PREFACECharity was finally starting to feel secure in the love she and Jag shared -- until his brother dropped a bombshell that shook the foundation of what they shared. She started to question all over again why Jag would be interested in her, when his first wife was so different? Shaylene was white and skinny? She was curvy and black? And he'd obviously loved this woman; had grieved her for years. So why had he clung to her so quickly? Was he tired of being alone?
She'd seen the devastation in his eyes as he recounted what his brother had revealed, in essence bringing his dead wife, Shaylene, back to life to impact their relationship as if she'd been a living, breathing entity walking the earth. Had Jag every really gotten over her? Would he ever? Would Charity always be second in his heart to his first wife?
Charity realized that until she knew the answer to these questions, she'd never be able to fully commit to him. Then she buried her face in her hands at the irony of it all. He'd just told her that he didn't even know if he ever wanted to get married again ... and here she was trying to decide if she could ever commit to him.
How much had changed in just 24 hours.
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Jag thought he'd cut his family out of his life for good when he married Shaylene all those years ago. And now, he had a second chance at love. He'd found the kind of happiness with Charity that no man deserves twice in a lifetime. ... And twice in a lifetime his family threatened to destroy it.
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"Trust me Jag, you never quite know the woman you're sleeping with."
"You vindictive bastard! After years of not laying eyes on you, what makes you think you have a prayer in hell of me believing anything that comes out of your lying, scheming mouth?"
"Because I can prove it," his brother said, "... every word of it."
Jag felt his blood streaming through his veins like a comet streaking through the sky. Even though he hadn't seen his older brother in years, he knew him well enough to know when he was lying, and something told him he wasn't lying about this. But it couldn't be true. It just couldn't. If it was ... sweet creator of the heavens, help him if it was!
Jace saw the look in his brother's deep-set, grey-green eyes. Even though he was older by almost six years, Jag had always been the more studious, more serious, more focused one. It was why their father had pegged him to be the controlling heir to the Hollander fortune - that is, before Jag had married Shaylene.
Jace saw the war raging in his brother. Jag didn't want to believe what he was saying, but some part of him knew that he had to; that he had too much riding on it not to.
"You'd better be able to prove every word, or you're a dead man," Jag threatened.
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Charity sprinted to the front door, blood on her hands and the lavender cotton night top she wore.
She tried to open the door, her bloody hands slipping on the knob. She quickly ran them down the side of her matching lavender night shorts to dry them so she could grip the door better. Finally, it opened.
She pointed at Jag. "His head," was all she said before two firemen rushed passed her. Within seconds, they were working on Jag. In the meantime, police officers pelted her with questions. What happened? How long ago? Jag's name? Age? How much did he have to drink? Over how many hours? The rapid-fire questions kept coming.
She knew Jag had gone to see is father earlier and all she could think was, "What the hell had gone on?"
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Will Jag's powerful family destroy his and Charity's newfound happiness before it has a chance to fully bloom?
The secret his brother reveals guts everything Jag has believed in for the last 17 years, and puts his relationship with Charity in a line of fire neither one of them is sure it can survive.
