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Blossoms Of Love
Blossoms Of Love
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Blossoms Of Love

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Blossoms Of Love
J.M. Jeffries

Her love may be the ultimate prize…Greer Courtland and her family have been designing floats for Pasadena’s Rose Parade all her life—but have rarely had a client as determined as Daniel Torres. The talk show host intends to win the prize for best float in a much-publicized charity wager. As they spend time together, he makes it clear that he intends to win Greer, too. But the former Rose Parade queen isn’t dazzled by wealth and fame—even when delivered in a sexy and sensual package.From the moment he invites her on his show, Daniel is enthralled by Greer. Beautiful, effervescent and talented, she keeps him grounded in a way no one ever has before. But as their relationship becomes tabloid fodder, Greer backs away. And unless he’s willing to be vulnerable and expose his heart, Daniel risks letting wonderful possibilities of forever float away…

Her love may be the ultimate prize...

Greer Courtland and her family have been designing floats for Pasadena’s Rose Parade all her life—but have rarely had a client as determined as Daniel Torres. The talk show host intends to win the prize for best float in a much-publicized charity wager. As they spend time together, he makes it clear that he intends to win Greer, too. But the former Rose Parade queen isn’t dazzled by wealth and fame—even when delivered in a sexy and sensual package.

From the moment he invites her on his show, Daniel is enthralled by Greer. Beautiful, effervescent and talented, she keeps him grounded in a way no one ever has before. But as their relationship becomes tabloid fodder, Greer backs away. And unless he’s willing to be vulnerable and expose his heart, Daniel risks letting wonderful possibilities of forever float away...

“Did you know that flowers speak their own language?”

When he gave her a look, she explained, “For instance, the red rose means beauty and love,” which was probably why she loved red roses the best.

“What about yellow?” Daniel asked.

“Jealousy and envy. And daisies stand for innocence,” she added.

“How do you know this?”

“A book called The Language of Flowers. It was published in the 1800s. My mother has a copy.” Greer adored the book. She’d spent many a drama-filled, teenaged evenings reading the poetry and studying the meanings.

“Remind me to check with you before I send you flowers.”

“Are you planning on sending me flowers?”

He grinned at her. “Maybe.”

She smiled happily. Despite her years designing and decorating floats, she’d never gotten over her love of flowers. She inhaled their scent and turned to him, and he surprised her by sliding his arms around her and pulling her close for a kiss.

His lips were warm and seductive against hers. And for a second she was too surprised to respond.

Dear Reader (#ulink_6ac90177-2870-5aee-ab6e-0b115fdce325),

Greer Courtland has been designing Rose Parade floats since high school. When Daniel Torres enters into a friendly wager with a friend on who could win the best trophy, she does her best to provide him with the winning float design. Little did they know that this competition would lead to a lifetime of love and happiness. Join Greer and Daniel as they march through the twists and turns of passion and create their own little parade with the language of love.

The Rose Parade on New Year’s Day is one of America’s grandest traditions. With dozens of floats decorated in flowers, marching bands and drill teams, it’s an incredible spectacle. Viewers camp out on Colorado Boulevard to get the best curbside seats while knowledgeable TV commentators provide background information. This year, Bob Eubanks and Stephanie Edwards, who have been the cornerstones of the parade commentary for over thirty years, announced their retirement. Their witty, intelligent comments will be much missed.

Much love,

Miriam and Jackie

Blossoms of Love

J.M. Jeffries

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

JACKIE AND MIRIAM live in Southern California. When they aren’t writing, Jackie is trying to take a nap and Miriam plays with her grandchildren. Jackie thought she wanted to be a lawyer until she met Miriam and decided to be a writer instead. Miriam always wanted to be a writer from her earliest childhood when she taught herself to read at age four. Both are avid readers and can usually be found with their noses in a book, or, now that it’s the twenty-first century, an e-reader. Check out their blog at jmjeffries.com (http://www.jmjeffries.com).

To all the loyal volunteers who show up year after year to help decorate the floats for the Rose Parade. They put in long hours, and the rewards are seeing their chosen floats drive down Colorado Boulevard. Who else can say, “I helped decorate that float”?

Acknowledgments (#ulink_70d00844-f58d-543e-a3d5-a2dd5a9ebe1b)

Jackie: For Miriam, because she puts up with me even though she doesn’t have regular mayonnaise in the house.

Miriam: For Jackie. I like mayo made with olive oil. It’s healthy and doesn’t taste as nasty as she says.

Contents

Cover (#u5e37c0eb-40d8-5c06-af02-dda8ff5dc5d9)

Back Cover Text (#ue9174e9b-9d27-58dd-89cb-ca9f804438d8)

Introduction (#udd3c1bf3-fc68-5512-a097-f384cc65d7ba)

Dear Reader (#ulink_d9df6bfc-31e4-5123-8397-e19c263f69b6)

Title Page (#u180f6be1-59de-583b-ba38-36d5ed7a334a)

About the Author (#u81eed505-8560-59b6-a542-713441f4d96d)

Dedication (#u3118accd-cc7f-5391-bc15-ae910fa43495)

Acknowledgments (#ulink_a7992646-ff3b-541d-97a2-bfe71e9a4a31)

Prologue (#ulink_e308fb18-4596-5a95-8876-69f65554ae7f)

Chapter 1 (#ulink_a7280ace-30bb-5193-8c2a-6a6e6f857476)

Chapter 2 (#ulink_97f49019-94f5-5d58-b8df-f87c0df0f6f7)

Chapter 3 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue (#ulink_5a2b3b19-8b16-5031-8e40-8edf2cdce80c)

Daniel Torres sat in his parents’ large family room, his brothers situated around him, along with his best friend, Logan Pierce. The room had been the center of his life since birth, large enough to accommodate Daniel, his four brothers and two sisters. Today, as was tradition, they were all there, except for Nina, who, with her new husband, had decided to stay in Reno. His other sister, Lola, was sick and comfortably ensconced in her childhood bedroom so their mom could take care of her.

As a child, Daniel and his friends used to camp out in this room, and he had fond memories of making popcorn, sharing a stolen beer and watching movies. These days it looked different. Several years ago, his parents installed a whole-wall entertainment system with a superlarge TV, surround sound and two rows of home-theater recliners. Off to one side was a tiny galley kitchen, where his mother bustled about, making sure everyone had enough food. As though anyone would starve in this house.

Now the group sat in the leather recliners watching as the Rose Parade wound its way down Colorado Boulevard. The watching of the Rose Parade had been a Torres tradition ever since his parents had sponsored a float years ago.

Logan nudged Daniel’s elbow. “What are we competing on this year?”

Daniel wasn’t quite certain how they’d gotten into this yearly competition, but somehow it had grown into the loser donating $100,000 to the winner’s favorite charity. “No more jumping frogs, rolling cheese wheels or fighting thumbs.”

“You want something serious this time?” Logan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Daniel thought about that for a moment. “Not serious, but not weird.” Logan excelled in weird. That was part of the former pro football player’s nightly newscast, along with sports. Daniel had his own show—a morning edition that was more entertainment than news.

“What do you consider not serious, but not weird?” Logan took a long drink of his morning coffee. He was a night owl, while Daniel was usually up by four in the morning and at the station by four thirty to get ready for his show.

“A football game is serious. Anything that involves Spam is weird.” The first float appeared on the screen with a banner underneath it claiming it was the winner of the Sweepstakes Trophy. “I’ve got an idea. Let’s sponsor a float for the Rose Parade.”

Daniel looked at his friend, once again struck by their different appearances. Logan looked like the typical California surfer with his sun-bleached blond hair, deep-set blue eyes and muscular body. Daniel was the product of his black Brazilian father whose own father emigrated from Bermuda and a mother whose ancestry was unknown. His eyes were a deep amber, his skin the color of his favorite mocha Frappuccino, and he was more lean and slender than muscular.

Logan pointed at the screen. “You mean a fancy float like that? With flowers?”

“Why not?”

“What would be the stakes?”

“The usual—your charity or mine.”

Daniel had sponsored the Wounded Warrior Project for several years. Logan supported the American Red Cross. “We have to win a trophy.”

“There are like twenty trophies,” Logan said.

“The Sweepstakes is the most prestigious,” Nicholas, Daniel’s fraternal twin brother, put in.

“I think you should try for the Princesses’ Trophy. It’s for the most beautiful float,” Sebastian, another brother, threw out.

“Remember that dog pool a couple of years ago? That float had everything.” Nicholas’s eyes glazed over with the memory. He loved animals and would adopt every stray he found if he didn’t have such a demanding job as a choreographer for Broadway musicals. He’d recently been asked to bring his talents back to Los Angeles for a Dancing with the Stars clone.

“I think you should try for the Bob Hope Humor Trophy. That’s my favorite,” Matteus said. He was the only Torres who had chosen to move away from the family’s heritage and into a profession outside the entertainment industry. He was a cop in West Hollywood.

Everyone started to weigh in on their preferences. Sebastian, the eldest Torres brother, supported the Governor’s Trophy. Even as he watched TV, his flexible magician’s fingers shuffled a deck of cards. He never went anywhere without them, it seemed to Daniel, who was used to Sebastian’s constant card tricks.

“I was joking about the float,” Daniel said when the arguments wound down.

“But I like it,” Logan said. “It’s different. It’s splashy. We could have a ton of fun with this.”

Daniel watched the TV for a few moments, admiring the different floats. His thoughts churned and his imagination went into overdrive. He could really promote this, getting a lot of mileage for their charities. His station would probably contribute something, and, because their respective audiences seemed to enjoy their lighthearted competition, they could set up an independent account for private donations, as well.

“Okay,” Daniel finally said. “We can do this.”

Logan punched his arm. “Sure we can.”

Daniel got up to fix himself another cup of coffee and snagged a cookie off the plate his mother had just refilled. Ideas spun in his head. While he was great with promotion ideas, he didn’t know anything about floats.

“Is that a glint of panic in your eyes?” Manny Torres, Daniel’s father, said with a smile.

“What do I know about floats?” Daniel asked as he poured cream into his coffee.

“Not a thing.”

“How am I going to pull this off? Three years in a row, I’ve lost this competition with Logan. Look at him. He’s gloating. In his head, I’ve already written a check to his charity.”

Manny put a hand on Daniel’s arm. “Son, there are times in a man’s life, no matter how grown he is, when he needs to listen to his papa.”

Daniel studied his father’s face. “You have a guy?”

“Yes.” Manny’s smile grew. “Consider it done.”

“What about Logan?”

Manny glanced at Logan, fondness in his eyes. “I love Logan as though he was my own, but you come first.”

Logan’s head was bent over his iPhone, his fingers flying over the touch screen. He looked up and glanced back at Daniel. “Did you know there are a number of companies who do nothing but build floats for the Rose Parade?”

Daniel shook his head. “I had no idea.”

Logan waved his phone. “May the best man win.” He put his phone to his ear and got up, walking away to a quieter corner. “I know it’s New Year’s Day, but I need you to get me an appointment on the fourth with Steinmen and Sons.” He paused, listening, no doubt, to his assistant, who seemed to be on call 24/7. “They build floats.”

Manny nudged Daniel and gave him a thumbs-up sign. “Don’t worry, son. Tomorrow, all will be done.”

Chapter 1 (#ulink_dbfc1c6a-c785-51c7-8b2c-42b2be329c4b)

Daniel hadn’t known what he was getting himself into when he suggested he and Logan sponsor floats in the Rose Parade. He’d thought it would be a simple procedure and the magic would happen on its own. But it was one decision after another. How long did he want the float to be? How high? What colors? Which theme? Who, what, where, when, why and how had turned into dozens of meetings despite hiring a company that specialized in float design. Most of his on-air life was taken care of for him. But the decision to sponsor a float had absorbed his off-screen life.

And now, ten months later, the final product was on the verge of emerging.

He sat on a chair in the interview area of the set, about to unveil the design to his viewing audience. The last six weeks had been the most intense, and now Courtland Float Designs had sent a representative to his show who would be giving weekly updates leading up to the parade.

“My special guest today,” Daniel said, “is Miss Greer Courtland.” He’d met her father for their initial meetings, but he hadn’t met the woman who’d actually designed the float. He stood and clapped his hands.

The pretty woman appeared on the edge of the stage, looking a little nervous. She smiled at him, and he beckoned her forward. She walked across the set almost daintily.

Greer Courtland was a petite woman, maybe five foot four, with pixie-cut hair. She wore a beige silk sheath that clung to her beautiful curves. Daniel couldn’t help the immediate attraction he felt to her. Her skin was a lovely, warm nutmeg. Dark brown eyes, almost black, dominated her oval face. Her lips were full and inviting. Too inviting. Daniel could hardly look away from her. She was, in a word, exquisite.

“Welcome to my show,” Daniel said, waiting for her to sit.

She perched on the edge of the chair for a second before sliding back and crossing her long, slender legs. “Thank you for inviting me.” Her voice was low and sensual.