Surrender at Sunset (Tropical Destiny) - Softcover
Passion's hideaway
Ever since enduring a possibly career-ending injury, Miami superstar shortstop Carlos Bradley has retreated from the world. His life undergoes a radical makeover when he's convinced to hire a designer to restore his secluded island mansion to its former glory. Completely different from the women Carlos has known, interior decorator Virginia Andersen captivates him with her infectious spirit and the sensuality beneath her coolly professional demeanor.
The owner of a struggling design firm, Virginia can't believe her new employer is a baseball legend. But Carlos wants more than just her expertise. And when he insists she move into his tropical getaway during the renovations, Virginia soon finds herself sharing the irresistible playboy's bed. But when the media descends, she's thrust into the limelight and her past becomes an open book. Is she ready to overcome her doubts to fight for a future with the man of her dreams?
"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.
About the Author:
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:
Jamie Pope first fell in love with romance when her mother placed a novel in her hands at the age of thirteen. She became addicted to love stories and has been writing them ever since. When she's not writing her next book you can find her shopping for shoes or binge watching shows.
Carlos Bradley heard the faint sounds of voices coming from somewhere in his house as he lay in his bed. One male and one female. For a moment he was mildly curious as to whom the voices belonged to. He lived on the secluded side of a small island off the Florida coast. He had picked the location because it was almost junglelike. Hot and overgrown and tropical. At times he felt as if he was the only one on Earth. No guests. No visitors allowed. Just a cleaning woman and a groundskeeper who came once every other week.
It must be them talking. None of his friends would come down here, even though they had offered once they had learned of his bad news. But after a while the offers had stopped. His phone no longer rang. He was alone. As he wanted to be.
He pulled the covers over his head in a vain attempt to block out the bright sun that was streaming through his bedroom windows and tried to go back to sleep. It was probably well past noon, but he wanted darkness. Night was the only time he could shut his eyes and forget that the world was still going on without him.
"Carlos!" He heard the voice of his baby sister, Ava, and then felt her bounce onto the bed. "This bed is enormous. Is he even in here?"
"Yeah," his brother and Ava's twin, Elias, answered. "He's the lump in the middle." A hard fist came down on his shoulder.
The hit stung but Carlos, too tired to even make noise, said nothing, just pulled the covers away from his face and glared at his younger siblings. "What..." His mouth felt dry. His tongue heavy from not having been used in so long. He couldn't remember the last time he had spoken to anybody, much less carried on a conversation.
"What the hell are you doing here?" The twins were the only ones who still came around. They both led busy lives so he didn't see them much. But they were the only ones who attempted to keep his connection to the outside world.
"We came to see what you were up to." Ava gave him a once-over, concern in her eyes that hadn't shown up in her voice. "You look terrible."
"You look like shit," Elias said, staring at him.
"I'm healing. Get the hell out." He turned over and put a pillow over his face. He didn't want to see anybody. He didn't want to be around anybody. That was why he had escaped instead of staying in Miami, where all of his friends, colleagues and fans were. Why hadn't they gotten that through their thick heads by now?
"And I thought you were Mr. MVP. Mr. All-American.
Mr. Super Nice Guy Baseball Hero." Elias shook his head. "If your fans could see you now." His fans.
They wouldn't want to see him now. They wouldn't want to see him at all. Not like this. Not broken and useless.
He had only been good for one thing, and that was winning games. Now that he couldn't do that anymore, what was his purpose?
He was Mr. MVP, a star player since the day he'd picked up a glove. But that had all ended when his Achilles tendon had ruptured during the playoff game that had taken his team, the Miami Hammerheads, to the World Series. Surgery, rehab and six months away from baseball, and all he had to show for it was a nasty scar and decreased range of motion.
"How's your foot?" Elias asked him, seeming to have read his mind. His brother grabbed his leg and studied the scar on his heel. Carlos could have fought the examination, but frankly he was too tired to give a damn. Plus, Elias was a doctor, in his first year of surgical residency. Even though his brother was a pain in his ass right now, he trusted his opinion.
Elias pushed back on his toes, causing a slight twinge in his tendon that hadn't gone away since the operation. "Feels really tight," Elias said, rotating his foot. "Are you doing your exercises?"
He was quiet. He had been good about it until a few weeks ago, until his father's birthday arrived and it had hit him. He no longer had the two things that mattered most in his life. His father and the game.
Nothing seemed important anymore.
"That's such a nasty scar," Ava said, touching it. "He went to the best of the best, you'd think they'd find a way to make the scar look better."
"It would have been better if Mr. Overachiever here hadn't overdone it after the surgery. Thought he could go back normal activity, just like that. The wound got infected. You did more damage than good by overworking it."
"Thanks for the recap. Now get out." He didn't need the reminder. He knew he had screwed things up, but he'd wanted to go back so badly. It was bad enough that he'd missed the game of his life. He hadn't wanted to miss the next season. But instead of a quick recovery it had been setback after setback.
"You know how many hours I work. I barely get a day off. When I do, I come all the way from Miami to see you, the least you could do is be hospitable. Offer us some coffee. How about some lunch? A glass of lemonade? Something." Elias looked down at him, annoyed.
"What do you want?"
"To see you, big brother." Ava snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Mom was asking about you."
"I just talked to Mom. She's having a nice time in Costa Rica with her sisters."
"Yes, but since we live in the same state she thinks that we should spend time with you. I know you'd much rather be left alone, but I'm more scared of her than you. So we're here. Get over it."
Carlos sighed and wrapped his arm around Ava. He'd always had a soft spot for his baby sister. She had still been in college when their had father passed away, and at nine years her senior he had stepped in over the years in their father's absence. "She is scary," he admitted with a sigh.
"She's started working out," Elias said. "If I didn't have a foot and a hundred pounds on her, I'm pretty sure she could take me."
"Get up, Carlos," Ava said, rising from the bed. "Feed us. I do love this island but it's a pain to get here."
It looked as though Carlos didn't have much of a choice. Sometimes he viewed his younger siblings like a bad rash. Hard to get rid of. Everybody else had easily faded away once he'd gotten injured, but Elias and Ava had never left. And they wouldn't leave him today until he got out of bed.
He forced himself past the immediate, familiar feeling of tightness in his heel as he set his feet on the floor. One of the reasons he'd bought this house was because of the huge master suite. It contained a bedroom, bathroom and sitting room, and with the small fridge he kept in there, he didn't have to leave it for days at a time.
The house was enormous, much bigger than one man would ever need. But he had bought it because his father had liked it. It was oceanfront, secluded. The landscape around it made him feel as if he were in an undeveloped tropical country instead of on a little island off the coast of South Florida. His father had said it was a place that he could see a family spending their summers. He'd said it was a place built for a superstar. Carlos had bought it, thinking that his parents would spend their winters there and that the family would gather there for holidays. But when his father had died from a massive heart attack that had all changed.
His mother spent most of her time traveling around the world. Too active to stay still. Too sad to be around anything that reminded her of her husband. His older sister stayed in their native Maryland with her growing family who had their own traditions now. Elias was always working or studying, and Ava... Ava dated rich men. The house had stayed mostly empty for the past five years, but when Carlos had got hurt and Miami had become too much, it had been the only place he could think to go.
"I don't think I have much to offer you," he said as he led them into the massive kitchen. "I've got frozen pizza." He opened the freezer, revealing that it was stacked to the top with them.
"Why do you have so much pizza?" Ava asked. Carlos looked back at his sister, who was dressed head to toe in designer wear. She was a beautiful girl and she knew it. She spent most of her days maintaining her beauty. He would guess that nothing processed and frozen had passed her lips in years.
"I was the spokesman for their brand. They do a lot for pediatric cancer research so I donated my fee and they gave me a lifetime's supply of pizza."
"Oh, do you have any fresh spinach? I could go for a simple spinach salad."
"No." He preheated the oven and went back to the refrigerator. "It's either a sports drink or water. Take your pick."
Elias grinned at him. "I'll take a red one if you've got it. Ignore Miss Priss over here. Pizza is fine. Her rich fiancé can take her out to dinner later and feed her all the salad she wants."
"Speaking of rich fiancés." Ava looped her arm through his. "We've been searching for venues to get married next year and we are having a really hard time finding one we like."
"You mean one you like." Elias shook his head. "Your man doesn't give a damn where you get married. I think he would be happy going to city hall and saving a hundred grand."
"Nobody is talking to you, Eli."
"Oh, excuse me? Did I need to wait to be called on? I hadn't realized that we were back in elementary school."
"Cool it, you two," Carlos said firmly. He knew his siblings could go at it for hours once they got started, but they were closer to each other than to anybody else on the planet. They went to the same college and even now they lived next door to each other in matching town houses.
"He started it." Ava looked at Eli.
"Well, I'm finishing it. What were you saying, Ava?"
"I've loved this island since Daddy first brought us here as kids. I want to get married here, but there is no venue that's large enough." She looked up at him with the big, soulful brown eyes that had gotten her out of a lot of trouble when she was a kid. "But this place looks as if it could easily hold two hundred and fifty guests."
"You want to get married here?" He wasn't sure why he was surprised to hear that. She was the one who'd suggested he look for a house on this island five years ago.
"Yes, and I came to ask you to walk me down the aisle. Will you?"
He was surprisingly touched by her question. It seemed as if the only things he'd felt the past few months were anger and emptiness. "What about Mom? I thought she was going to walk you."
"I want you to do it. You take care of me. And if Daddy can't be there I want his favorite person in the world to."
"Okay," he said. It was all he could say. He couldn't turn her down, even if he wanted to.
Her eyes lit. "Okay to walking me down the aisle? Or okay to me having the wedding here?"
"Okay to both." His father would have wanted it that way. He would have wanted his baby girl to marry in a place that she loved, and it was Carlos's job to make sure all of his father's dreams came true. Even if he wasn't around to see them anymore.
"Thank you, Carlos!" She pulled him into a hard hug. "You going to fix up this place before the wedding, right?"
"Fix it up?" He looked around him. There was barely any furniture and the walls were white and bare but it looked fine to him.
"Yes, fix it up. Make it look more like a home than an abandoned oceanfront warehouse."
"I've got to agree with Ava on that one. This house looks like a big, expensive dump."
"Dump? It might be a bit sparse, but it's not a dump."
The twins looked at each other, communicating without words in a way that always drove him crazy.
"Fine. Whatever. I'll fix it up. What do you think I should do with it?"
"I don't know." Elias shrugged. "It's your place."
"Get an interior designer." Ava rolled her eyes.
"A what?"
"A decorator. You know, a professional person who will make this place look less like a rich serial killer lives here and more like the superstar athlete you are."
"Where do I get one of those? The phone book?"
"The internet?" Elias suggested.
Ava rolled her eyes. "You don't just pick a stranger. You get a personal recommendation."
"From who, exactly?"
"I don't know." She went into the freezer, took a pie out and placed in the oven. "Don't you have friends that have homes you like? You could ask one of them."
"I never paid attention to their houses." He truthfully had not. Plus, a lot of his player friends were married. Their wives took control of most of the household stuff.
"Well, what about your condo in Miami? Who did that?" Elias asked.
"It came like that. I bought the model unit."
They all were quiet for a moment. "What about that little inn we rented out for Mommy's birthday? It had just been redone. You liked it there, Carlos. I can call and find out who did it."
He had liked it there. It was so different from all the other places in Miami, unlike all the other places he had stayed while on vacation. He had felt truly relaxed then, one of the rare times he'd felt that way since he became a man. He couldn't describe what the place had looked like, but it had had a homeyness to it that had made him not want to leave.
"Okay. Let me know who it is and I'll set it up."
Virginia Andersen rubbed her forehead as she reentered her tiny rented office. The Miami heat and the stress of the day were finally getting to her. She had just returned from Mrs. Westerfield's house for the second time that day after spending two hours showing her drape samples.
In every color imaginable.
It wasn't as if Virginia minded showing the elderly woman the drapes. It was her job as an interior designer to do so. And since Mrs. Westerfield was her only paying client at the moment, she didn't really have a choice. She just had one complaint. It was a small one, really. The elderly woman used her more like a personal assistant than an interior designer. Virginia walked her bichon frise, went to the grocery store with her and helped her picked out what to wear on her dates with someone she referred to as her gentlemen caller. And none of that bothered her. Mrs. Westerfield was fabulous with her love of vintage clothes, art and Latin culture. It was just... It wasn't her job.
And when her parents called to see what she was working on—and they always wanted to know what she was working on—she wanted to tell them she was using her eye for design and color to decorate beautiful homes, not picking up dog mess.
It must be them talking. None of his friends would come down here, even though they had offered once they had learned of his bad news. But after a while the offers had stopped. His phone no longer rang. He was alone. As he wanted to be.
He pulled the covers over his head in a vain attempt to block out the bright sun that was streaming through his bedroom windows and tried to go back to sleep. It was probably well past noon, but he wanted darkness. Night was the only time he could shut his eyes and forget that the world was still going on without him.
"Carlos!" He heard the voice of his baby sister, Ava, and then felt her bounce onto the bed. "This bed is enormous. Is he even in here?"
"Yeah," his brother and Ava's twin, Elias, answered. "He's the lump in the middle." A hard fist came down on his shoulder.
The hit stung but Carlos, too tired to even make noise, said nothing, just pulled the covers away from his face and glared at his younger siblings. "What..." His mouth felt dry. His tongue heavy from not having been used in so long. He couldn't remember the last time he had spoken to anybody, much less carried on a conversation.
"What the hell are you doing here?" The twins were the only ones who still came around. They both led busy lives so he didn't see them much. But they were the only ones who attempted to keep his connection to the outside world.
"We came to see what you were up to." Ava gave him a once-over, concern in her eyes that hadn't shown up in her voice. "You look terrible."
"You look like shit," Elias said, staring at him.
"I'm healing. Get the hell out." He turned over and put a pillow over his face. He didn't want to see anybody. He didn't want to be around anybody. That was why he had escaped instead of staying in Miami, where all of his friends, colleagues and fans were. Why hadn't they gotten that through their thick heads by now?
"And I thought you were Mr. MVP. Mr. All-American.
Mr. Super Nice Guy Baseball Hero." Elias shook his head. "If your fans could see you now." His fans.
They wouldn't want to see him now. They wouldn't want to see him at all. Not like this. Not broken and useless.
He had only been good for one thing, and that was winning games. Now that he couldn't do that anymore, what was his purpose?
He was Mr. MVP, a star player since the day he'd picked up a glove. But that had all ended when his Achilles tendon had ruptured during the playoff game that had taken his team, the Miami Hammerheads, to the World Series. Surgery, rehab and six months away from baseball, and all he had to show for it was a nasty scar and decreased range of motion.
"How's your foot?" Elias asked him, seeming to have read his mind. His brother grabbed his leg and studied the scar on his heel. Carlos could have fought the examination, but frankly he was too tired to give a damn. Plus, Elias was a doctor, in his first year of surgical residency. Even though his brother was a pain in his ass right now, he trusted his opinion.
Elias pushed back on his toes, causing a slight twinge in his tendon that hadn't gone away since the operation. "Feels really tight," Elias said, rotating his foot. "Are you doing your exercises?"
He was quiet. He had been good about it until a few weeks ago, until his father's birthday arrived and it had hit him. He no longer had the two things that mattered most in his life. His father and the game.
Nothing seemed important anymore.
"That's such a nasty scar," Ava said, touching it. "He went to the best of the best, you'd think they'd find a way to make the scar look better."
"It would have been better if Mr. Overachiever here hadn't overdone it after the surgery. Thought he could go back normal activity, just like that. The wound got infected. You did more damage than good by overworking it."
"Thanks for the recap. Now get out." He didn't need the reminder. He knew he had screwed things up, but he'd wanted to go back so badly. It was bad enough that he'd missed the game of his life. He hadn't wanted to miss the next season. But instead of a quick recovery it had been setback after setback.
"You know how many hours I work. I barely get a day off. When I do, I come all the way from Miami to see you, the least you could do is be hospitable. Offer us some coffee. How about some lunch? A glass of lemonade? Something." Elias looked down at him, annoyed.
"What do you want?"
"To see you, big brother." Ava snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Mom was asking about you."
"I just talked to Mom. She's having a nice time in Costa Rica with her sisters."
"Yes, but since we live in the same state she thinks that we should spend time with you. I know you'd much rather be left alone, but I'm more scared of her than you. So we're here. Get over it."
Carlos sighed and wrapped his arm around Ava. He'd always had a soft spot for his baby sister. She had still been in college when their had father passed away, and at nine years her senior he had stepped in over the years in their father's absence. "She is scary," he admitted with a sigh.
"She's started working out," Elias said. "If I didn't have a foot and a hundred pounds on her, I'm pretty sure she could take me."
"Get up, Carlos," Ava said, rising from the bed. "Feed us. I do love this island but it's a pain to get here."
It looked as though Carlos didn't have much of a choice. Sometimes he viewed his younger siblings like a bad rash. Hard to get rid of. Everybody else had easily faded away once he'd gotten injured, but Elias and Ava had never left. And they wouldn't leave him today until he got out of bed.
He forced himself past the immediate, familiar feeling of tightness in his heel as he set his feet on the floor. One of the reasons he'd bought this house was because of the huge master suite. It contained a bedroom, bathroom and sitting room, and with the small fridge he kept in there, he didn't have to leave it for days at a time.
The house was enormous, much bigger than one man would ever need. But he had bought it because his father had liked it. It was oceanfront, secluded. The landscape around it made him feel as if he were in an undeveloped tropical country instead of on a little island off the coast of South Florida. His father had said it was a place that he could see a family spending their summers. He'd said it was a place built for a superstar. Carlos had bought it, thinking that his parents would spend their winters there and that the family would gather there for holidays. But when his father had died from a massive heart attack that had all changed.
His mother spent most of her time traveling around the world. Too active to stay still. Too sad to be around anything that reminded her of her husband. His older sister stayed in their native Maryland with her growing family who had their own traditions now. Elias was always working or studying, and Ava... Ava dated rich men. The house had stayed mostly empty for the past five years, but when Carlos had got hurt and Miami had become too much, it had been the only place he could think to go.
"I don't think I have much to offer you," he said as he led them into the massive kitchen. "I've got frozen pizza." He opened the freezer, revealing that it was stacked to the top with them.
"Why do you have so much pizza?" Ava asked. Carlos looked back at his sister, who was dressed head to toe in designer wear. She was a beautiful girl and she knew it. She spent most of her days maintaining her beauty. He would guess that nothing processed and frozen had passed her lips in years.
"I was the spokesman for their brand. They do a lot for pediatric cancer research so I donated my fee and they gave me a lifetime's supply of pizza."
"Oh, do you have any fresh spinach? I could go for a simple spinach salad."
"No." He preheated the oven and went back to the refrigerator. "It's either a sports drink or water. Take your pick."
Elias grinned at him. "I'll take a red one if you've got it. Ignore Miss Priss over here. Pizza is fine. Her rich fiancé can take her out to dinner later and feed her all the salad she wants."
"Speaking of rich fiancés." Ava looped her arm through his. "We've been searching for venues to get married next year and we are having a really hard time finding one we like."
"You mean one you like." Elias shook his head. "Your man doesn't give a damn where you get married. I think he would be happy going to city hall and saving a hundred grand."
"Nobody is talking to you, Eli."
"Oh, excuse me? Did I need to wait to be called on? I hadn't realized that we were back in elementary school."
"Cool it, you two," Carlos said firmly. He knew his siblings could go at it for hours once they got started, but they were closer to each other than to anybody else on the planet. They went to the same college and even now they lived next door to each other in matching town houses.
"He started it." Ava looked at Eli.
"Well, I'm finishing it. What were you saying, Ava?"
"I've loved this island since Daddy first brought us here as kids. I want to get married here, but there is no venue that's large enough." She looked up at him with the big, soulful brown eyes that had gotten her out of a lot of trouble when she was a kid. "But this place looks as if it could easily hold two hundred and fifty guests."
"You want to get married here?" He wasn't sure why he was surprised to hear that. She was the one who'd suggested he look for a house on this island five years ago.
"Yes, and I came to ask you to walk me down the aisle. Will you?"
He was surprisingly touched by her question. It seemed as if the only things he'd felt the past few months were anger and emptiness. "What about Mom? I thought she was going to walk you."
"I want you to do it. You take care of me. And if Daddy can't be there I want his favorite person in the world to."
"Okay," he said. It was all he could say. He couldn't turn her down, even if he wanted to.
Her eyes lit. "Okay to walking me down the aisle? Or okay to me having the wedding here?"
"Okay to both." His father would have wanted it that way. He would have wanted his baby girl to marry in a place that she loved, and it was Carlos's job to make sure all of his father's dreams came true. Even if he wasn't around to see them anymore.
"Thank you, Carlos!" She pulled him into a hard hug. "You going to fix up this place before the wedding, right?"
"Fix it up?" He looked around him. There was barely any furniture and the walls were white and bare but it looked fine to him.
"Yes, fix it up. Make it look more like a home than an abandoned oceanfront warehouse."
"I've got to agree with Ava on that one. This house looks like a big, expensive dump."
"Dump? It might be a bit sparse, but it's not a dump."
The twins looked at each other, communicating without words in a way that always drove him crazy.
"Fine. Whatever. I'll fix it up. What do you think I should do with it?"
"I don't know." Elias shrugged. "It's your place."
"Get an interior designer." Ava rolled her eyes.
"A what?"
"A decorator. You know, a professional person who will make this place look less like a rich serial killer lives here and more like the superstar athlete you are."
"Where do I get one of those? The phone book?"
"The internet?" Elias suggested.
Ava rolled her eyes. "You don't just pick a stranger. You get a personal recommendation."
"From who, exactly?"
"I don't know." She went into the freezer, took a pie out and placed in the oven. "Don't you have friends that have homes you like? You could ask one of them."
"I never paid attention to their houses." He truthfully had not. Plus, a lot of his player friends were married. Their wives took control of most of the household stuff.
"Well, what about your condo in Miami? Who did that?" Elias asked.
"It came like that. I bought the model unit."
They all were quiet for a moment. "What about that little inn we rented out for Mommy's birthday? It had just been redone. You liked it there, Carlos. I can call and find out who did it."
He had liked it there. It was so different from all the other places in Miami, unlike all the other places he had stayed while on vacation. He had felt truly relaxed then, one of the rare times he'd felt that way since he became a man. He couldn't describe what the place had looked like, but it had had a homeyness to it that had made him not want to leave.
"Okay. Let me know who it is and I'll set it up."
Virginia Andersen rubbed her forehead as she reentered her tiny rented office. The Miami heat and the stress of the day were finally getting to her. She had just returned from Mrs. Westerfield's house for the second time that day after spending two hours showing her drape samples.
In every color imaginable.
It wasn't as if Virginia minded showing the elderly woman the drapes. It was her job as an interior designer to do so. And since Mrs. Westerfield was her only paying client at the moment, she didn't really have a choice. She just had one complaint. It was a small one, really. The elderly woman used her more like a personal assistant than an interior designer. Virginia walked her bichon frise, went to the grocery store with her and helped her picked out what to wear on her dates with someone she referred to as her gentlemen caller. And none of that bothered her. Mrs. Westerfield was fabulous with her love of vintage clothes, art and Latin culture. It was just... It wasn't her job.
And when her parents called to see what she was working on—and they always wanted to know what she was working on—she wanted to tell them she was using her eye for design and color to decorate beautiful homes, not picking up dog mess.
"About this title" may belong to another edition of this title.
- PublisherHarlequin Kimani
- Publication date2016
- ISBN 10 0373864388
- ISBN 13 9780373864386
- BindingMass Market Paperback
- Number of pages224
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