Synopsis
He’s a rockstar with wild secrets.
She’s a broken woman with a dark past.
When Wes Baron‘s sexy rocker antics jeopardizes his position with Muse of Darkness, the band manager books him as the main attraction at a fundraiser. Celebrities and good causes. What could go wrong? Too bad the strict head of the orphanage despises rockstars. Even worse, Wes can’t wait to make her beg … for his help.
Maria Augusto has saved her precious kids before without resorting to groveling. She won’t start now just to please a selfish rock’n’roller. Rumor has it, Wes engages only in the wildest, sexiest parties and Maria has put her unbridled days behind her. She can do without him just fine. If only she could get rid of the attraction as well.
But as their sparks of hatred at first sight transmute into flames of desire, Maria and Wes will discover if their passion between the sheets can last forever. Or if their differences in real life will drive them apart. If they don’t make a decision fast, they will both lose everything they’ve worked hard to accomplish.
One-click this book today to find out what they decide to do.
This reimagining of Sound of Music will make fans of Kylie Scott, Jaine Diamond, and Alexa Padgett swoon. No cheating or cliffhangers.
SNEAK PEEK
Chapter 3 – Maria – Unedited version
2022@ Liz Gavin
I march out of the Hall of the Arches and make a beeline for the parking lot. In the past week, headlines confirmed my suspicions about Mr. Baron. He is just like all other selfish pricks who objectify women, use them, and discard them without a second thought.
“Oi, Mancuso.” I speak in Portuguese with the driver holding the door of the black limousine open for me.
I smile at him as I sit on the soft leather.
“Ola, Srta. Augusto. Para onde vamos?” He returns the greeting and asks where I want to go.
“Patio Paulista, por favor.” I give him the name of the best mall in this area of the city as he settles behind the wheel.
About fifteen minutes later, I enter a Brazilian designer store to pick up the dress I bought for the event. I left it here for some alterations a couple of days ago. I browse their menswear section and pick up a leather jacket, a couple of wool pants, and half-a-dozen Henleys in different colors. These should keep the entitled rock star warm until he flies back home.
After accepting the bags of clothes from the salesperson with a smile, I return to the parking structure. I hand the purchases to Mancuso and enter the car, shaking my head as I pull the door closed. How can this Wes guy be so self-centered he ignores the rest of the world? He doesn’t even consider the possibility that a country on another hemisphere, twelve hours away from his own, might have a different climate.
“Selfish prick,” I mumble as we cruise through the streets back to the hall.
Once inside the venue, I spot a junior assistant with the non-profit who’s out of the building on a break.
“Hey, Jean. About to return?”
She nods. “Yes. Need something?”
I hand her the shopping bags, with the stuff I’ve bought for the celebrity, and ask, “Could you drop this at Mr. Baron’s dressing room?”
I can’t stand the thought of meeting him again, but the young woman skips in place, clapping, like a little kid on a Christmas morning unwrapping her favorite present.
Am I the only one who sees the man for what he is? Which is a famous person caught red-handed who now needs to save face and gain some sympathy from the media and the fans.
Entering the main hall where the concert will take place in a few hours, I remember an online article about his case I came across yesterday. It would have been much easier to focus on the story if his abs hadn’t distracted me. I shudder because a bolt of energy travels down my spine when I picture myself in the receiving end of the spanking, he was delivering the two women in the photos.
What the hell? I scold myself, squaring my shoulders.
“So, what do you think of this place?” Ana’s voice to my right startles me.
But I welcome the distraction she offers me. I don’t like the abyss my thoughts were sliding into.
“It’s gorgeous. It reminds me of Boston Symphony Hall, especially the ceiling.”
“They say it’s inspired by it as well as Vienna’s Grosser Musikvereinssaal.” Moira pops up to my left.
I swing my head around to face her. “The pictures in the proposal didn’t prepare me for the reality of this breathtaking hall. Not to mention the talented orchestra.” I gesture to the stage where the teen and young adult musicians play a moving rendition of Chopin’s Nocturne Op. 9.
“Right? These kids are amazing,” Ana agrees. “I’m not surprised we’re sold out.”
I put my hand on my chest, over my heart. “That’s great to hear. How many people does this room take?” I glance up at the two tiers of balconies before dropping my gaze to the vast ground level.
“Thirteen hundred.” Moira supplies the numbers.
I knit my eyebrows thinking about the much smaller space where the auction will happen. “You can’t fit all of these people in the Hall of the Arches.”
“Correct.” Ana nods and informs me, “We offered different types of packages. So, some people bought a full experience with show, dinner, and the auction. While others paid for dinner plus a choice between concert and auction. And others still bought tickets for either the concert or the auction.”
“Smart move because you reach different audiences with very distinct budgets. Although, I can’t understand the appeal of coming here to bid on famous people only.”
Moira slings an arm around my shoulders. “They’re doing it for a good cause.” She winks, chuckling. “But I bet some people might be hoping to get lucky.”
“Speaking of clueless people.” I change the subject to the one person whose presence has been gnawing at me the whole day. “I don’t believe Wes Baron had the nerve to show up for Hidden Scars fundraiser after the last shenanigan he’s pulled off,” I huff. “He’s gunning for a photo op.”
Ana shakes her head as she defends her husband’s friend. “Noah’s known Wes for over a decade. Muse of Darkness toured with Izzie Anderson back in the day. We’ve also gotten to know him.” She wiggles her thumb between Moira and herself.
My heart sinks at their naivete. “You guys see the best in people and your men are the exception to the rule. Wes came to the event just because he’s in hot water after those compromising pictures got published.”
“He went to a by-invitation-only party, with a reasonable expectation of privacy. If anything, he’s a victim of his celebrity status, in my humble opinion,” Moira comments.
“I don’t know about that,” I confess. “But I met him earlier today and he strikes me as a person who has sailed through life, without hitches or big problems thrown in his way.”
Ana and Moira exchange a knowing look but before they have time to comment on whatever they are thinking, Natalia rushes in.
“I’m so glad you guys are here. Two more volunteers had to go back to the hotel due to health issues. I need a hand sorting out the identification wristbands and setting up the reception counter.
“I’m on it,” the three of us reply.
* * *
I dry my hands and watch my reflection in the mirror in the elegant restroom of the Hall of the Arches. I reapply the bright red lipstick that the napkin stole during dinner. After putting it away in my silver clutch, I check the dress. The royal-blue sequins that cover the bodice shimmer under the lights while the chiffon skirt falls in a wide circle around my legs, hiding my silver high heels.
Satisfied, I turn and head back to the room where the auction is underway. I return to the spot where I stood before talking to Moira and Ana, but find Tristan Knight and Aidan Gallagher, instead. I glance about and find out the ladies are working the room.
Noticing the direction of my gaze, Tristan chuckles. “Those two are relentless. I bet they’re going around shaming people into bidding.”
“I’m sure of that. They were trying that tactic on me a little while ago.”
“Oh, now I get why you dashed to the ladies’ room like the place was on fire or something,” Aidan, Moira’s husband, says in his charming Irish brogue.
“Not confirming or denying that,” I murmur with burning cheeks.
I drag my eyes to the stage where the emcee is conducting the auction of a dozen celebrities, both local and international. People standing around the hall wave their paddles in the air with enthusiasm, shouting numbers, as the man holding the microphone describes the famous person under the spotlight.
Literally.
A cannon of light shines amber beams down at the center of the stage on whoever is being auctioned.
Three or four celebrities later, Noah joins us. Ana’s husband has a boyish charm and an infectious laughter that comes out of him naturally. Right now, the mischievous glint in his green eyes makes me steel myself.
“Maria, someone sent me over to deliver something to you,” he informs me as he takes my right hand and places the wooden handle of a plastic paddle on my palm. Wrapping my fingers around it, he winks. “Ana noticed you didn’t have one of these thingies you need to bid, and she won’t have any of that.”
I cut my stare to where his wife is standing, on the opposite end of the room, close to the stage. She sticks her thumb in the air and smiles, tilting her head toward the emcee. I shake my head and cross my arms. She glances around and gestures to Natalie, who crosses the couple of feet that separate us in a heartbeat.
“So, ready to start bidding?” She guffaws.
“I don’t see a paddle in your hand,” I point with mine, smiling.
“I’m taken. Steve is a wonderful guy, but I don’t think he’d like me paying a ton of money to have dinner with another gorgeous man.”
“Oh, so I should do that because I’m single, is that what you’re saying?”
Despite my light tone, my stomach churns at the idea.
“Not in the least.” She throws an arm around my shoulders. “We’re saying it’s a fun way to contribute to Hidden Scars.”
“We?” I ask, although I’ve got a good idea who she’s referring to.
“Moira, Ana and I. We’d love to see you taking a chance to have fun and help the foundation at the same time.”
I hesitate, studying the raised platform. “Oh, fuck,” I whisper as I realize the only celebrities left are the members of Knight’s Edge and one Mr. Wes Baron. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Natalie turns to me with pleading eyes like a puppy asking for a treat. “Please, say you’ll consider it.”
“That’s all I can do right now.” I shrug. “I promise to think about it.”
I cross my fingers as I watch the rock stars’ wives outbid everyone else trying to win a date with their husbands. The audience applauds and some people whistle as the four men come down to hug and kiss the women.
The emcee turns to Wes Baron, “We saved the best for last.” Nervous laughter spreads around the room like wildfire.
My spine tingles as if icy fingers ran up and down my back and I search Natalie’s eyes. Her face turns white as I look on her and she chews her lower lip. I clutch her forearm and squeeze it, trying to reassure her.
“Let’s start bidding at a hundred thousand dollars, shall we?” The emcee suggests.
That’s the minimum bid with which he began the auction for all previous celebrities. But he’s clearly not reading the room right at this point.
Thick silence falls in the expansive hall. It’s so quiet I hear people shuffling their shoes as they look about themselves, ignoring the two men on the stage. My eyes remain glued to the man under the amber light. His mane of light brown hair hasn’t been tamed. It frames his face in stark contrast to the classic lines of his black and white figure-hugging tuxedo.
Natalie mumbles beside me in a panicky whisper, “This is going to ruin the event.”
I nod. “The press is going to talk about the failed auction of the fallen bad boy tomorrow. Nobody will care about the wonderful concert or the amazing work the foundation has been doing over the years.”
My throat goes dry, and I clench my fingers tighter around the handle of the paddle in my hand, praying someone else does something.
Anything.
The emcee cuts the offer in half. “How about fifty thousand?â€
Still, nobody moves. Hushed whispers begin to circulate in the audience.
My heart crumbles as I raise my hand in the air and make an offer the reporters can’t ignore, “Five hundred thousand dollars.”
“Half a million dollars from the lovely woman in the blue dress,” the emcee repeats into the microphone, relief coloring his tone.
“Going once,” he shouts into the mic before glancing at Wes. “Remember you’ve got to match her offer.”
“Gladly,” the rock star murmurs.
The emcee swings the mic his way again. “Going twice.” He’s smart enough not to ask for more money from the audience. “Sold.”
Natalie crushes me against her chest. “Oh, my fucking stars. Thank you!”
I chuckle, struggling to smother the butterflies flapping their wings in my belly. “That’s not a big deal. Remember I had pledged that much already.”
I say that as much to the organizer as to myself because my blood zings through my veins, making my ears ring.
What the fuck have I done? Bidding on a date with a rock star?
If only that thought didn’t set my body on fire, I could believe I did a good thing.
She smooches my cheek, bringing me back to reality. “Yes, you did. But pledging it as a bid right now saves our hard work. You’re a godsend.”
Ana and Moira join us, hugging and thanking me in turns. I repeat the words I’ve just said to Nat, downplaying my contribution.
I strain my neck up to meet Wes’s stare when he appears behind the ladies. I glance beyond him to find the crowd has parted to allow him to cross the hall to where we are.
He greets the women before turning to me. He dips his head and whispers, “Thank you for what you’ve just done. You’ve no idea how much it meant to me.”
My blood boils. The nerve of the guy! He thinks I did this to save his sorry ass?
I scowl. “No need to thank me, sir,” I almost spit the word. To my consternation, a glint of something a little dark, and a lot naughty, shines in his hazel eyes. Ignoring it, I add, “I’m just helping the foundation.”
“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, but his raspy voice carries a note of amusement. Invading my personal space, he adds in a sexy whisper, “Looking forward to our date tomorrow.”
His woodsy scent fills my nostrils. Pheromones kill my brain cells. I just gawk at him when he steps away. My heart thuds against my ribs when he winks.
Raising his fingers to his forehead in a mock salute, he bids us goodnight, turns around, and heads back toward the other side of the room.
When he’s out of earshot, I grab Ana’s hand. “I don’t have to go through with the charade of a night out with him, right? I mean, I’ll write the check for the donation and everything. But we don’t have to actually go out on a date.”
She shakes her head. “Afraid that’s not going to be possible. After what happened at the auction, the press will be at your heels the whole day tomorrow. Any sign of deception will compromise the fundraiser.”
When I glance at Moira and Nat, they nod their agreement. I droop my shoulders and return my gaze to Wes’s retreating back as he stalks toward the exit door behind the stage.
Fuck! I wail inside my head, biting the inside of my mouth to keep quiet.
With a deep breath, I try to calm down the erratic beating of my heart. So, the best thing I can do is give him the cold shoulder.
That’s it! I’ll go out with the man, pose for the photos, and pretend I don’t despise him with every fiber of my being.
Wes gets to the exit and looks over his shoulder, straight at me. Despite the distance, I recognize the seductive quality of the smile he gives me before crossing the damn door.
My knees buckle and I swear under my breath. Ignoring him tomorrow would be so much easier if his bedroom eyes didn’t have the color of sinful decadent honey. And if his full lips curving in a simple grin didn’t turn my knees to jelly.
I’m so fucking screwed!
Wes and Maria’s story releases on August 28th.
Pre order Book #3 – Muse of Darkness series now – Wes.