Copyright © 2017 by Savannah Blaize
First Box Set E-book Publication: April2017
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Cover by: JayAheer
www.simplydefinedart.com
Edited by: BelindaHolmes
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Table ofContents
Table of Contents
Dedication
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Dedication
This book has taken the longslow boat to self-publication. It has gone through many hands, hadmany tweaks and changes in editing, but it has arrived triumphantat the finish line, as my debut novel. I am relieved, proud andthankful to Chloe and Todd for taking me, and everyone concerned,on this adventure.
Throughout this process mybeautiful family and gorgeous friends have contributed with wordsof encouragement, faith in me, and a strong belief in the stories Ican produce.
A special shout out to my OCDwork family, who encouraged me every day to go into my office, shutthe door and “just write”. They passed around each chapter as Iwrote it, and chatted amongst themselves about Team Todd and TeamPatrick. Their excitement was contagious, and spurred me on toproduce better scenes.
A special mention to :
My editor Belinda Holmes. Thankyou for “hearing” my voice, and encouraging me to sing.
MRWG you guys ROCK
MGM I love you.
Dot, you are such a gorgeouswoman, and my number one fan. Here is the last chapter you havebeen anticipating.
John Harding, a very talentedartist and friend www.hardingsart.com
Dad, I wish you were here tosee me published. But I know you are watching.
PROLOGUE
A drum rollheralded the finale of the summer season at the Lido. The audiencestrained forward to catch their first glimpse of the cabaretdancers’ colourful and elaborate costumes. The house lights dimmedand the strategically placed spotlights blinked on, illuminatingthe stage. The atmosphere was electric.
Centre stage,on a raised podium, Chloe Armstrong struggled to hold her pose,thankful this evening’s performance was nearly over. She flickedher eyes to the other dancers positioned below. The heat radiating from the stage lights overhead wasnoticeably intense. Expensive fragrancesmingled with the aroma of candle wax and stage make-up, creating aheady perfume in the air. Light-headed, with a dry mouth, shetwisted and twirled to the music of the live band below. Hercostume was la crème de la crèmeof the show. The jewel-encrusted headdress aloneweighed over four kilos. The beaded collar, bra and G-stringshowcased her toned body and long legs to perfection, making herbeautiful and powerful in this elaborate costume, very much thePrincipal Dancer.
Below, theenthralled audience gazed up at her, their expectant facesilluminated by tea lights on the tables. But wait. The smile diedon her lips. Could that be Paul, her ex-partner, staring up at herwith malevolent eyes? She strained to see through the gloom.Distracted she turned too quickly, and her headdress slipped. Sheraised her hands to hold it in place, precariously venturing tooclose to the edge of the podium. Struggling to correct her positionin dangerously high heels, she lost her balance. The dancer on thepodium to her left reached out in an attempt to grab her, but itwas too late. She fell to the stage below, striking the podium, andpain seared through her leg.
The loud gaspof horror from the audience immobilised the other dancers.Stagehands rushed to help her, all speaking at once. Dizzy, hervision blurred, she fought for words. Red hot agony shot down oneleg and she frantically pushed away the hands trying to grasp her.The distraught expressions of the dancers would stay in her mindforever. Without a shadow of doubt, she had broken herleg.
The curtaincame down, ending the performance and her dancingcareer.
CHAPTERONE
Chloe stood on thebalcony of her Paris apartment in La Rue Saint-Dominique, elbowspropped up on the wrought-iron railing, sipping from a cup ofcoffee cradled in both hands. The pale pink sunset cast a magicalspell over the Paris rooftops. Mouth-watering aromas fromrestaurants below wafted up on the evening breeze, making her awareshe had not eaten since breakfast and her retreat inside quickerthan intended. She had at least an hour to wait before her friendSimone arrived to accompany her to dinner. Positioning herself onone end of the overstuffed cream jacquard sofa, she sat back andallowed her gaze to roam the tiny apartment she had grown to love.She smiled, recalling the purchase of many of the unique ornamentsand paintings that had transformed this space into her home for thelast few years.
Cool night airdrifted in from the balcony, chilling the room a little. Sheshivered, pulling the powder-blue cashmere wrap a little tighteraround her shoulders. Rising to close the French doors, she leanther forehead against the cool glass and sighed. She could hardlybelieve nine months had gone by since her accident, yet she hadremained here, hoping for some sort
