Hutch nods, and Dirk stands, going to the wire basket on the filing cabinet. “This came for you in the mail.”

  I take the brown parcel and inspect it. The postmark is Muscovite, but I don’t recognize the address. The three of us look at each other, and I rip it open at once. If somebody’s coming for me, we all need to know.

  What slides out squeezes my heart. “My notebook.”

  “What’s that?” Dirk steps closer, inspecting the string-bound journal I was given in prison.

  A short note accompanies it from the old man, and I summarize it for them. “He went to the prison to be sure all of my things were collected. He’s sorry this was all they had left.”

  Flipping through the pages an ache twists in my throat. All the words I wrote, the things I didn't want to forget, the small doodles of Hana, it’s all here. It’s like a historical record of the things I hold most dear. I’ll have to share it with her one day. Maybe on our wedding night…

  “Damn, I really like that guy.” Dirk grins, and I pat his shoulder.

  “Me too, man.” Me, too.

  Closing the cover, I slip it in the backpack when I get to the truck. I make my quick stop in the small antique store in town to pay my bill and pick up the small package, then I head out to the pasture where Hana is working with the kids.

  Pepper runs up to meet me as soon as I’m parked under a shade tree. “Everything's in place!” She’s jumping all around, and her eyes are wide. “All you have to do is it! I’ll get everybody back to the house.”

  Leaning into the bed, I take out the backpack and slide it over my shoulder while Pepper runs to where Hana has the group hanging upside down from the limb of a tree while she lies in the grass below them taking pictures.

  My girl has the wildest ideas for portraits, but they always turn out incredible.

  “Time to go! Sorry, Hana! We all have to get back to the house now.” Pepper waves her hands, and her little boyfriend does a backflip off the branch.

  That kid is always showing off. I guess it’s what we do to impress our women. The other boy and girl climb down the old-fashioned way, and they all tell us goodbye as they hop on the waiting horses and gallop off towards the house.

  “Wait!” Hana sits up frowning with her camera in her hands, but the kids are long gone. “I had a lot more planned for them to do! Why would they just run off like that?”

  “Want to take a break with me?”

  Her shoulders drop, and her cute face is scrunched. “I guess I don’t have a choice.”

  “I’m not going to take that personally.” Catching her hand, I give her a quick kiss after pulling her to her feet. “Let’s walk down to the bluff.”

  She slides her hand in the crook of my arm, and her tone brightens. “As long as you’re here, I can get some shots of you. Maybe with your shirt off?”

  As we descend into the small valley near a stream at the beginning of the tree line, Hana’s breath catches when she sees what we’ve done.

  Pepper arranged a picnic blanket with pillows and a stone vase of bright pink daisies. If Pep were here, I’d give her a high five. It looks amazing and really romantic.

  “What is this?” She walks forward, dropping to her knees and looking up at me.

  I kneel on the blanket and place my backpack beside us. “Pepper helped me with it.”

  Unzipping the bag, I take out a bottle of champagne and two silicone flutes, and the most important item of all.

  Hana’s blue eyes widen as she watches me. “Scar…”

  “Hana…” I clear my throat. “I wanted to do this the first day I met you, but it seemed crazy. Then as time passed, the only thing crazier was not doing it. Then everything blew up and I realized the true crazy would be to pull you into my world, making you a potential target for anyone wanting to hurt me.”

  “I’m not afraid.” Her voice is quiet but firm, so different from before.

  “Now we have no reason to fear. Our debts are paid, and I can come to you knowing my love won’t put you in danger.” Taking her hand, I study her slim, ivory hand in my large, olive one. “I’m not a prince, which is what you deserve, but I love you. I’ll live my life for you. I’ll take care of you and our babies…” She inhales sharply, and my eyes flicker to hers. She’s blinking fast, but I see the shine of tears. Sliding my thumb over her cheek, I lean in to kiss her gently. “Will you be my wife?”

  Her hands cup my cheeks, and she nods, pressing her lips to mine again. “I’ve always wanted to be your wife. I love you so much.”

  “Blake helped me find this through an antiques dealer.” Taking out the vintage, maroon-velvet box, I open the lid to reveal a platinum and gold diamond ring with a large carat stone in the center and nine smaller diamonds arranged in a circle around it. Lifting it from the box, I slide it onto the third finger of her left hand. “What do you think?”

  “It’s a daisy!” She tilts her hand side to side then cradles it against her chest, looking up at me with bright eyes. “I love it so much!”

  Pride swells in my chest as I look down at her, this amazing woman who stole my heart the first day I saw her. She’s going to be my wife.

  “We got it.” Shaking my head, I kind of can’t believe it.

  Blinking fast, she smiles, climbing onto my lap. “What do you mean? Got what?”

  “A happy ending.” Sliding my arms around her, I look up to the heavens, holding her tight against my chest. She always fills every crack in my heart. “I didn’t think we would.”

  Leaning her head back, she cups my cheek before kissing my lips. “We’re just getting started.”

  Thank you for reading FILTHY!

  I adore this couple so much–I hope you do, too.

  NEED MORE HANA & SCAR? (Yes, you do!)

  Click here to download a Special Hana + Scar BONUS STORY (link), and find out what’s next for this sexy, amazing couple…

  (Download here.)

  Villains will be exposed, Answers will be given, Kindles will be melted.

  FORBIDDEN is coming Dec. 15 (link)…

  “I had one job. Take him out.

  The only problem is, I want him more.”

  Dirk’s romance is a five-alarm-spicy age-gap, student-professor romance that is thrilling and kinky and answers all your questions. (Including, Can this romance get any hotter? Spoiler: YES, it can!)

  Secrets, lies, revenge, answers… and loads of SMOKIN’ HOT SEXY TIMES!

  Sign up and get a NEW RELEASE ALERT (link)!

  And/Or Text “TiaLouise” to 64600 to get a text alert when it’s live! (Text is U.S. only)

  Read FEARLESS Now (link)…

  Hutch Winston is a stubborn, broody former Marine hired to protect feisty, smart socialite Blake van Hamilton.

  Problem? She hates him.

  It’s thrilling romantic suspense mixed with sizzling HOT sexy times you will not be able to put down.

  Read it NOW for FREE in Kindle Unlimited (link)!

  *Also available on Audio (link).

  Keep clicking for a short sneak peek…

  Already read it?

  NEED MORE ultra-sexy, heroine in danger romantic suspense?

  ONE TO HOLD (link) is a red-hot “fling to forever” romance with twists and turns and so much sexy goodness…

  Read it NOW for FREE in Kindle Unlimited (link) or listen on Audio (link).

  Keep clicking for a short sneak peek…

  Never Miss a New Release or Sale!

  Sign up for my New Release newsletter and get a FREE Tia Louise Story Bundle!

  Sign up now! (link)

  And/Or get a text alert by texting “TiaLouise” to 64600.*

  (Text available U.S. only.)

  FEARLESS

  BY TIA LOUISE

  Hutch & Blake

  He’s intense, he’s fearless, and he’ll stop at nothing to save her.

  My job is to protect the innocent, but Blake van Hamilton has never been innocent.

  With killer curves, silky brown hair, and silvery-blue eyes, she’s been an inconvenient object of my lust since we were teens.

  Now I’ve been hired to guard her against a band of criminals who want her money, and maybe even her life.

  Still, I'm the last person she wants helping her.

  Blake van Hamilton hates me, but it won’t stop me from doing my job.

  Hutch Winston may be sexy as hell, but I won’t fall for his white knight, alpha-protector act.

  Not since he used it to ruin my life at sixteen.

  But when my best friend turns up dead and my uncle goes missing, Hutch is my only option.

  Moving into his family estate is the real test.

  It gets worse when I accidentally see him naked in the shower, moaning my name.

  I have to keep my head and my heart in line—not to mention my body.

  Every part of me wants him in every possible way.

  I may be fearless, but how I feel about him scares me most of all.

  (FEARLESS is a stand-alone, enemies-to-lovers romantic suspense novel. It contains an insanely hot alpha protector and the curvy, feisty socialite he’s hired to protect. The forced proximity angle sets it all ablaze. No cheating. No cliffhangers.)

  PROLOGUE

  Blake

  “Go back to the party.” The man’s voice is quietly menacing, black eyes glittering in the reflection of the green lawyer’s lamp. “Don’t make me remind you what happens when you get in my way.”

  The tiny, silver scar tingles above my left eyebrow, and my heart beats like a rabbit trying to escape my ribcage. I’m way out of my league with Victor Petrova, but I never back down from a bully.

  I’m more accustomed to standing up to bored, mean-girl bullies. You know the ones, with too much money and no imagination. This guy is on another level. He’s the embezzling accountant who’s sleeping with my mother, hurting my sister, and rumored to be connected to the mob type of bully.

  But I’m the only one who will face him.

  The last time I stood up to him, I ended up in the emergency department, and I confess, my confidence took a hit.

  Squaring my shoulders, I defy him. “It’s not a party, it’s a wake, and my father’s estate is most definitely my business, especially with my mother being… how she is.”

  Victor’s thin lips curl, exposing large teeth behind a groomed mustache. “How is your mother, Blake?”

  Exactly how you want her–blind to your bullshit. I don’t say it out loud.

  “She hasn’t been well since my father died. I’m the oldest, so if she’s incapable of doing business–”

  “She hired me to handle your father’s business. You’re only sixteen. Now stop being a little shit and run along. Don’t worry, I won’t touch your weekly allowance.”

  “The way you don’t touch my sister?”

  His eyes flash, and my pulse jumps. But he immediately controls his expression, leaning back with a slimy grin. “Jealous?”

  Bile floods my throat. “Hana’s only thirteen. If I find out what she said is true… it’ll be worse for you if I can prove it.”

  He shoves the brown folder forward and stands abruptly, rounding my father’s desk too fast. “Hana is an addict, and everyone knows it. Hurling accusations will only land you on the wrong side of what’s happening here.”

  “My sister likes to party, but she’s not a liar. Too bad for you, pedophilia went out with the seventies.”

  His meaty fist clenches, and a shudder races down my body. “You’ll shut your stupid mouth, or I’ll shut it for you.”

  Setting my jaw, I hold my eyes open, my posture straight, my tone steady. “I hope you are stupid enough to hit me again. It’ll be the last bit of evidence I need to get you out of our lives for good.”

  He stops just short of where I stand, unclenching his fist long enough to grasp my upper arm and jerk me hard enough to leave a bruise. “If you know what’s good for your mother, for your sister, and for you, you won’t ever threaten me again.”

  My feet skitter across the Persian rug as he drags me to the door and tosses me out of the room. A hall table breaks my fall with a loud crash, another bruise, and the heavy wooden door slams shut. The metallic sound of a key turning in the lock seals the deal.

  “Shit,” I hiss through gritted teeth.

  After my father was found dead in his chair at the club two weeks ago, my mother gave that rat Victor Petrova the keys to the kingdom. The doctors said it was a heart attack, even though Charles van Hamilton had no history of cardiovascular disease.

  Poor Mamá delayed her annual ski trip to St. Moritz by a week to play the role of the grieving widow, and she’s been in her room popping pills and fake-crying her way through bottles of champagne with her idiot friends ever since.

  No comfort for her two daughters, not that she ever has been. Not that dear ole Dad ever was either. He liked to say it took more than forty hours a week to support our privileged lifestyle, but it was bullshit.

  The van Hamiltons have more money than God, and Hana and I both have trust funds that will keep us wealthy well into retirement when we each turn twenty-one, should we choose to work. Dad only cared for us to look good in public and not embarrass him.

  Done and done. But behind closed doors…

  It’s my turn to make a fist, and I bang it against the deep green marble tabletop. Victor will ruin us, and I don’t have any allies in New York–at least, none who can help me with someone like him. I scrub my fingers against my forehead, threading them into my dark-brown hair and trying to think of something, anything to get him out of our lives.

  “Blake, is that you?” The deep voice startles me, and I turn so fast, a miniature knight in actual chain mail on a matching horse falls off the table.

  The man steps forward quickly and catches it, putting his body in direct proximity to mine, filling my nose with the rich scent of sage and citrus. It floods my brain with memories, and as he stands straighter, my throat grows tighter.

  Hutchence Winston is a blast from my father’s discarded past, a face I haven’t seen in years. A face that is now a grown man’s, towering over me with dark hair curling at his temples. He’s dressed in a proper suit for a wake, and his broad shoulders and muscular arms strain beneath the expensive fabric. My knees actually weaken.

  I’ve known a lot of men, and I’m not easily impressed. Still, he’s always had this effect on me, since we were kids. For a moment, I almost forget I have a very real problem.

  Key word: Almost.

  Clearing my throat, I slide my hands down, straightening the sheer black overlay on the short, ivory-silk dress I’m wearing.

  “Hutch.” I hold out a hand to shake. “What are you doing here? I thought the Winstons dropped off my father’s friends list years ago.”

  The truth is, the Winstons and the van Hamiltons have a prickly history, going back to the founding of Hamiltown, our namesake village near the South Carolina coast.

  It’s a long story for another day.

  Hutch’s dark brow lowers over his stunning pale green eyes made more stunning by his suntanned olive skin. A short beard covers his cheeks, accentuating his full lips, and he curls his perfect nose at me.

  “I’m not here for you or your father.” There’s the annoyed tone I remember. “I was visiting my dad while on my leave, and your uncle asked me to check on you. I assured him you were fine, but he insisted I come here in person.”

  “And here you are.” Crossing my arms, I do my best to pretend I don’t give a shit. “You know, I’ve never understood your relationship with my great uncle.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me. Have you ever had a real friendship in your life?”

  That stings, and I blink quickly to stop the burn in my eyes. Bastard.

  “Shows what you know.” Shaking my long hair back, I force a smile. “I guess you think being in the army makes you some kind of hero now?”

  “I’m an officer in the Marine Corps. I don’t know about hero, but it’s a worthwhile occupation.”

  He says it like another challenge, as if to ask what I’m doing with my life that’s so great, and it gives me an idea.

  Stepping forward, I place my hand on his solid forearm, lowering my voice. “I’m sorry. I was rude. It’s been a difficult week.”

  The corner of his left eye twitches. Hutch has known me too long to fall for any sweet act, but if I’m going to get his help, perhaps I can use the unspoken tension between us to my advantage.

  My touch doesn’t put him at ease, but his voice gentles. “I’m sure it’s been a hard time. Your uncle was worried you might need assistance… somehow.”

  “You’re so kind.”

  “I’m not kind. I don’t want to be here, and I’m sure you have handlers.”

  “You’ve always known everything.” I do my best to flirt, sliding my fingers along his Armani suit. “You pretend I’m the snob, but I think you’re far more snobbish than I am.”

  “I don’t play games, Blake.” He catches my hand from rising to his shoulder, and the muscle in his jaw moves. “I’ve fulfilled my obligation. You look fine to me.”

  “You look pretty fine to me, too.” Holding his hand, I pull it behind my back so my body presses to his, my small, teenage breasts flatten against his solid chest. His eyes flare, and I rise on my toes to speak in his ear, allowing my lips to brush his skin. “A little southern comfort would be nice.”