The Bad Boy's Gift: The Bad Boys of Regret Hollow, #1

By Sara Daniel

His gift is the only thing left from the love they shared…and she plans to sell it.

Former bad boy, now famous artist, Zane DeMonde laughs off an engraved invitation to return to Regret Hollow, the same town that booted him out fifteen years ago. When he discovers the woman who once broke his heart is putting his professional reputation at risk by selling his old paintings, he’s no longer laughing. He’ll do anything to stop her, even return to town … even put his heart in jeopardy again.

High school art teacher Julianne Truman's last chance to save her beloved art department from budget cuts is to sell the old artwork Zane gifted her. Her heart breaks to remove the final traces of him from her life, but she needs to finally move on from the love she never got over.

Julianne’s life belongs to her students, and Zane’s only goal is to protect his art. But the moment they wrap their arms around each other, their old attraction flares to life hot enough to incinerate them and their best intentions.

WARNING: Contains naughty words Grandma wouldn’t approve of, smoking hot love scenes Grandma can’t get enough of, all the quirks of small-town life, and a swoon-worthy, no-cliffhangers-no-regrets romance.

Books in The Bad Boys of Regret Hollow series:

1.  The Bad Boy’s Gift

2.  The Bad Boy’s Guilt

3.  The Bad Boy’s Guarantee

4.  The Bad Boy’s Goodness

5.  The Bad Boy's Commitment

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sara Daniel
• Release date: Mar 29, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524238728

Book preview

The Bad Boy’s Gift

Copyright © 2016 by Sara Daniel

Cover art by Kim Killion

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and federal imprisonment.

This book is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

The Bad Boys of Regret Hollow series

About the Author

Chapter 1

The bad boy of Regret Hollow had received an engraved invitation to return to town. Zane DeMonde smirked and flicked the card in the trash.

Although he appreciated the ego boost, no amount of groveling would convince him to return to the place that had scorned and vilified him, especially when the girl he’d loved had chosen it over him.

Did you actually read the invitation? Ken Hawkins demanded, striding toward the discarded paper.

I don’t need to, he assured his business manager. Those people don’t warrant a reply. After sending me out with a boot to the ass, no matter how much they kiss my ass now, they won’t convince me to give them the time of day.

That’s an interesting ass fixation you have. Ken grinned. I’ll have to hint at it when you release your new painting and see if the critics can divine where it comes into play.

Zane snorted, relieved for the distraction from the place he could never exorcise from his mind. Speaking of which, have you planned a debut for the new pieces yet?

I’m waiting for the buzz about this auction of your early work to reach its peak. Then I’m going to book a top venue and capitalize on the momentum.

What auction? What early work?

If you bothered to read your mail, maybe you’d know. Ken retrieved the invitation from the trash and slapped it on the desktop. Four original pieces from a private collection that have never been on public display are going on sale. The woman in charge won’t give any details about them until the day of the sale.

Sounds like fraud to me. No one in town would want anything of mine, even if they could afford it.

If you really think it could be fraud, we better be damn sure before we start pointing fingers. The woman running the event is Julianne Truman. Ring any bells?

Zane froze. Her name rang all his bells. Julianne sent me the invitation? He picked it up and ran his fingertip over the gold engraving. Maybe she hadn’t completely forgotten about him the way he’d assumed.

I’ve talked to a couple of dealers who’d contacted her for more information. She hinted that these pieces were a personal gift from you to her. Are we still talking fraud, or did you give away originals of your art before you had a manager to save you from your own stupidity.

She wouldn’t sell the pieces I gave her. Except, why the hell not? Even when she’d vowed her love for him, she didn’t believe in it enough to follow him away from their childhood homes. Fifteen years later, any emotional attachment to his gifts would long since have died. Is she married?

Ken blinked. What does that have to do with the art she’s selling? More importantly, why do you care?

He didn’t. Of course not. Life had moved on for both of them. He rubbed his finger over the RSVP line with her name. If she was married, she’d kept her maiden name. He tossed the invitation to Ken. Call her and tell her I’ll buy the paintings from her at twenty percent above whatever she expects them to earn at the sale. In exchange, she cannot show them publically, and she needs to cancel the auction.

# # #

Cancel the auction. As if.

After telling Mr. Hawkins ever so politely to suck it, just as she had the past three time times he’d called throughout the week, Julianne Truman tossed her cell phone in her purse and mumbled a string of less than polite epithets. Zane didn’t even have the courtesy to make the outrageous demand himself. Apparently, he was a big shot too important to acknowledge they’d once had the most personal of relationships.

This from the guy she’d believed was the love of her life. People had always warned her she had fallen for a bad boy who’d end up hurting her. She just hadn’t believed them...until now.

Uh oh, I know that look and can read your lips. Who pissed you off? Her best friend Bethany tugged her down the empty school hallway, away from the teens decorating the cafeteria.

Zane’s manager called again if you can believe it.

But Zane still hasn’t called?

She hated to consider she was upset about him sending his staff to communicate with her so he didn’t have to, when her frustration should have centered on his efforts to derail her students’ hard work. I’m just stressed with all the last minute stuff. I’ll be fine tomorrow night, after it’s over.

Well, she’d be fine if they earned enough money to save her job. She stared across the room where a student free-hand calligraphed be generous next to the sign with bidding instructions. She couldn’t imagine not working with these kids next year and, worse, not having an art program in the school to encourage their creative gifts.

Bethany gripped her arm, redirecting Julianne’s focus. The community is so involved I know it’ll be a success, and I love how you’ve gotten the kids to believe in their natural artistic aptitude.

A lot of them have real talent. It’ll kill me not to give them a chance to nurture and explore it. Despite the public’s involvement and support, budget cuts had hit the school district hard. Zane, of all people, should understand what a safe haven the art department represented for creative students who didn’t excel in academics or sports.

You have a great plan in place to make sure your students aren’t shortchanged, and everyone’s working to ensure its success. Tomorrow night is going to be great, Bethany assured her.

The auction would be great. She’d give her students the validation and recognition they so desperately needed. She’d keep the arts alive in her cash-strapped school district. In return, she’d give up the four possessions that meant more to her than anything else in the world.

She swiped her fist across her eyes. Damn it, they should mean nothing to her. She should be long over the man who’d given them to her. Hell, she hadn’t even