A Girl by Any Other Name (38 page)

know for sure, but I thought I’d get something for each of us. What’s behind your back?”

She looked coyly away. I placed my items in the basket at her feet and rubbed her arms. “Show

me.”

She held out what I’d expected to see. The novel had a picture of a raven against a blue-gray

backdrop. The scroll writing on the front embellished the words.
Raven’s Return,
by Caleb James

Tanner, cover art by Sylvie Tanner
. It wasn’t exactly our story, but there was a truth in the fiction of

it all. Besides, who would have believed our story anyway?

I took it out of her hand. “Baby, we’ve talked about this.” I placed it back on the bestseller rack,

unable to hide my smile, as it sat next to its prequel,
Raven Girl
, which was receiving a second life

thanks to the popularity of my newest book.

“I can’t pass it by without buying it.”

“We have a hundred copies at home. You’re seriously cutting into our profit margin here.

Besides, how do you expect me to support a family if you keep buying things we don’t need?”

“Fine, but at least read the dedication to me.”

“I’ve read it to you a hundred times.”

“Then a hundred and one. I will never get tired of hearing it.”

I couldn’t deny her anything, least of all this. “Come here.”

She leaned against my chest and I grabbed the book, placing it in front of us so she could read

along with me.

I bent down low so I could whisper in her ear.

“‘To all the girls I’ve loved before,

To Sylvie, Sophie, Gabrielle and Lenore,

The raven may tap and crow upon my door,

But regardless of any plans of fate, or enticing lures,

I promise to love you forevermore.’”

Coming Soon from Totally Bound Publishing:

Lucky Fall

MK Schiller

Released 7th February 2014

Excerpt

Chapter One

“I can do this,” I kept repeating like a silly, silent mantra, trying to give myself a much-needed

boost of courage. I chewed my bottom lip anxiously, hoping I could pull off the six-inch stilettos I’d

purchased on a whim. I couldn’t remember the last time such dangerous heels graced my feet. As it

was, the clicking sounds they emanated against the Carrara marble floors echoed throughout the lavish

Excalibur Hotel lobby, grating on my nerves. Why I was here again? I hadn’t celebrated my birthday

in three years, not since that horrible fortieth that would go down in history as the worst day of my

life.

Libby had insisted, though. She was the only friend I’d kept after the divorce, and that was

because John couldn’t stand her. She was too blunt and honest, even for me at times, but I loved that I

always knew where I stood with her. My other friends had all made a show of it, until I’d heard

snippets of conversations that included my ex-husband, John, and the sugary arm candy who’d taken

up residence in the house I’d painstakingly redecorated. Who was I kidding? She wasn’t just sleeping

on my sheets and using my jetted tub—she was living my life, and I had to accept that. I had a new life

now and it was high time I started enjoying it, beginning with this dinner.

Libby had definitely gone all out. The swanky hotel was right off Broadway and everyone in

New York from the Bohemian-chic Greenwich crowd to the power-hungry Wall Street types were

dying to get in. We’d been able to snag a reservation in the five-star restaurant because Libby’s

brother was a food critic at the
The Times
and had connections.

“Julie, darling, over here,” Libby greeted from the plush settee in the hotel lobby. She motioned

to me, showing off her interesting French-style manicure, done in two shades of lime green. She was

definitely a personality.

I walked over with slow, steady steps, telling myself to take in the sumptuous surroundings, but

really it was because my heels scared me to death and Libby seemed miles away. Although I was

nervous, I had to admit that I felt sexy for the first time in a long time. The fancy chignon actually

worked well with my long brown hair, making every wayward wisp appear accidental, when in fact

they’d been planned with painstaking precision. The low cut black evening dress I’d almost taken

back because it was too daring clung to my curves just enough to be seductive without giving away

the goods. What the hell—I looked hot for once and needed to hold my head up high.

I squared my shoulders, increasing my gait, and returned the smile of a beautiful young man who

stood with his hands on his hips. He was wearing an expensive black suit and a silver diamond-

pattern tie that was modern, but also seemed reminiscent of an earlier era. There was something

suggestive in his sexy grin and as I neared him, my anxiety increased exponentially with each step.

His intense gaze swept over my body in a stimulating way, pausing on my come-fuck-me heels.

Then my foot faltered. I went hurtling, my feet rolling on a collision course I had no control over.

I crashed into a muscled wall of impenetrable black suit. He must have shifted to catch me. Shit!

He pulled me away by my arms. “Are you all right, miss?” he asked in a sexy British accent.

Miss
and not
ma’am
—I liked that and it didn’t hurt that the voice was deep and unmistakably

British, causing every word to drip with an air of intelligence that made it downright sexy. I stared up

at him, completely embarrassed, but also mesmerized. The voice fitted the man. He was young, tall,

with dark hair that was short enough to be professional, but long enough to tug. He had thick lips…the

kind you could kiss for a long time without chapping, and sapphire-colored eyes that were so bright,

they were brilliant.

He looked at me with genuine concern, and I tried like hell to make some sort of feeble attempt

to respond before he got the impression I was mute.

“It was my fault. I lost my balance,” I muttered.

“No, It was my pleasure,” he replied without pause. “Would you care for a seat?”

“No really, I’m fine.”

“Yes, you are,” he said, lowering his voice and it took me a moment to recognize the come on. It

had been so long since I’d heard one. Thankfully, I was smart enough not to read into it. “Are you

dining or staying here?”

“Dining,” I replied, trying to keep my breath steady as his masculine scent washed over me. It

was fresh linen, but heady like musk—clean, pleasant and complexly feral at the same time. He was

still holding my arms in his strong hands, circling his thumbs over my skin, slowly caressing me. I

backed away, trying to maintain what little dignity remained since my graceless act.

“May I escort you?” He held his arm out in a gesture I’d only seen in old movies and episodes of

The Love Boat
. Was he for real? This was New York, not New Amsterdam. Plus, he was like half my

age. Okay, maybe half was an exaggeration.

“Thank you, but I think I can make it on my own now.”

“I’d hate to have this fine establishment’s reputation tarnished by a slip and fall.”

So that was it. He was just being friendly. I wished he hadn’t told me that part.

“I assure you it’s not the floors, but rather my clumsy feet. This hotel is perfect, and the last thing

I would do is mar its pristine reputation.”

He shrugged, smiling for the first time, showing off a set of gleaming white teeth that made him

look menacing…in a good way. “The great advantage of a hotel is that it is a refuge from home life.”

I nodded, matching his smile. “George Bernard Shaw couldn’t have said it better. In fact, I

believe he did say it.”

His grin widened and there was a glint in his eye, as if he enjoyed being called out. “Ah, so

you’ve caught me pilfering another man’s words. Beautiful and smart—an irresistible combination.”

I took in a deep breath, surprised by his arsenal of compliments. “It’s an occupational hazard.”

“Oh, you’re a writer?”

“No, a reader, but books are my business.”

“Then please join me for dinner. We can discuss our favorite Shaw characters, and I can

continue to get lost in those big brown eyes of yours. I think they’re really quite unique.”

He thinks my eyes are unique?

“Brown is the most common eye color.”

“There is nothing common about you.”

“I don’t even know your name,” I whispered, realizing Libby was probably staring at me so hard

she was burning a hole in my dress.

“Let’s remedy that. Victor Ivanov.” He reached out his hand to shake mine.

I clasped it, and as soon he curled his fingers around mine, he flipped my hand before brushing it

under his lips. The surprising act combined with the supple curve of his mouth caused my traitorous

body to shiver.

“Julie Brenan.”

He arched his eyebrow as if awaiting more information.

“Julianne Brenan,” I corrected, not sure why I wanted him to know my full name, but it slipped

out of my mouth, hanging in the thick air between us.

“It’s as lovely as its owner.”

I swallowed, wondering if my underwear would sustain any more of his flattery. “You have a

Russian name and a British accent. There must be a story there.”

“There is, but I would rather use it to lure you into accepting my invitation.”

“I cannot join you, Mr Ivanov. I’m meeting someone.”

“It’s Victor. Who is getting the pleasure of your company tonight? Another man?” he asked with

an amused smirk, but his eyes grew darker and narrowed at the same time. “Boyfriend, husband, or

inconsequential date?”

“Why do you want to know?” I batted my lashes, hoping it looked beguiling and not like

something had flown into my eye. I couldn’t believe I was actually flirting back. If the art of seduction

were equated to paint on a canvas, I’d end up with stick figures at best. He made it easy though, like it

was a natural predisposition of my thought process.

“I prefer to verify the stakes before placing any bets.”

“And what are you wagering, Victor?”

He pulled my hand with just enough force that my feet followed. He bent, tilting his head so his

sweet mouth hovered next to my ear. “That you’ll end up in my bed tonight with your tongue, hands

and all your other delicious parts entangled with mine.”

A flush of heat coursed through my body so fast, I thought I was having a hot flash for a second. I

sucked in some air and tried desperately not to fan myself.

“Do you need a room, because it’s a good thing we’re at a hotel.”

The voice was familiar, but I wasn’t able to register it since I was in a dream-like trance staring

at the beautiful lines of Victor’s face. It was Victor that broke our contact and smiled at Libby.

Damn…I’d actually forgotten about her. I’d forgotten about everything, except for the tall, muscular

man in front of me who filled out a suit perfectly. Libby gave me an impish smile and shook her head.

I knew this little exchange would be the fodder for our dinnertime conversation.

“This is my friend, Libby. Libby, this is Victor Ivanov. He just rescued me from splitting my

head open.”

Victor was completely composed, while I was a quivering mess. He shook her hand, and I was

extremely happy he didn’t kiss it, surprising myself with my sudden possessiveness.

He turned back to me, placing one of my strategically placed wisps of hair behind my ear. “I

was doing a public service. A head as beautiful as yours should be preserved at all costs.”

My heart beat so wildly, I was sure the sound was echoing much like my heels had.

“Nice to meet you, Mr Ivanov,” Libby replied, giving him an up-and-down stare that lasted far

too long to be decent. “Would you care to join us for Julie’s birthday celebration?”

I grimaced, silently cursing Libby for mentioning it, but Victor kept smiling.

“I’m sure he’s busy,” I said, with panic. The last thing I needed was this gorgeous hunk of a man

sitting across from me as I chomped down on filet mignon.

“I’m afraid I must decline, but enjoy your evening. Happy birthday, Julianne. I hope you fare

better with the food than the floors.” He nodded before walking away.

Hearing him say my full name caused a slight pounding in my chest. First, he was eliciting hot

flashes and now he might cause a heart failure. Either way, I might just die a happy woman.

“Did I cock block you?” Libby said, giggling like a schoolgirl, pulling me toward the restaurant

entrance. I laughed so hard my shoulders shook. Fifty-year-old Libby using that expression was

priceless.

“He’s far too young for me.”

She looked back once. “Honey, all you need are a bat and two balls and you have yourself a

game.”

“Libby!” I yelled, but it was lost as she opened the doors to a private room in the restaurant and

a half-dozen people shouted ‘Surprise!’ at me.
Damn, Libby!

I stared at her, in shocked confusion. I recognized the people but they were all Libby’s friends. I

knew why she’d done it though. I’d been a complete recluse since my divorce, and she tried like hell