Just Deserts. Brenda Jackson

tion>

      

      “Tristan?”

      He glanced over at her. “Yes?”

      Her gaze immediately latched on to his lips. They were full, nice, inviting. She felt a sudden pull in her stomach. She wondered how they would feel if she were to press hers against them.

      “Dani?”

      She snatched her gaze from his lips up to his eyes. They were eyes that were studying her intently. “What?”

      “You called my name. What did you want?”

      Frowning, Danielle compressed her lips, deciding for the moment to keep her mouth closed or else she might say the wrong thing. There was no way she would tell him that for a crazy moment she had been ready to ask if she could sample his lips.

      “Dani? What’s wrong?”

      If only he knew.

      BRENDA JACKSON

      is a die “heart” romantic who married her childhood sweetheart and still proudly wears the “going steady” ring he gave her when she was fifteen. Because she’s always believed in the power of love, Brenda’s stories always have happy endings. In her real-life love story, Brenda and her husband of thirty-six years live in Jacksonville, Florida, and have two sons.

      A USA TODAY bestselling author of more than fifty romance novels, Brenda is also a recent retiree who worked thirty-seven years in management at a major insurance company. She divides her time between family, writing and traveling. You may write to Brenda at P.O Box 28267, Jacksonville, Florida 32226; e-mail her at [email protected] or visit her Web site at www.brendajackson.net.

      Just Deserts

      Brenda Jackson

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Dear Reader,

      It was a great pleasure to work on a project with two good author buddies of mine, Carla Fredd and Carmen Green!

      From the moment we decided to write this trilogy, I was fascinated with Danielle’s character. I knew she would be a likable person, but she would also be someone who was hurting from the deceit of a man she thought was her husband.

      And then there was Tristan, her best friend and, unbeknownst to Danielle, the man who has secretly been in love with her for years. I found myself rooting for Tristan and hoping that Danielle would finally realize what was right before her eyes.

      I took the following question to my book club: “Can you fall in love with your best friend?” The responses were great and thought-provoking and started a lot of discussions. Overwhelmingly, we agreed that starting out as best friends makes for the best relationships.

      I hope all of you enjoy reading Tristan and Danielle’s story, where you will see if that holds true.

      Also, I would love for you to join me for the Madaris Family Reunion Cruise to Canada out of New York in June 2009. Please visit my Web site for more details!

      Happy reading!

      Brenda Jackson

      Contents

      Acknowledgment

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Epilogue

      Acknowledgment

      To the love of my life, Gerald Jackson, Sr. Happy 36th anniversary!

      To my author buddies, Carla Fredd and Carmen Green. I had fun working with you ladies on this one.

       Let’s do it again!

      To everyone who will be joining me on the 2009 Cruise to Canada. This one is for you!

      For if a man think himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself.

      —Galatians 6:3

      Chapter 1

      If it had been left up to Tristan Adams, he would not have given Danielle Timmons-Foster the news. But it hadn’t been left up to him. For the past two months her life had been one hellacious lie. A part of him wondered if one more lie wouldn’t hurt. But for Danielle he knew it would.

      And when she hurt, he hurt.

      She had dropped onto the sofa and was staring at him as if he had totally lost his mind. He almost wished he had. Or, at least, that this episode had been one long nightmare they would finally wake up from—and find that not only was her husband not dead, but that he hadn’t left three wives behind. Three wives who, until a couple of months ago, each assumed they were Mrs. Marc Foster. And now to add salt to the wound, he’d just told Danielle there might be a fourth woman out there with the title, as well.

      “Tristan, please tell me you’re joking,” Danielle said, her voice soft, low and sounding utterly defeated. “It’s a sick joke, but I’ll accept it. I don’t want to believe what you just said. I can’t believe what you just said.”

      He nodded slowly, understanding. He had been with her when she’d gotten the call two months ago that her husband of five years was dead after having choked on—of all things—his wedding ring. He’d also been with her at Marc’s funeral in California when they’d discovered she wasn’t the only Mrs. Foster. And he’d been by her side at the attorney’s office when it had been declared that the second wife, Renée, was the legal Mrs. Foster and that Danielle, his first wife, and Alexandra, his third, had gotten duped with phony marriage licenses.

      He released a long sigh and crossed the living room’s hardwood floor to sit beside Danielle on the sofa. He took her hand in his and tried to smile. “Dani, I stopped teasing you the day you began wearing your first training bra, remember?”

      He knew that would get a smile out of her. She would remember that day. It would remind her of happier times when her brother had been alive. Tristan couldn’t help but smile himself whenever he thought of Paul Timmons, his best friend since kindergarten. They’d lived in the same neighborhood and had gone to school together, had played peewee football and gone off to college together—roommates at the University of Florida in Gainesville, a long way from their hometown of Port St. Lucie, Florida. And then when they’d finished college, they’d returned home to go into business together. They started A&T Shipping Company, making it into a very successful corporation. Then the Iraq war started and Paul’s reserve unit was shipped out for duty. Paul never made it back home alive.

      “When will it end?” Danielle asked, her words intruding into his thoughts. “How could I have been married to a man and not know him the way I thought I did?”

      Tristan’s grip on her hand tightened. They had covered this ground before and he felt partly to blame. Danielle had been a well-known international model when she had been contacted about Paul’s death. Since their parents had gotten killed in a plane crash her first year in college, Paul had been all the family she’d had. Losing him had taken a toll on her. Claiming she was tired of the glitz and glamour of life as a successful fashion model, she had returned to Port St. Lucie to take over Paul’s role as Tristan’s partner.

      Barely two months after Paul’s death, Marc Foster had opened a business account, and since Danielle’s role was to wine and dine new clients, she had taken on Marc. If Tristan hadn’t been so torn up with grief himself