Title: TWO
PRINCES: The Biker and The Billionaire
Author: Victoria
Danann
Genre:
Contemporary Romance
TWO PRINCES: The
Biker and The Billionaire
Sons of Sanctuary
MC, Book 1
Two brothers, one
a player, one a playboy, are on a collision course with destiny and a woman who
thought she won a prize when she was allowed a look inside the Sons of
Sanctuary MC.
Brigid Roan is a
graduate student at the University of Texas. She had no trouble getting her
thesis approved, but finding a Hill Country motorcycle club willing to give her
access to their lifestyle was looking impossible. Then she got a lead. A friend
of a friend had a cousin with family ties to The Sons of Sanctuary.
What Brigid
wanted was information to prove a proposition. The last thing she had in mind
was falling for one of the members of the club. Especially since she was a
feminist academic out to prove that motorcycle clubs are organized according to
the same structure as primitive tribal society.
Brash Fornight
was standing in line at the H.E.B. Market when his world tipped on its axis.
While waiting his turn to check out, his gaze had wandered to the magazine
display and settled on the new issue of “NOW”. The image on the cover, although
GQ’d up in an insanely urbane way, was… him.
After reading the
article, Brash threw some stuff in a duffle and left his only home, a room at
The Sons of Sanctuary clubhouse, with a vague explanation about needing a
couple of days away. He left his truck at the Austin airport and caught a plane
for New York, on a mission to find a mysterious guy walking around with his
face.
Buy the Book
Book Excerpt:
“Sir?” Brash
Fornight gradually became aware that someone behind him in the grocery checkout
line was trying to get his attention. “Sir?” He refocused and glanced behind
him. The woman leaning on a cart overflowing with chip bags and cookie boxes
nodded toward the cashier indicating that it was his turn to move forward.
Brash looked her in the eye and had to give her props. Most people wouldn’t
have the balls to try to herd a guy wearing Sons of Sanctuary MC leather.
The club employed
a woman who cooked and did grocery shopping several times a week as part of her
job description, but Brash didn’t like to explain his relentless craving for
peanuts and he liked being teased about it even less. He didn’t know whether it
was the Vitamin B or the fat or just because he liked the taste, but he
couldn’t imagine going a day without them.
That’s how he
came to be standing statue still In the grocery checkout line, being prompted
by some woman with more nerve than sense. While he was waiting, his eyes
drifted over the magazine display and settled on the cover of “NOW”, on the
Most Eligible Bachelor edition no less. The debonair figure staring back was
wearing Brash’s own face and body. He looked different with short hair and a
four thousand dollar suit with the shirt fashionably open at the neckline, but
the similarity was inescapable.
On impulse he
grabbed the magazine and tossed it onto the conveyor belt with his week’s stash
of peanuts.
He stuffed the
bags into the saddlebags of his bike and roared toward home, nervously tapping
his fingers on handlebars at red lights, riding on shoulders to keep from
slowing down. He was anxious to get to the privacy of his own room and read
about Branach St. Germaine.
Two beers, one
jar of peanuts, and one “NOW” article later, Brash was sitting on the edge of
his bed looking at the wall, seeing nothing but his own heavy thoughts. He
pulled out his phone, looked up a website, and waited on hold for ten minutes
to hear the time of the next flight from Austin to New York.
There was a
flight to Newark in a little over three hours. He looked at his watch and
calculated the time it would take to drive from Dripping Springs at that time
of day. As he booked the flight, he stood up, walked to the small closet,
grabbed a duffel bag, and began shoving stuff into it. Ten minutes later, he
closed his door and locked it, threw the duffel over his shoulder, and headed
straight for the office downstairs. He dropped the duffel on the hallway floor
beside the closed door and knocked.
“Yeah?” Brash
looked inside, glad that his dad was by himself, and stepped in. “What’s up?”
“I’m takin’
personal time, Pop. Gonna be gone for a couple of days.”
“What the hell is
‘personal time’?”
The gruffness
made Brash smile. “It means I’m not gonna be here if you call and I’m not
tellin’ you why.”
The Sons of
Sanctuary President looked up at Brash, over the top of his readers, and
narrowed his eyes. “You got a secret?”
“Everybody’s got secrets.”
Brandon Fornight
studied his son for a minute. “True enough. Is it the kind of secret that could
affect this club?”
Brash shook his
head. “Don’t see how.”
“Well, then. See
you… When did you say you’d be back?”
“I didn’t.”
“Bein’
purposefully vague, are you?”
Brash grinned.
“That’s why they call it personal time. But I expect to be back Friday.”
“You gonna have
your phone with you?” When Brash nodded, Bran looked back down at his ledger in
a deliberately dismissive gesture. “Well, get outta here then.”
Brash parked his
bike in the airplane hangar. The structure had already been on the property
when the club had bought it and turned it into a compound twenty years earlier.
They used part of it for vehicle maintenance and repair and part for parking.
Some of the guys
who were working looked over and shot curious glances his way when Brash threw
his duffel into his pickup and started it up, but it wasn’t their way to ask
questions. The Sons figured that if somebody wanted you to know something,
they’d tell you.
Brash took a cab
to a midtown hotel, wondering all the way why human beings would choose to live
in such a place. As he slid his credit card across the hotel counter to the
agent on duty, he glanced at the name, Brandon Fornight. It seemed unlikely
that it was a coincidence that that the mysterious look-alike’s first name
began with the same four letters. He ordered room service and pulled out his
laptop.
Getting intel on
the guy didn’t take advanced ops. Within an hour Brash knew where Brannach St.
Germaine worked, what kind of car he drove, what kind of women he dated, who
his tailor was, and where he liked to dine. There was no shortage of photos
online, but the one that grabbed his attention wasn’t one of the many with
starlets or debutantes on his arm. It was the one taken with his arm around his
mother as they were arriving together for some red carpet fundraiser. Brash had
an almost irresistible compulsion to reach up and touch her face on the screen
in front of him.
The knock on the
door signaled that room service had arrived. It cost a fortune, but looked and
tasted like shit. So he closed the computer and went out for a walk to clear
his head and find something edible.
~~
Also look for A
Season in Gemini, Sons of Sanctuary MC series, Intro – in the Summer
Fire anthology, available everywhere.
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