Slow Dancing at Sunrise

Rendezvous Falls #1

 When accountant Whitney Foster’s carefully calculated life blows up, she escapes to the one place that’s always felt like home. But Rendezvous Falls has changed since she’s been away. Her aunt Helen’s winery is in trouble. And she doesn’t trust the sexy, surly stranger working the vineyard as far as she can throw him.

Luke Rutledge would do anything for Helen, who’s been like a mother to him. Revive the winery? Sure. Repair her property? No problem. Tolerate Helen’s infuriating, big-shot niece? Well…maybe. But as he and Whitney are forced to work together to rebuild the business, her chilly facade reveals a woman as complex and intoxicating as a fine merlot. Throw in a matchmaking book club hell-bent on happily-ever-after and it’s a potent cocktail.

Love should never be calculated. But it doesn’t take Whitney’s math skills to see that this is adding to up to one tantalizing adventure…

Other Books in the Series


Whitney’s chin pointed up toward the second floor of the main house. Her neck was long and graceful. There was a vein pulsing at the base of it. She blinked a few times, and for a horrifying moment, he thought there might be tears shimmering there in her eyes. Damn it. The last thing he needed was to have Helen’s niece crying in his truck. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but she beat him to it.

“I’ll concede I wasn’t prepared for rain.” Her mouth barely moved, her words forced through clenched teeth. “But a gentleman would have looked away or…something.”

His low laughter was enough to crack that brittle shell of hers. She turned to face him, eyes wide.

“See, Whitney, that’s where you made your biggest mistake.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t going out for a day hike with a storm coming.” He talked over her attempted objection. “Your biggest mistake was thinking I’m any kind of gentleman.”

The corner of her mouth tipped up into an almost smile. “But you said you weren’t a jackass.”

“There’s a hell of a lot of real estate between jackass and gentleman, babe.”

Her half smile faltered, then returned. That familiar spark appeared in her eyes. The crack in her veneer had been repaired, and the sharp edge returned to her voice. Any other guy might have been annoyed, but Luke was oddly relieved to see Whitney back in fighting form.

“The fact that you just referred to me as ‘babe’ tells me you’re a lot closer to jackass than you think.”

He lifted his shoulder. “I never told you which end of the spectrum I fell on.”

The rain had slowed to a steady drizzle. She reached for the door handle, looking over her shoulder with a smirk.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure you just did.”

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