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“Tell me your theory, baby.”
“You liked my accent because your mother spoke to you in the same British accent when she was carrying you inside her for nine months. Your subconscious memories recalled that long ago someone who sounded a lot like me loved you with all of her heart.”
“Do you think that’s possible?” I asked.
“I do, Caleb—and now you have me loving you with all of my heart.”
I kissed my sweet Brooke and thanked her for saving me in as many ways as I could show her. It would take the rest of my life probably, but I was up for the challenge. I had nothing else more important to do . . . than love her.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My first thank-you goes out to Ruth and Jan for their helpful push. This journey would never have happened if not for your encouragement. You both are an incredible inspiration to me in this business. To my agent, Jane Dystel . . . I am continually amazed at the things you can accomplish . . . and ever grateful for it. Thank you for always having my back. To my editor, Maria Gomez at Montlake Romance, thank you for taking me on and supporting me at every turn. To Luna and Franzi, who read every page of this manuscript as it was born, falling in love with the story, and begging me for the next chapter. I don’t think I can ever express what that meant to me, especially at a time when I was struggling with so much doubt. You believed in me. To Darren, for reading faithfully, even though romance books are not your thing. You never complain, and your input is invaluable. I love that we can work this gig together. To Marion, for helping me to make it through that last leg of the book race—to its polished and complete end. You are always a joy to work with. Big love and immense appreciation to the ladies of Raine Miller Romance Readers for bringing daily inspiration to so many people, and for your love and support not just for my books, but for me personally. You are the ones who keep me tapping away at my keyboard—don’t ever forget that! Thank you, thank you, thank you. I can’t ever say it enough times.
xxoo R
READ ON FOR AN EXCERPT FROM
FILTHY LIES
A BLACKSTONE DYNASTY NOVEL
BY RAINE MILLER
AVAILABLE FEBRUARY 2017
Editor’s Note: This is an early excerpt and may not reflect the finished book.
PROLOGUE
Winter
The day I turned fifteen years old I knew I loved James Blakney. There was a look in his eye that told me he’d finally noticed I existed in a realm beyond best-friend’s-much-younger-off-limits-don’t-even-think-about-it-little-sister. Call it womanly intuition, despite the fact I was barely qualified for being an actual woman at just fifteen—and only in the biological sense—but still, I knew my own feelings.
I shared those feelings with no one.
James came to my birthday that year. To the gathering at Blackwater on the island where my family summered and vacationed as often as my father could convince my mother to spend time at the old estate perched on the coast. We were in the pool playing chicken fight when it happened. Wyatt was carrying me on his shoulders while Lucas carried Janice Thorndike and the two of us squared off. Janice was one of those people we were forced to tolerate because our parents were close. She was a manipulative attention whore most of the time, and it being my birthday didn’t change that fact for her one iota. Why she would go out of her way to humiliate someone who was much younger than her—and during their birthday celebration no less—was beyond me.
But she did.
Janice yanked on the tie at my neck that held up my bikini top and announced to all within shouting distance to have a look at my tits when it fell down. I was mortified to the depths of my soul as I frantically tried to cover back up after jumping from Wyatt’s shoulders down into the water. Awkwardly struggling with my chest submerged, I turned away from everyone and pulled myself together as best I could through hot tears. I think my brothers were either too freaked out or oblivious to what had just happened because neither said anything to me as I made for the edge of the pool to leave. Maybe they figured I didn’t want any more attention drawn to myself—which I most certainly didn’t—but a little compassion would have been nice, too. Brothers can be stupidly dense.
James met me at the steps with a towel and told me Janice was a jealous bitch who wished she looked as good as I did without her bikini top.
“You saw?” I asked him on a sob.
His striking greeny-brown eyes burned right into me before he answered. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, Winter, and you didn’t do anything wrong. You can’t help that you’re beautiful and sweet.” The way he looked at me told me we’d moved beyond our big-brother/little-sister type of relationship in that moment. It wasn’t him being pervy with me, either. It was simply James being my champion when I desperately needed one.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, still mortified that he’d seen my naked boobs, but strangely aware the incident had given me the gift of James Blakney’s attention at the same time.
“Don’t let this ruin your special day, Win. You are perfectly lovely in every way,” he said before grinning at me in a way that could only be described as a little bit wicked. My skin pebbled along with my nipples as I stood there like a mute. James winked as he took a swig of the Sam Adams he held before going back over to his group of friends on the grass as if nothing had ever happened.
And just like that I fell in love with him.
Not even my twin sister, Willow, was privy to the innermost secrets of my heart in regards to James Blakney. In my dreams he was mine alone, and I didn’t have to share him with anyone else. Or be humiliated because I’d set my sights far too high on a man who could never possibly be interested in a young girl like me. And that right there was the division between us. James was a man at twenty-three, and I was merely a young girl at fifteen. Those eight years spanning between us was gargantuan—far too great of a distance to cross.
Then.
But I’ve always known him. James has been around and in my life for as long as I can remember. He met my oldest brother, Caleb, at St. Damien’s when they were ten years old, and they’ve been friends ever since. I was two then. Willow and I went to St. Damien’s eight years later when it was our turn to be shipped off to boarding school—and our twin brothers, Wyatt and Lucas, were sent off five years before us. In the Blackstone family, children were always schooled away from home, because it built character and toughened them up for the real world. Even though the “real world” was so far removed from our lifestyle it was laughable. Things like twenty-year-old mothers who worked the streets so her children could have food and a place to sleep; or homeless vets struggling with wartime PTSD manifested in drug abuse and suicide were the real world.
