LITMIR.BIZ

      About the Author

      LEANNE BANKS, a USA TODAY bestselling author of romance and 2002 winner of the prestigious Booksellers’ Best Award, lives in her native Virginia with her husband, son and daughter. Recognised for both her sensual and humorous writing with two Career Achievement Awards from Romantic Times BOOKclub, Leanne likes creating a story with a few grins, a generous kick of sensuality and characters that hang around after the book is finished. Leanne believes romance readers are the best readers in the world because they understand that love is the greatest miracle of all. Contact Leanne online at [email protected] or write to her at PO Box 1442, Midlothian, VA 23113, USA. An SAE (with return postage) for a reply would be greatly appreciated.

      One

      “I have an announcement to make,” Patrick Elliott said to the roomful of Elliotts, interrupting the roar of conversation among the nearly fifteen present for the New Year’s Eve celebration. Patrick had stipulated that only family members and spouses attend the gathering.

      The announcement must be big news, Gannon Elliott thought as he stood next to his brother Liam. Curious, Gannon studied his grandfather as he held court across the den of the family home in the Hamptons. The Christmas decorations would come down tomorrow, but tonight the lights on the trees twinkled in three of the rooms on this level of the nearly eight-thousand-foot turn-of-the-century home. The house his grandmother had lovingly furnished had provided a haven for the Elliotts through the births and, tragically, through the deaths of children and through the ever-increasing power and wealth of Patrick Elliott and his heirs.

      Gannon’s Irish-immigrant grandfather might be seventy-seven, but he was still sharp as a razor. He made dominating the magazine-publishing world look like a piece of cake, with magazines that covered everything from serious news to celebrity watching, showbiz and fashion.

      “But it’s not midnight,” cracked Bridget, Gannon’s younger sister, in response to their grandfather. “You have the night off, Grandfather. Did you forget it’s New Year’s Eve?”

      Patrick’s eyes sparkled as he wagged his finger at her. “How could I forget with you here to remind me?”

      Grinning, Bridget dipped her head and lifted her glass in response. Gannon shook his head and took a swallow of whiskey. His brash sister always seemed to be stirring the pot when it came to their grandfather.

      Pausing for a moment, Patrick glanced at Maeve, his petite wife of more than fifty years. Patrick might be the workaholic lion who had built a publishing empire, but Maeve was the one woman who could soothe the savage beast.

      The love and commitment emanating from both their gazes never failed to humble Gannon, arousing a gnawing sensation in his stomach, a vague dissatisfaction that he refused to explore. He mentally slammed the door on the feeling and watched his grandmother Maeve, love shining in her eyes as she nodded at his grandfather.

      Patrick looked back at the family assembled by his invitation. “I’ve decided to retire.”

      Gannon nearly dropped his glass of whiskey. He’d figured the old man was so wedded to his conglomerate that he would spend his last moments on earth making another deal. Murmurs and whispers skittered through the room like mice.

      “Holy—”

      “Oh my God.”

      “Do you think he’s sick?”

      Patrick shook his head and lifted his hand in a quieting motion. “I’m not sick. It’s just time. I have to choose a successor, and because all of you have performed so well with the various magazines, the choice is difficult. I’ve decided the only fair way to choose is to give each of you an opportunity to prove yourself.”

      “What on earth is he doing now?” Bridget whispered.

      “Do you know anything about this?” Gannon asked his brother Liam, who worked for the conglomerate rather than one of the individual magazines. Everyone knew Liam was the closest of any grandchild to Patrick.

      Liam shook his head, looking just as stunned as everyone else in the room. “Not a clue.”

      Like the rest of the family, Gannon knew that the four top magazines were headed by Patrick’s sons and daughter. Gannon’s own father, Michael, was editor in chief of Pulse magazine, a publication known for cutting-edge serious news.

      “I will choose from the editors in chief of our most successful magazines. Whichever magazine makes the largest profit proportionally will see its editor in chief take over the reins of Elliott Publication Holdings.”

      Complete silence followed. A bomb wouldn’t have been more effective.

      Three seconds passed, and Gannon saw shock cross the faces of his uncles and cousins. He looked across the room at his father, who looked as if he’d been hit on the head with a two-by-four.

      Bridget gave a sound of disgust. “This is insane. How can it work? Do you realize that since I work for Charisma I’ll be working against my own father?”

      Liam shrugged. “Is that any worse than pitting brother against brother, brother against sister?”

      “Shane against Finola?” Bridget added in disbelief about their aunt and uncle. “They’re twins, for Pete’s sake. Someone has to talk to Grandfather and make him see reason.”

      Finola stepped next to Bridget and shook her head at her father. “He won’t be changing his mind. He’s got that ‘till hell freezes over’ expression on his face. I’ve seen it before,” she said with a trace of bitterness.

      “It’s not fair,” Bridget said.

      Finola had a faraway look in her eyes. “He has his own definition of fairness,” she said softly, then seemed to

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