A detailed report followed. It showed a few odd jobs, but nothing that lasted longer than a month or two; and if his source was correct, which he always was, the younger Mr. Chase had more than his share of run-ins with the law when he was a teenager.

Three more pictures were included, all showing Hudson’s brother exiting a dive called Anchors. A billionaire brother and that shithole is where he spends his time? Julian’s eyes narrowed as he spread the documents out on the coffee table and took a long drag from his cigarette, the end glowing orange, the soft paper crackling as it burned. There was a kink in the perfectly polished armor and he knew exactly how to exploit it.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Our first group hug is for our agent, Pamela Harty. You read our “super sexy romance” the day it arrived, loved it before you even finished it, and have championed it ever since. Your patience, professionalism, and unwavering support have meant the world to us. Without you, Pinocchio would still be a puppet and for that we will be eternally grateful.

A huge thank-you to our editor, Leis Pederson. Despite the odds, and what is surely one of the most crowded mailboxes in the industry, our little love story made the cut. You saw something on the page that made you give us the chance of a lifetime, and we strive every day to write words that will make you proud. Thank you for believing in us.

To our publicist Nina Bocci, we loved you from hello. Granted, the conversation was about David Gandy, but it ended with knowing we wanted to work with you someday. Thank you for helping us spread the word. And to Craig Burke, Erin Galloway, and the team at Berkley, thank you for making us feel like gladiators. Oh and Craig, we hope you’re having red wine and popcorn while you read this!

A box of cupcakes for our pre-readers, the giant kind you need a fork to eat. Bethany Myers, Melissa Marino, Sarah Gutchall, Graham Jaenicke, Ally Hayes, Karen Carroll and Margaret Fahey: your comments and enthusiasm made us believe our words might actually be read by people who didn’t know us. And of course, Kiley Roache. No chapter was complete until we’d been “off to see the wizard.”

To the authors who have offered their support and encouragement: Joelle Charbonneau, who literally changed the course of our careers and is always ready with advice or a sanity check. Cecy Robson, who is not only quick with an RT or a phone call, but is the best sprint write partner on the planet. To Christina Hobbs & Lauren Billings, clearly you gals never met a stranger and swapping stories over cocktails was what we needed to keep the faith. We’ve said it before and we’ll say it again, we might be older than you but we totally want to be you when we grow up. And to Tara Sue Me, the kind of woman who will offer you chocolate in her blanket fort when deadlines are looming and agree to a cover quote without so much as a second thought.

Finally, to the fandoms that not only brought us together, but inspire us on a daily basis. From Fifty Shades to Crossfire to Gandy Girls, we have loved taking this journey with each of you and hope you’ll welcome Hudson Chase into the ranks of your book boyfriends.

Lemon drop martinis for everyone!

Keep reading for a preview of Book 2 in the Chasing Fire trilogy

RELEASE ME

Coming soon from InterMix

Allie tried her best to ignore the blue flashing lights in her parents’ driveway. But from her seat in the living room she had a clear view of the brick-paved courtyard just beyond the front door. And she knew that just beyond the courtyard’s limestone fountain stood a row of uniformed officers forming a human barrier along yellow tape. And beyond that tape stood a crowd of reporters with cameras and microphones, all jockeying for a better position among the curious who had gathered at the gates.

Instead she focused her attention on the detective standing in front of her. The middle-aged woman wore clothes more suited for a man and her hair was pulled back in a tight bun. Yet despite her hard-as-nails appearance, there was an undeniable kindness in her eyes when she told Allie it was time to take her statement.

Allie nodded but didn’t speak. She hadn’t said more than a handful of words since placing the call to 911.

The detective stood and reached inside her jacket for a small notebook. Her movements revealed the badge she wore clipped to her waist and the gun she kept holstered at her side.

Allie’s eyes drifted shut and her mind filled with images of gunshot wounds and blood.

So much blood . . .

“Alessandra.”

She opened her eyes to find Benjamin Weiss, general counsel for Ingram Media, making his way through the foyer. As always, he was impeccably groomed in a dark suit and tie with a perfectly folded handkerchief peeking out of the breast pocket. Only this time his tie was askew and a thin sheen of sweat covered his forehead.

“My apologies,” he said, out of breath. “I came as soon as I heard, but the roads are clogged with news vans.”

As soon as he heard? Allie had no idea who had called Mr. Weiss, but she was glad to have him at her side. Benjamin Weiss was more than just the family’s attorney; he had also been her father’s best friend.

A few quiet words were spoken between Mr. Weiss and Detective Green, and then she was ready to begin. She sat on the coffee table across from Allie and uncapped her pen. “Walk me through what happened after you pulled into the driveway,” she instructed. Her tone was all business; just another day at the office for a homicide detective.

Allie tried to speak but her words came out on a strangled sob.

Mr. Weiss placed his hand on her shoulder. “Would you like some water?” he asked, glancing toward the kitchen and paling as his gaze fell on the scene unfolding in the dining room.

Don’t look.

Allie kept her stare trained on the detective’s pen as she answered Mr. Weiss. “I’m fine.” There wasn’t a person in Chicago who would’ve believed that statement, but a bottle of water wasn’t going to make things any better. And with the way her stomach felt, she doubted she’d be able to keep it down anyway.

“Just take it slow,” Detective Green said.

Allie drew a shaky breath and began to retell the events of the past few hours. “I knew something wasn’t right as soon as I opened the front door.”

“How so?” the detective asked.

“The alarm didn’t make any noise.”

“You mean it was unarmed?”

Allie shook her head. “No, I mean it wasn’t working. Even if it’s unarmed, the system still chimes to announce when a door or window has been opened.”

Detective Green scribbled a few notes on the small pad of paper in her hand. “What happened after you came in the house?”

“I could see the light was on in my dad’s study, so I headed that way first.”

Tears clouded Allie’s eyes as she looked across the expanse of the paneled living room to the hallway just to the right of the front door. Her throat tightened as she thought back to how confident she’d felt striding down that hall. For as long as Allie could remember, every aspect of her life had been dictated by what was best for the family legacy. But this time her parents had taken it too far. Going behind her back to arrange a marriage that was nothing more than a business transaction was the last straw. She was done playing the role of the dutiful daughter, and she’d planned to tell them so in no uncertain terms.

But when she’d reached the door . . .