Synopsis
Reputable fine art broker Sophie Graystone has a knack for acquiring one-of-a-kind artifacts. A seasoned professional, she marches to the beat of her own drum and takes direction from no one.
Lt. Dagan “Rebel” Caldwell, ex-Army Ranger and investigator for Alpha Four, is driven by an iron will to succeed and is talented in the ability to convince others to conform. He soon learns that he has met his match in one certain female.
Assigned to investigate several attempted thefts of Sophie’s paintings, Rebel’s skill and talent are sorely tested when Sophie challenges him at every turn, aggravating and arousing him in the process. Desperate to get his man, Rebel uses her rebellion as a secret weapon, hoping to win her heart in the process.
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Guest Post
Greetings from the hot and humid state of Oklahoma! My name is Mia Dymond and I write sexy contemporary romance novels with a twist of sass. I currently have fourteen novels available on retailers including iBooks, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Amazon, and Smashwords.
My most recent release is Treasure Me, Book in the Alpha Four series. Alpha Four is a tough, no-nonsense group of ex-Army Rangers with muscles of stone and hearts of gold. Book one is the story of Lt. Dagan “Rebel” Caldwell and Sophie Graystone, a couple who clashes at every turn with the need for control. I hope you’ll enjoy the rocky journey they travel to fall in love. Please enjoy an excerpt:
Once Rebel held two steaming cups of coffee, he headed back to the table and sat beside her. Much to his relief, she wasted no time in touching him. She wrapped one hand around her cup, and wrapped the other around his forearm, her fingers drawing lazy circles against his skin.
“I’m curious,” she said as her fingers taunted the nerves beneath his skin, “how did you get your nickname?”
He chuckled low under his breath. Curiosity was a good start.
“Curious, huh?”
She nodded.
“I’ve never been one to follow protocol.”
“In the Army?”
“In life. I enlisted in an act of rebellion.”
“Is that a decision you regret?”
“Not in the least. Thunder, Chaos, and Ace made it all worthwhile.”
“You guys are close.”
“Family.”
“I take it there are several stories behind those nicknames too.”
He nodded without elaboration.
“So,” she prompted, “tell me about your team.”
“Can’t do that.”
“Why?”
“Confidential. I’d have to silence you if I told you and I’m not sure that’s possible.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m confident you’d find a way to challenge my methods.”
“You’d be disappointed if I didn’t.”
He snickered, aroused as hell by the fact that she didn’t hesitate before she fired right back at him. No doubt, she’d challenge him alright and she was absolutely correct when she responded – disappointed didn’t begin to describe his feelings.
“Thunder assembled Alpha Four when he retired from the Army. It only took three phone calls to build a team.”
“The four of you are very loyal.”
He nodded. “There’s just something about fighting evil that brings a team together.”
“Do you think about it often?”
He hesitated, weighing the decision to answer her. He’d seen a whole lot of evil during his military tours, things that he’d never share with her. Yet, thanks to Uncle Sam and Thunder, he’d learned to file it so far away that even memory couldn’t find it.
He glanced down at her fingers, still rubbing circles on his forearm and distracting him from answering her question. Her soft, gentle touch caused the nerves under his skin to quiver with excitement. What in the hell had she asked?
“Sophie?”
“Hmmm?”
“I can’t concentrate when you do that.”
Her brow furrowed. “Do what?”
He glanced down at her fingers. “That. You’re driving me crazy.”
“Oh, really?”
Before he could stop himself, he nodded. Oh. Hell. So much for never let them see you sweat. He’d pretty much just handed her a whole locker of ammunition.
“Well, then.” She blinked those deep, dark eyelashes several times as her fingers continued their assault. “Perhaps you should answer my question.”
“No.”
“No?”
“I mean, no I don’t think about the evils in my past often. Alpha Four gives me plenty to think about.”
“Are you in danger?”
“Not always. Sometimes our assignments are as mundane as installing a security system.”
“Other times you put your life on the line for someone else.”
“Yes.”
“Like me.”
“Well, no one’s tried to kill you …. yet.” He gave her hand a slight squeeze, buying a second of courage for his next comment. “But I’d put my life on the line for you without a second thought.”
I hope you’ll enjoy Treasure Me! Happy Reading!!!
CHAPTER ONE
Take
that, sucker!
Sophie Graystone issued the silent jab as
she raised her auction paddle, winked at the auctioneer, and desperately tried
to maintain her composure. Five hundred thousand dollars was a chunk of change
– even for a Henri DuBois painting. Yet, Mrs. Vanderbuilt didn’t take no for an answer and when she wanted
something, she didn’t blink an eyelash at the cost – all the more reason for
Sophie to win the bid.
Sitting with one leg crossed over the
other, she drew tiny circles in the air with the toe of her shoe while she
glanced around the room. The most elite auction venue in Everglade Springs , Florida
She turned her attention back to the action
while she waited on pins and needles, straining to hear if someone would make
another bid while the auctioneer rattled numbers over his tongue. Anxiety
knotted the nerves in the back of her neck and she fought the urge to turn and
look behind her to see if she could match a face to the voice who had earlier
run the cost up to this ridiculous amount. Demand for Henri Dubois paintings
was high and winning a bid could be brutal. She took a deep breath and braced
herself for whatever happened next.
And then the auctioneer paused.
Going
once. She pursed her lips.
Going
twice. Slowly, she let the air seep out of her
lips.
“Sold to bidder number thirty two!”
When the thud of the gavel vibrated her eardrums, Sophie forced the
remaining air from her lips and smiled. Mrs. Vanderbuilt wouldn’t be
disappointed.
Tension began to leak from her muscles as
she relaxed back against her chair, relieved that she’d been able to acquire
the Henri DuBois painting. The new and upcoming artist had taken the art world
by storm during the last few months with his colorful masterpieces of
contemporary abstract art. His use of bold and bright colors and abstract
shapes seemed to strike a chord with his buyers and rocket him into popularity
overnight. The painting being auctioned today was one of her personal
favorites.
Titled Angry,
the vivid shades of orange, yellow and red dominated the canvas, the strokes
thick, tall and intimidating. Although the naked eye could not immediately
determine a clear-cut explanation of the picture, art collectors seemed to
appreciate the opportunity to draw their own conclusions. Her own mind chose to
interpret the painting as a blazing fire, the flames hungry as they devoured
the canvas.
Today’s piece had been extremely difficult
to track down and it was only her stellar reputation that afforded her an
auction paddle. One of the artist’s first paintings, it had just recently
become part of an estate and the heirs were more interested in the monetary
worth than in the artistic value.
Sophie stood and made her way to the
security booth where she would pay for the painting and then take possession.
Her accomplishment made her smile. She had worked hard to make her art studio, Treasure Me, a reputable business – one
that made obtaining an almost impossible artifact, possible.
“Congratulations, Miss Graystone.”
She smiled and handed her paddle to the
auction coordinator. “Thanks, Carl. Mrs. Vanderbuilt had her eye on this one.”
“Ellen has a beautiful collection.”
“She does,” Sophie agreed as he handed her
several pieces of paper.
“Did you know she attended Oxford University
“I had no idea!”
Carl pressed a button below the counter
just before she heard the buzz that signaled that the door to the Acquisitions
Room had been unlocked.
“Ask her sometime,” he said as he opened
the gate to allow her entry. “I’m sure she’d be glad to elaborate.”
“I will. Thanks, Carl.”
Sophie entered the Acquisitions Room and
handed her paperwork to the guard. As soon as she held the cherished painting,
she headed to the rear door, specifically placed for discreet exits and secured
by an additional guard.
“Would you like an escort, Miss Graystone?”
“No thank you, John. I’m parked close.”
Sophie stepped out the door and blinked
several times in the bright sunlight before walking the short distance to her
pearl-white Lexus four-door. She had just shifted the painting to one side to
allow herself to reach for the door handle when a shadow moved over the
driver’s window.
The hair stood on the back of her neck and
oxygen let the air as she felt pressure on the tops of her shoulders.
“Don’t move and you won’t get hurt.”
In the next moment of extreme panic, she
concluded the low-pitched voice was male and that the man with his hands on her
shoulders had a strong grip – one that she knew she most likely would not be
able to escape. She stood deathly still, buying time to analyze his motive.
Although he hadn’t yet voiced his intention, she was pretty sure he wanted the
painting and she was bound and determined not to give it to him. She clenched
the painting closer to her body and came to a quick decision. If her conclusion
was correct that he was male, she might possibly have the upper hand.
Adrenaline bubbled in her veins and gave
her superhuman strength as Sophie inhaled a deep breath and then sprang into
action. She balled her right fist and flung her arm backwards, satisfied when
it connected with flesh.
“Bitch!” her attacker spat.
Pressure left her shoulders and blood
rushed to the previously-squeezed area. Bitch? Who attacked whom?
She bit her bottom lip, determined to show
him the mistake of attacking her. She swung the same fist that she used to get
his attention seconds ago, this time downward and in direct contact with a
particular muscle between his legs. And, there was no mistake that she made
exact contact when he issued an extremely vulgar string of expletives.
Convinced he was incapacitated, she turned to face him.
Obviously in pain, he had already turned
his back to her and, all things considered, made a rather hasty retreat. She
quickly climbed into the driver’s seat and pressed the button to lock the
doors. Her heart pounded like jungle drums as she grabbed her cell phone from
her pocket and dialed the number that would summon help.
***
Shielded by dim light in the sports bar’s
interior, Lt. Dagan “Rebel” Caldwell sat with the rest of his team around a
corner table and tossed back a swallow of beer while he glanced around the
room. Feisty’s, their usual stomping
ground was crowded, just like any other night. Several big screen televisions
hung over the long, oak bar in the center, broadcasting a variety of sporting
events. Waitresses clad in short shorts and tight tops that left little to the
imagination served alcohol to big tippers. He smirked. Only his captain would
bring them here to discuss business.
“I got a phone call from Senator Graystone
about an hour ago.” Cpt. Beck “Thunder” Raines glanced at each of the men
around the table as he thumped his beer bottle. “Seems his daughter needs our
help.”
“A damsel in distress?” Sgt. Jace “Chaos”
Taylor raised an eyebrow. “I’m in.”
“Of course you are.” Rebel shook his head,
not surprised by his teammate’s quick agreement. The man had a true
appreciation for all things female and gave chaos
a whole new meaning. Yet, few people knew that the ladies’ man had a knack
for destruction – you name it, Chaos blew it up.
“Must be serious if the Senator called.”
His last teammate, Sgt. Gage “Ace” Moore, sat forward in his chair with a look
of utter anticipation. Rebel knew from experience that once the sniper honed in
on a mission, he was all in. “Blackmail?”
“No.” Thunder shook his head. “She was
attacked outside an art auction.”
Rebel frowned, partly because he hated men
who took advantage of women and mostly because he had no idea the Senator even
had a daughter. The larger than life politician had been in office ever since
he could remember. How had he managed to keep his daughter out of the public
eye? Better yet, why didn’t she have a personal bodyguard?
“Do we have a suspect?”
“No.”
“Sounds like something Everglade Springs PD
could handle. Why us?”
“Too much publicity.”
“Security is tight at those things. How did
he get away?”
“Luck – apparently she put up a fight.
Elbowed him in the nose then went straight for the jewels. He took off running,
empty handed.”
“My kind of woman.” Chaos chuckled.
Still intrigued, Rebel attempted to put
together the puzzle. “So he was after the painting?”
“The Senator isn’t convinced the perp
wanted the painting.” Thunder lifted his bottle, swallowed a drink of beer, and
then returned it to the table. “He’s sure his daughter was the target.”
Ace frowned. “So we’re on bodyguard
detail?”
“Not yet. He wants our take on the
situation.” Thunder glanced at him. “I told him you’d be there this evening.”
Rebel nodded. “She’s female. Sure you don’t
want to send Chaos?”
“Nah. You have a rapport with money –
you’ll blend right in.”
He grinned at Thunder’s explanation.
Sometimes his status as an oil baron’s grandson gave him an advantage – an
advantage everywhere except combat. He tipped his bottle, swallowed the
contents, and then set the empty vessel on the table.
“I’ll see what I can find out. Anything
else I need to know?”
Thunder smirked, something the Captain
never did – unless you were screwed. “You may need body armor.”
“I’ve seen action, Captain. I think I can
handle it.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Point taken.” He stood and pushed the
chair next to the table. “I’ll report as soon as I’m done.”
Thunder nodded. “Tuck and roll, soldier, tuck
and roll.”
***
He
drummed his fingers against the desk as he waited impatiently for the call,
annoyed by the amount of time that passed. Time was of the essence and the
delay could cost him. Irritation squeezed the muscles in his neck while he gave
the phone a cold, hard stare as if giving it an ultimatum – ring or else. He
jumped when his singing object answered his silent demand.
“I
hope you have good news,” he said by way of introduction.
“No.
There was a slight complication.”
Annoyance
wrinkled his brow. “Complication?”
“Yeah.”
His associate released a hard breath. “Damn broad nearly broke my nose and my
nuts are on fire.”
“What
exactly does that have to do with the operation?”
“She
got away.”
He
ran a hand down his jaw, incredibly pissed off to hear that declaration. “Can
she identify you?”
“I
don’t think so. I took her from behind and once she assaulted me, I got the
hell out of dodge.”
“You’re
going to have to try again. Failure is not an option.”
“I
don’t know, man. She’s a firecracker. I’m not sure it’s worth the bounty.”
“It’s
worth it, believe me. You and I both stand to make a substantial profit.”
“I
need to lay low for a day or so. I’ll contact you when I’m on the move.”
“The
sooner, the better.”
“I
told you, I need some downtime.”
Anger
boiled his blood. “Suck it up and put a bag of ice on your balls! Did you hit
your head? We don’t have that kind of time! Either you finish the job or I’ll
find someone who can.”
A
slight pause on the line told him the other man was most likely weighing his options.
With patience he certainly didn’t feel, he waited for a response.
“I’ll
call you in the morning,” his associate said finally.
“Good.
I’ll have all the information you need.”
***
Sophie sat in her childhood living room and
snuggled back into the comforting fabric of her favorite Queen Anne chair while
she released a long breath. There had been no hesitation to run straight to her
parents and their umbrella of protection after the morning’s events. Being the
only child of Senator and Mrs. Graystone afforded her their undying attention –
sometimes positive, and others, negative.
Guilt pinched her as her father paced, his
long stride nearly wearing holes in the floor. Yet, the repercussions would’ve
been much worse had she not come home.
She shifted her gaze to her mother who sat
in a matching chair on the other side of the table between them. Sophie had
been accused of being Alana Graystone’s twin sister rather than her daughter
and she was fairly sure their current mannerisms mirrored each other. Her mother’s
arms rested against the chair’s arms, as did hers, with her eyes trained on her
husband’s movement. She then caught the subtle twitch of her mother’s lips –
the one that threatened to loosen her tongue and scold her father for jumping
to conclusions – the same twitch Sophie currently repressed.
Her mother’s gaze finally met hers and her
perfectly-lined lips split into a reassuring smile. Sophie smiled back. Mom had
the situation under control.
“Edward, please relax. Sophie is fine and
reinforcement is on the way.”
The Senator stopped pacing and released a
heavy breath. “Things could’ve gone very differently.”
“Yes,” her mother agreed, “but they didn’t.
You prepared Sophie well and she handled the situation nicely.”
Her father gave a small grin. “That’s my
girl.”
Sophie grinned back. Not only had he taught
her several methods of self-defense, he had arrived personally at the auction
when she called for help. Security wanted to call the police but Senator
Graystone had other ideas.
“Who are we meeting, Dad?”
“Dagan Caldwell.”
“A private investigator?”
“In a roundabout way. He works with a
private company here in Everglade Springs.”
“A policeman?”
“No, military.”
“Do you really think an investigation is
necessary?”
“Absolutely,” her father said abruptly.
Her mother reached to pat her hand. “We
only want to assure your safety, Sophie.”
“I know, Mom.” Sophie gave her mother’s
hand a squeeze.
She settled back in her chair, her intent
to relax interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Seconds later, she heard the
housekeeper open the door and then footsteps across the tile. Heavy, methodical
footsteps. Both nerves and insane curiosity caused her stand.
Sophie drew in a quick breath at the man
who entered the room and commenced to turn her knees to jelly. Eyes as blue as
the Caribbean held her gaze as he sauntered
the distance between them with a distinct air of confidence. His
shoulder-length black hair hung loose, brushing the sharp creases of his
long-sleeved, white dress shirt and taunted her fingers to play in the depths.
She moved her gaze downward, over his broad
shoulders, and then paused on the small gap in the neck of his shirt that
exposed a smooth patch of skin on his chest. Her tongue swiped her lower lip as
she found herself insanely curious about what else lie beneath that pesky
shirt.
She counted seven buttons as she forced her
gaze further down to his lean hips and then to the denim that covered his lower
body. Military man, her father had said. She gave a mental chuckle. The only
evidence of military on this man was the black combat boots on his feet.
“Sophia.” Her father’s voice held a
distinct note of reprimand. “This is Lt. Dagan Caldwell.”
Thankful for the excuse to touch him, she
held out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Caldwell.”
The moment he took her hand, butterflies
fluttered in her stomach and she didn’t need a mirror to see that her cheeks
were rosy red.
“Rebel,” he answered. “My father is Mr. Caldwell and only my mother uses Dagan.”
Suddenly his appearance made perfect sense
and she found herself severely tempted to find out exactly how rebellious he
was.
“Rebel.” She gave his hand a soft squeeze.
“Sophie Graystone.”
While Rebel stood with Sophie’s hand in
his, he practiced great self-discipline to keep from yanking her against him
and showing her just exactly how nice it
was to meet her. Damn, the petite, brunette bombshell stroked his libido with
her gentle grip. Unable to help himself, he tightened his hold in an attempt to
touch her a few minutes longer.
He took advantage of the extra time to take
in her appearance. Eyes as dark as his favorite chocolate bar stared at him and
there was no disputing the arousal in the depths, sparkling back at him. Long,
brunette hair hung over her shoulders and teased the tops of her full, tight,
breasts with the curled ends. A slim abdomen let to a trim waist and rounded
hips upon which his hands could rest perfectly. She was short, he would guess
there was about a foot between them, but her legs were shapely, sexy and long
enough to wrap his waist.
Holy
God. His cock jumped in the confines of his pants
and he shifted to make a discreet adjustment.
As an act of survival, he gently released
her hand. “I hear you’ve had a rough afternoon.”
“Not one of my best,” she mumbled.
The woman next to Sophie stood. “Nice to
meet you, Rebel, I’m Alana Graystone, Sophie’s mother.
Rebel took her hand, surprised by her
admitted relationship to the Senator’s daughter. He never would’ve believed it
if she hadn’t said the words herself. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Graystone.”
“Please, have a seat.” She gestured to a
sofa opposite two chairs. “May I offer you something to drink?”
“No, thank you,” he said as he sat. The
absolute last thing he needed was alcohol to loosen his lips. The Senator would
chase him out of the house with a shotgun if his inner thoughts managed to
escape.
As soon as Sophie and her mother sat in the
chairs opposite him, he glanced at Sophie. “Tell me what happened.”
He listened, enthralled by her soft tone
and lack of nervousness as she repeated the day’s events. Obviously, the woman
had nerves of steel.
“And I still have the painting,” she
finished.
“Did you get a look at the attacker?”
“No. He grabbed my shoulders from the back.
I managed to raise an arm enough to smack his face and then move it to elbow
him between the legs but I didn’t see his face. By the time he released me and
I turned around, he was headed away from the parking lot.”
“Did anyone else see what happened?”
“No one reported anything and security
didn’t see anyone suspicious when they searched the area.”
“Did you scream?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not a screamer.”
Rebel bit back a grin. That was a challenge
if he’d ever heard one. “You believe he wanted the painting?”
She nodded.
He glanced at the Senator. “But you don’t?”
“No,” the other man said without
hesitation. “Sophie’s a celebrity of sorts. I think whoever he was, he knew she
would bring more money than the art.”
“I know you’re concerned, Dad,” Sophie
interjected, “but I honestly believe this is all about the painting. Henri DuBois
is a modern-day Picasso.”
Rebel inwardly flinched. Art really wasn’t
his thing. “Are the paintings valuable?”
“Extremely. And very difficult to obtain.”
“What about today’s painting?”
“My buyer paid five hundred thousand
dollars.”
He turned back to the Senator. “She may be
right, Sir.”
“Sophie is worth more than five hundred
thousand dollars, son.”
Senator Graystone’s admission didn’t rattle
him but did raise one important question. He glanced back at Sophie. “Do you
ever take an escort with you?”
“No.”
“Any particular reason why you don’t?”
“Not really. Until today I’ve never had a
problem.”
He grinned, impressed by her obvious
independence, while he tossed things around in his brain. With her soft voice
and poised demeanor, Sophie reminded him of a gentle curtain of rain, the
droplets caressing his skin as they slid across the surface. Was she simply too
naïve to consider the possibility of danger? Both the Senator’s daughter and
the paintings were valuable. Was it coincidence that the incident occurred at
the same time she acquired the painting? Or did the perp simply see an opening
and take it?
“Do you have any idea who would want the
merchandise?”
“Everybody.”
“Who knew your itinerary?”
“The buyer, Ellen Vanderbuilt, and my
assistant.”
“What about your friends?”
She frowned. “What about them?”
“Would they have any desire for the
painting?”
“None.” Her gaze suddenly caught fire. “My
friends had nothing to do with this.”
He punched his explanation in the gut. It
was obvious to see she didn’t want to hear that most times, someone close to
the victim was involved.
“She won’t leave without an escort in the
future.”
As soon as Senator Graystone issued the
order, Rebel immediately questioned his earlier analysis. Narrowed eyes warned
him of impending danger. Oh. Hell. With
her arms still folded under her very nice, very tight, full breasts, he almost
heard the machine guns as she tapped her fingers on her arms in rapid
succession. Her chest began to rise and fall in a quick rhythm and although he
appreciated her cadence, he witnessed the mild-mannered, non-threatening
rainstorm morph into a full blown hurricane.
“Absolutely not.”
He raised an eyebrow, fascinated that she
issued the denial without raising her voice but with enough conviction that
even he hesitated to argue. The Senator however, didn’t hesitate.
“Although I’d like your cooperation Sophie,
it isn’t necessary.”
Rebel transferred his weight from one foot
to the other, ready to run interference. He had a feeling things might just get
ugly.
“Surely you remember how easily I’ve
managed to lose a shadow in the past,” she countered.
Again, he stood morbidly still, both
shocked and aroused by her soft but direct response to the Senator’s ultimatum.
This woman could play hardball – blindfolded.
“This is not a game, Sophia.” The Senator’s
voice hardened. “You are in danger and I will not let you deny it.”
“No escort,” she insisted. “I’ll take
Robert.”
Rebel frowned. Who the hell was Robert?
“Your assistant is hardly a threatening
presence,” her father scoffed. “You need a professional bodyguard.”
“We don’t even know for sure I’m in danger.
This is the one and only time I’ve ever been accosted.”
Rebel cleared his throat and dismissed the
thought of Sophie’s male assistant for the moment. “I tend to agree with her,
Senator. An escort may only make her a target.”
“Thank you, Rebel,” she said quickly.
“However, a tail won’t raise suspicion.”
“I thought you were on my side,” she
mumbled.
He shrugged. “I nixed the bodyguard.”
“I’ll compromise with the tail,” the Senator
agreed. “I’ll make a call this evening.”
He continued to hold her gaze with his,
stimulated as hell by the fire that crackled in the depths. There was no doubt
in his mind that this sexy, tiny, knockout-of-a-woman could slay giants with
one wiggle of a finger.
“No need, Sir,” he said without moving his
gaze from her inquisitive brown eyes. “I’ll accept the assignment.”
About The Author
Mia Dymond
I write contemporary romance novels with sexy, alpha males and females with attitude to boot. I live in a zoo,hold down a full time job, and am trying to coax my creative muse from her cage. So BEWARE, the madness may rub off on you! ~ Facebook
Mia Dymond
I write contemporary romance novels with sexy, alpha males and females with attitude to boot. I live in a zoo,hold down a full time job, and am trying to coax my creative muse from her cage. So BEWARE, the madness may rub off on you! ~ Facebook
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