Why Jace Chantiers is the sexiest man alive and how I got to spend New Year’s Eve with him . . . oh, yeah #NewYearsEve
Every female in London must have a copy pasted to her bedpost. I didn’t know who he was until I got on board the airbus after he blew me away with his offer to give me a free ticket home to San Francisco.
Me, Kacie Bennett.
Don’t get the wrong idea. He’s just trying to help me. Seems Megan, my youngest sister, threw a hissy fit when her jock boyfriend left her behind when he went off to college. But that was no reason for her to run away from home to marry the first guy who asked her. A real creep, but that’s another story.
I want to talk about Jace Chantiers.
God, the man reeks masculinity from every pore. He’s built like a rock with shoulders so broad I swear the seams on his expensive suit are ready to rip apart. Handsome, rugged looks. He smells good, too. Spicy but with an undertone of citrus that makes me want to lean over and inhale him.
Not that I would. I’m a good girl. I run the family B&B: Bennett’s Bed & Breakfast, but the locals call it The 3 Bees. No hanky panky for me. Especially 30,000 feet up in the air. How I got here is a story in itself…
Gotta go. He’s making his play…rubbing his knee against mine. Giving me that look he’s famous for on the tabloid cover…taking off his suit jacket…damn, he’s opening his shirt. Oh, my God. His chest is muscular and bronze just like in the photo. He’s cupping my chin in his hand, his lips brushing mine…
Uh-oh, I think I’m about to find out why Jace Chantiers is the sexiest man alive…
Will Kacie be able to resist the sexiest man alive?
Come Fly with Me is the story about a bad boy billionaire who hooks up with a lonely good girl on New Year’s Eve at 30,000 feet in the air where…
Anything can happen.
Come Fly with Me on New Year’s Eve . . . with a sexy billionaire as we count down to midnight #NewYearsEve
The holidays are all about family…and the gorgeous hero in COME FLY WITH ME, my sexy New Year’s Eve contemp, doesn’t have anyone…poor baby, I mean, billionaire. Jace Chantiers is a sucker for a pretty woman, so when he overhears Kacie Bennett begging the airline ticket agent to get her a seat…any seat…on the last flight out of London on New Year’s Eve, he buys her a first class ticket home.
The woman was trouble. An itch up his backside he shouldn’t scratch, but he did. Strange, but Jace was enjoying himself more than he had in a long time. She stoked a fire in his belly that didn’t go straight to his dick but to his brain. She issued him a challenge he couldn’t ignore and it was killing him.
When he heard her talking earlier on her cell, her voice cracking as she tried to find out what happened to her sister, he’d pulled the ticket agent aside and used his influence to find out more about her. Her story got to him. Desperate to get home, credit card limit too low for anything but economy. Baby sister in trouble. What else could he do but buy her the last empty seat on the special midnight flight to San Francisco? In first class. Next to him. She wasn’t his type, but she sure had a saucy attitude and confidence that took a man off his edge. Made him practically beg her to accept the damn ticket.
Jace had never done that for any woman. He’d always taken what he wanted. An old habit he couldn’t shake since he was growing up in a gritty beach town in SoCal and discovered no one would give a kid with no name a break. He never did get the smells of hot tar, dead jellyfish, and overripe trash out of his lungs and spent his life always one knockout punch away from the next fight.
Flying first class was one of the perks of getting out of that life. He preferred flying commercial over having his own jet. He liked watching people, seeing how they reacted to the world around them, not sitting by himself in a private plane. Alone.
Not bad for a punk who had nothing for wheels but a broken down skateboard when he was a teen. Now he was at the top of his game, a frequent flier and well-acquainted with the luxury of the airbus. So when this voluptuous babe with the golden-girl legs went on a verbal sparring match with him, it made him sit up and take notice. Women always wanted something from him.
He couldn’t let her go until he found out why.
Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve!!
1943 Italy and Art Stolen by the Nazis: Excerpt from “A Soldier’s Italian Christmas” for #Christmas Day
Merry Christmas!! Art is a big part of my life — so it’s no wonder I wrote about stolen art. Here’s a favorite post from A Soldier’s Italian Christmas.
Sister Angelina discovers what the Nazis are up to in my story and risks her life to save the art treasures. Here she is in the Monastery of Monte D’Oro Rose.
A Soldier’s Italian Christmas deals with art stolen by the Nazis.
Sister Angelina and Capt. Mack O’Casey are spying on the brutal Nazi major in this scene through a peephole from their hiding place:
The library was filled with drunken Nazis.
Angelina focused on the outrageous behavior of the German officer with the pretty brunette on his lap. Ines. “Oh, my Lord…” she whispered, and then blessed herself. Major von Arx sat at the long table where the monks prayed, running his fingers up and down the girl’s shiny, smooth stockings. Silk. Ines let out a breathy sigh when he parted her thighs and his hand dove under her skirt.
Embarrassed, the young nun looked away from the spy hole.
Oh, the shame. What would the captain think if he saw her watching them?
“What is it, Sister?”
“Nothing but the devil at play,” she said, her cheeks flaming.
“Your words intrigue me.” The captain put his eye to the peephole and smirked. “Are you certain he doesn’t know we’re watching him?”
“Yes, but we must be careful he doesn’t see us. The peephole was hidden by priceless Renaissance paintings,” she said, wishing she’d never brought him here. “Until the Nazi major stole them.”
“Yes. The German officer ordered his guards to remove the paintings and ready them for transport. For the Fuehrer, he said. Two days ago, I hid in the tower and watched his men leave through the narrow passage and head down the mountain with mules packed with wooden crates.”
“Men died trying to climb these mountains, Sister,” said the captain, not trying to hide the raw edge to his voice. “Good men. Brave men. The mud, the stench of death all around us, but we kept going. For what? So this Nazi bastard could steal from the Church?”
His eyes glowed a vibrant blue more intense than a cloudless sky. Angelina felt deep into her bones here was a man of faith who could be trusted. A man who stirred her soul with the desire to feel his strong arms around her. Sweet yearnings to feel skin against skin that tore her apart. Especially at night when her small cell was dark and her cotton chemise stuck to her body drenched in sweat, feelings she didn’t understand tormenting her. The captain brought those feelings to the surface.
He was dangerous to her.
Dear God, why must you lead me into temptation?
“We must return to the orphanage so you can rest before it’s time for you to leave,” she said. It saddened her to send him on his way, but she must. “I will lead you through the secret passage down the mountain. From there you can take the road north to Rome. I will see to it Marcello brings you the abbot’s finest wine to take with you on your journey.”
“Do you think God would approve?” he said with a grin.
“Yes, though He doesn’t always approve of what I’ve done.”
“Are you telling me the sweet angel before me is not what she seems?”
Angelina blinked. Had he guessed her secret?