Message From The Author

Author's Message

Wishes in the Wind

Like all of you who met and fell in love with Dustin Kingsley-Trenton's insightful, compassionate and charismatic brother in Echoes in the Mist-I, too, have impatiently awaited his book. Well, in Wishes in the Wind, Dustin finally finds the happiness he deserves in the form of Nicole Aldridge, the woman destined by "wishes and fate" to fill his heart. But, first, there are formidable obstacles to overcome-emotional chasms as vast as the Surrey countryside and a cold-blooded blackmail scheme that could undermine the English turf and threaten not only Nicole and Dustin's future, but their lives...

"May I offer assistance?"

Nicole froze at the sound of the deep masculine voice, dreams reverting abruptly to reality. She'd been discovered. Someone knew she was here. She had to escape.

Inching to the edge of the bench, she mentally gauged her distance to the road, preparing to bolt.

"Don't run off. And don't be frightened. I'm not going to hurt you."

A hard hand closed over hers, and the bench shifted as her unexpected companion sat down beside her.

"I'm not frightened," she heard herself say, keeping her chin down. "I'm..." She broke off. I'm what? Avoiding detection?

"I saw you clutching that lamppost. When you fled into the trees, you were white as a sheet. I was concerned you might faint."

"I'm fine." She stared at the tips of his polished evening shoes, feeling the warmth of his palm over hers. "But I'd best be on my way."

His grip tightened and an instant later a handkerchief was pressed into her other hand. "Try this. I've been told it works wonders. Guaranteed to dry a lady's tears."

Nicole couldn't help it; she looked up, drawn somehow to the husky teasing in his tone.

Her breath suspended-only this time her corset had little to do with it.

He was perhaps the most classically handsome man she'd ever seen, undoubtedly a nobleman, and not only because of his elegant evening attire. He had a bold straight jawline and patrician nose that screamed aristocrat and thick black hair over a broad forehead and equally black brows, all set off by penetrating eyes the color of midnight-eyes that now assessed her with the practiced skill of a man who knew women...intimately.

"What's your name?"

She blinked. "Pardon me?"

"Your name," he prompted. "You must have one."

"Oh. Yes. It's Nicole."

He smiled and Nicole found herself wondering just how long someone could exist without breathing.

"Nicole," he repeated. "It suites you perfectly: beautiful and delicate. Have you a surname as well?"

That snapped her out of her reverie...

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