“It’s been discovered
that Mr. Brock has been embezzling money from your father.”
“What?” He couldn’t believe it. Not Tilly’s dad. He was
stealing from them? Something didn’t sound right. His mother gave him a sad
smile. “I’m afraid he was caught red-handed. The Brock family’s basically
ruined now. Best they move and try to start over.”
His parents had always joked that he and Tilly would get
married one day. Everyone talked about it and he didn’t even care because Tilly
was smart and pretty. The week before, he’d kissed her for the first time. Her
lips had been soft and sweet, and he’d looked forward to kissing them over and
over. How could he kiss her if she were in Texas?
“Your father’s going to promote Howard Germain.
Isn’t his daughter in your class, too?”
Elise. Tilly’s best friend. Or was. He felt sick. He mumbled
a half-intelligible answer to his mom and ran down the stairs to the living
room. He had to call Tilly. Had to talk to her, even if it was only to say
good-bye. But their phone had already been disconnected and when he went to their
house, the men moving all the furniture told him they’d already left.
…
Tilly Brock put on her best plastic smile and muttered a
soft, “Excuse me, please,” to the man blocking her path to her customer. She
recognized the move for what it was: an attempt to make her reach across him. Two more months. Two more months. She
grit her teeth and made sure the men saw just enough of her cleavage as she
handed the drink to the waiting customer.
“Thank you, darling,” he said, eyes firmly planted on her
chest, never once looking her in the eyes. “Why ain’t someone as pretty as you
up onstage?”
Like she didn’t hear that ten times a night. Her mother
might not roll over in her grave at the thought of her daughter serving drinks
at a gentlemen’s club, but Tilly knew she’d come back from the dead for the
sole purpose of telling her how disappointed she was if she even thought about
dancing topless.
“Two left feet,” she told the guy instead.
“Trust me.” His laugh gave her chills. “It ain’t your feet
we’re interested in.”
Two more months. I can
do two more months.
Onstage, the dance was almost over. One of the blond twins
glared at her and in doing so, tripped and almost fell. Several men booed. The
other twin shot her a look that told Tilly they were blaming everything on her.
Oh well, what else was new. It wasn’t a day that ended in “y” if she didn’t
piss off the Wonder Twins.
She gathered several empty glasses and nodded as a few drink
orders were given. Her tray was heavy, but she thought she could make it back
to the bar. She turned that way and suddenly felt someone’s eyes drilling holes
into her from the back of the room. Out of habit, she lifted her head to try
and find who was watching her so intensely.
She scanned the crowd, but no one looked out of place. Then
she saw him, standing slightly off to the side, watching her with an easy confidence,
but with a tilt of his head that somehow seemed familiar. He recognized her at
the same instant she recognized him.
Keaton Benedict.
Her tray and glasses fell to the floor.
Copyright © 2018 by
Tara Thomas and reprinted by permission of St. Martin’s Press.
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