Winter's Touch (The Last Riders #8)

“He’s gone, and he’s not coming back.”


Winter put her arm around Aisha’s shoulders at the heartbreak she heard in her voice. “Darling, he’s going to be back in six months.”

“It won’t be the same.”

Winter nodded, acknowledging Aisha’s sentiment as they watched Viper talking to the three men who were leaving for basic training. Chance and Noah had worked in the factory for a year so that the three of them could go into the service together. They were leaving in the middle of the night to make the drive to Lexington, where they would catch their flight for basic training. Lily and Shade were driving with John, while Razer and Beth would take their boys, so they could spend an extra day shopping.

Viper gave each of the men a hug goodbye before walking toward the hill where they sat, watching.

He stared down at his women, and Winter scooted over to make room for him. He sat down, unfolding his legs and placing an arm over each of their shoulders.

“They’re going to be fine. You sure you two don’t want to go down to tell them goodbye again?”

Winter sniffled. “I told them last night. I don’t want to start crying again. Lily’s having a hard enough time as it is.”

Viper turned to Aisha. “How about you?”

She silently shook her head, biting a trembling lip. “I told them goodbye when I helped them pack down their bags.”

The Last Riders began waving as Razer’s car pulled out of the parking lot.

Her heart broke along with Aisha’s as she lowered her head to rest on her knees. Her hair covered her tears, but it couldn’t mute the sobs.

“He’s waving to you,” Viper said so softly Winter laid her head on his shoulder, knowing how hard it was going to be to lose his baby girl. He cleared his voice. “Aisha, John’s waving to you.”

Aisha raised her head up from her knees then took off running when she saw John walking toward the path where she was sitting.

Winter and Viper watched as John said something before kissing her cheek then going back to his parents’ car.

Aisha stayed on the bottom of the path until she could no longer see the taillights as the car disappeared around the corner. She turned toward them then, giving them a radiant smile as she walked up.

“What did he say?” Viper asked gruffly, as she came within earshot.

“John said he loves me, and he thinks I’m special enough to wait for.”





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The Lords of Whitehall, #2





Kristen McLean




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1





Paris 1824





Céleste waited while her abigail nestled the pearl-studded gold comb in her hair amidst a low knot of dark curls. As she expected, it complemented her gown of blue with gold brocade that fit her slim figure with perfection. She ought to be pleased. She ought to feel her usual self—calm, collected, and in complete control—but a dreadful sense of foreboding tormented her, as though she were somehow stepping past the point of no return.

“You look lovely.” Juliette examined Céleste’s reflection in the mirror.

Juliette lived with Céleste as a companion, and had for several years. They were the dearest of friends. Even on the worst of days, Juliette could be counted on to chase away unwanted feelings. Grief, sadness, nervousness—they usually dissipated when she was with Juliette. The fact that Céleste still felt her stomach pitching violently despite her friend’s soothing voice only frustrated her.

“I ought to,” Céleste said. “I have been here for over an hour.” She picked up an ivory handheld mirror to check the back of her coiffure. “What time is it?”

Juliette smiled sweetly. “Time for your guests to start arriving.”

“Hmm.” With a deep breath, Céleste set down the mirror, sprayed a touch of perfume on her neck, and grabbed her long gloves, the new ones. She needed all her armor tonight.

Juliette’s fair brow knit suspiciously. “That isn’t like you,” she said as she followed Céleste to the door. “You anticipate this ball every year. What did you do?”

Céleste lifted her chin, looking over her shoulder to send her friend a quelling look. “I am sure I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Juliette turned her nose up mockingly. “I am sure you have every idea what I am talking about.” The blonde beauty crossed her arms stubbornly. “Come now. What have you done to make you dread a ball so?”

Céleste sighed. “You are like a dog with a bone, are you not?”

Juliette waited silently for an explanation.

The corner of Céleste’s lips twitched. No one else would have the audacity to mock and hound her. It was one of the reasons she loved the girl so much.