Into the Night. Kate Hoffmann
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Look what RT Book Reviews is saying about Kate Hoffmann …
The Charmer “Hoffmann’s deeply felt, emotional story is riveting. It’s impossible to put down.”
Who Needs Mistletoe? “Romantic, sexy and heartwarming.”
Doing Ireland! “Sexy and wildly romantic.”
Your Bed or Mine? “Fully developed characters and perfect pacing make this story feel completely right.”
The Mighty Quinns: Ian “A very hot story mixes with great characters to make every page a delight.”
The Mighty Quinns: Teague “Sexy, heartwarming and romantic … a story to settle down with and enjoy—and then re-read.”
Dear Reader,
The inspiration for this book came from an unusual source—my sister. We had both just watched The Thomas Crown Affair (the one with Pierce Brosnan) and she was complaining that the story was supposed to be her life, not the heroine’s! She was certain some quirk of fate had deprived her of a life that included a private jet, an international playboy and scads of designer clothes.
I think being swept away by a wealthy playboy might be a pretty popular fantasy, one I decided to explore in Into the Night. After finishing the book, I’d have to say that, given the same offer—a quick getaway to a beautiful island—I wouldn’t hesitate to hop onto a plane with a sexy stranger, either!
I hope you enjoy this FORBIDDEN FANTASY.
Happy New Year!
Kate Hoffmann
About the Author
KATE HOFFMANN began writing in 1993. Since then she’s published sixty books. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys music, theater and musical theater. She is active, working with school students in the performing arts. She lives in southeastern Wisconsin with her two cats, Chloe and Tally.
Into The Night
Kate Hoffmann
MILLS & BOON
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1
TESS ROBERTSON STEPPED through the doors of the Perryman Hotel, nodding at the doorman as she passed. The lobby of Nashville’s most luxurious hotel was decorated for the Christmas holidays, although the atmosphere was now buzzing with the excitement of the upcoming New Year’s weekend.
She searched the scattered guests, lounging on upholstered sofas and chairs. A few of them glanced over at her and she wondered if they could see right through her elegant facade. Maybe that saying was true. You can take a girl out of the country, but you can never take the country out of the girl.
Her gaze dropped to her shoes, purchased just that morning, along with her dress and the small clutch purse she had gripped in her hand. The sexy shoes pinched and the sleek bag barely held more than money, a lipstick and her cell phone. But she had to admit the dress was the prettiest thing she’d ever owned, worth every penny she’d charged on her credit card. It was important she looked her best tonight. For the first time in the five years she’d worked for the Beale family, she’d been invited to their annual New Year’s Eve party.
The Beales, Frank and Nan, and their son, Jeffrey, were Tennessee gentry, their old family money made in industry—cotton, tobacco and shipping—and now invested in commercial real estate and the thoroughbred farm she managed for them outside Lexington, Kentucky. They wintered in Palm Beach and summered at a mountain estate near Asheville, leaving their vast business concerns to Jeffrey, their thirty-three-year-old only son.
Though people like the Beales moved in a very different world from Tess’s, their paths often intersected at the farm and at all the important horse races—the Derby, the Preakness, Belmont. Still, there had always been an invisible wall between them—the Beales relaxed in a luxury box while she worked in the stables. They wore beautiful clothes and she dressed in jeans. They traveled on private jets and she rode in a pickup truck, pulling a horse trailer. The rich were very different—except for Jeffrey.
“Tess!”
She spun around to find her best friend, Alison Cole, hurrying across the lobby, her heels clicking on the marble floor as she walked.
“Sorry I’m late,” Alison said. “Have you been here long?” She leaned close and hugged Tess. “How was your Christmas? And your Dad? Good I hope.” She stepped back and gave Tess a quick perusal. “You look fabulous! You clean up very well.” She examined Tess’s hair and nodded in approval. “No hay. That’s a good sign.”
Tess’s spirits brightened. “Do you really like the dress? It was between this and a blue one. The blue one made my chest look enormous, but I thought this garnet color was more sophisticated.”
They both glanced around the lobby, realizing that Tess had spoken a little too loudly. “Good choice,” Alison said with a laugh.
“Well, it’s true,” Tess whispered, silently reminding herself to think before she spoke. It was one of her worst habits, one she was trying to change.
“Now, tell me, why was it so important that I come along with you to this party? You hang around these people all the time. Why are you nervous about tonight?”
Tess grabbed Alison’s hand and led her toward the bar. “I’ll explain everything over a drink. I don’t want to get upstairs too early. I haven’t eaten all day and the buffet will be too much to resist. You know I have absolutely no willpower when it comes to crab claws.”
Once they’d settled themselves at the bar, Tess took a gulp of her vodka tonic, then drew a deep breath. “I think Jeffrey is going to propose to me tonight,” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth.
Alison gasped, her eyes going wide. “What?”
“I’ve been expecting it for a while. We’ve been carrying on this relationship for about four years and I can tell he’s getting … restless. When he was at the farm a couple weeks ago, he told me he was going to make a very important announcement at the party tonight and that I might be surprised. Then, out of nowhere, I get an invitation. I’ve never been invited before. And this would be so him, shocking his parents with the news that he wants to marry me. I can just see him, getting down on his knee at midnight in front of all these people.”
“Have you even discussed marriage?”
“No, not really,” Tess said. “But it makes perfect sense for both of us. We make a good team.”
“And you love him?”
Tess hesitated before answering. It was a question she’d asked herself over and over again. The answer seemed to change