Originally posted on Just Romantic Suspense.

I really enjoy writing in the first-person.  However, as a reader of first-person, it can sometimes be frustrating to not know what other characters are thinking or feeling.  In TURN TO ME, the second book in my Kathleen Turner Series, I write a prologue and epilogue that are each in the third person – one from each of the heroes’ perspectives – as a bit of a “present” to my readers.  Those chapters seem to have gone over very well, so I got the idea that it might be fun to fill in a “missing” scene from third-person point-of-view.  I put a poll up on my website with four choices of scenes readers would like to read, and this scene was the #1 vote-getter.  I hope you enjoy it.


By Request – Most Wanted “Deleted” Scene

In TURN TO ME (book two in the “Kathleen Turner Series”), Kathleen calls Blane when she throws Kade out, but Blane doesn’t pick up and she has to leave a voice mail.

Blane usually answers his cell, but wasn’t able to in this instance.

This is why.


Blane cast one more penetrating glance behind him, assuring himself that he wasn’t being followed before silently sliding into his Jaguar.  He’d parked several blocks away from The Drop and had stayed to the shadows when he’d left after having reassured himself that Kathleen was all right.

That had been the best part of the evening.

The pseudo-date with Apryl had left a sour taste in his mouth – regardless of the fact that he and Kat had been putting on a show for whomever was stalking her.  Blane shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he recalled the anger on Kathleen’s face as she’d dumped what had seemed like a bucket of ice cold water in his lap.

He hadn’t been able to resist going back to see her after the scene they’d made.  Apryl Gallagher – a woman he’d met a few times at the Indianapolis Chamber of Commerce monthly meetings – had been none too pleased.  She’d had been unaware of Blane’s ulterior motive in asking her out tonight.  Thus she had filled his ear with a vitriolic diatribe as he’d driven her home telling him he was a “scum-sucking bastard” for using her to cheat on his now ex-girlfriend, what an utter waste of time he was, and how men like him didn’t deserve women like herself or Kathleen.

Blane wasn’t sure he disagreed on that last part.

When he’d finally pulled up to her house and made to get out of the car to walk her to her door, she’d told him in no uncertain terms exactly what he could go do with himself which was, fortunately for Blane, anatomically impossible.

Regardless of how it had made him look to Apryl, Blane felt better knowing he was doing something to try and resolve the situation with Kathleen.  It wasn’t often he felt helpless, and other than protecting Kathleen, he was frustrated with his inability to pinpoint where the threat was coming from.  If he could devalue her as a target, that would help, but his gut burned with the need to find who was terrorizing her – and make them pay.

Blane drove home through the dark, empty streets of Indianapolis, deep in thought.  With Kade now here to watch over Kathleen, his worry eased.  No matter how much Kade disliked Kathleen and disapproved of Blane’s relationship with her, Blane trusted him absolutely.  She’d stay safe and Blane was now free to pursue the perpetrator.

He swung into his driveway, the luxury sports car making the turn with ease, its tires hugging the pavement before coming to a gentle halt.  The warm purr of the engine faded to silence as Blane turned the car off and pocketed the keys.

The house was quiet and dark, Gerard and Mona having long since left for the evening.  A nebulous discontent made Blane frown slightly as he walked through the silent home to the library.  It would be nice to not come home to an empty house.

The library was dimly lit by the glow of the small lamp on the desk.  Blane emptied his pockets on a nearby table, passing by matching leather chairs on his way to the sideboard to pour himself a drink.  A brief picture of how Kat liked to curl up there and read while he worked flickered through his mind.  He briefly considered calling her, just to hear her voice and say good night, then discarded the idea.  No telling if someone would be listening in.

An awareness, long-honed by too many years spent ensuring his continued existence and those of the SEALs and Marines around him, had Blane reaching automatically for the gun at his hip.  In the next second, the gun was in his hand and he’d pivoted, taking aim at the shadowed figure that had stepped into the room.

Relief was followed quickly by anger as Blane realized the identity of the intruder.  Quickly controlling the instinctive fury at the brazenness of his uninvited guest, he holstered his gun and spoke.

“What are you doing here, Kandi?”

Kandi stepped into the circle of light cast by the lamp and Blane could see she was wearing one of his shirts.  And nothing else.  He inwardly sighed.  This was not something he wanted to deal with tonight.

“I couldn’t stay away,” she said quietly, easing closer to him.  “I need you.  Want you.  I miss you, Blane.”

“I just saw you yesterday,” Blane replied, unmoved.

“That’s not what I mean,” she said.  She sidled closer until she stood mere inches from him.  Blane stood his ground, despite the distaste that made him want to step away from her.  “I miss us.  No one knows me like you do.”  Her voice lowered to a husky whisper.  “No one touches me like you can.”

Her palm lifted to rest on his chest, but Blane grabbed her wrist, preventing the action.  That didn’t seem to deter her though, as she merely moved closer until her body was touching his, her breasts pressing against his chest.  She insinuated a long, bare leg between his.  Blane had to grasp her other wrist as well as she tried to slide her arm around his neck.

“Kandi, stop,” he ordered, reminding himself to be kind despite his irritation.  He didn’t want to be cruel, but he had to get through to her.  “You and I are over.  It’s not going to happen.”

She laughed, throaty and seductive.  “Don’t be ridiculous.  You and I are best when we’re in bed.  You know that.”

The press of her body against his, the smell of her hair, the sound of her voice – all of it at one time had been enough to make him want her.  Now, it just left him cold.

“I don’t want you.”  Blane’s tone was flat and implacable.

She looked at him, as though searching out the truthfulness of his words, then tears began to swim in her eyes.  “How can you say that?  It’s always been you.  No one even comes close to being what you are to me.”

Blane checked his rising temper.  Tears.  Kandi could turn them on like flipping a switch.  It used to work on him.  Not anymore.  “I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Kandi.  You know I care about you.  But I’m not the man for you.”  He thought but didn’t say that she wasn’t the woman for him either.  Perhaps at some point she had been, but not now.

Kandi ignored him, lifting her face to press her lips to the base of his throat, the skin left bare by the open collar of his shirt.  Her perfume drifted over him, heavy and sweet.  Blane did step back now, bringing her arms between them to forcibly keep her from touching him.

“You need to leave,” he said firmly, his patience at an end.

“It’s because of her, isn’t it?”  Kandi’s voice had lost the soft, pleading tone, her words now colored with jealousy.

“It has nothing to do with her,” Blane lied.  “You and I just aren’t meant to be.”

“Bullshit!” Kandi spat, wrenching her arms out of his grip.  “That two-bit, white trash slut has you by the balls!”

Whatever sympathy Blane might have felt for Kandi evaporated in an instant.  “You know where the door is, Kandi,” he said coldly.  “I suggest you use it.”  Turning his back to her, Blane went back to the sideboard, pouring himself a healthy dose of scotch.

“She’s not good enough for you, Blane,” Kandi continued, her tone vicious yet tinged with desperation.  “She’s an orphan and has no connections to help you.  A high school diploma is the extent of her education and she knows next to nothing about politics!”

Blane remained silent, emptying his glass in one swallow as the liquid burned a path down his throat.  The iron control he usually had on his temper was slipping.  His hand gripped the heavy crystal tumbler like a vice.

“Christ, she can hardly pay the rent on that shithole she lives in!  She’s a nothing and a nobody, Blane!  Fuck her all you want, but don’t try to pretend she’s anything more than a chance for you to go slumming!”

Blane’s control snapped.  Turning, he hurled the empty glass.  It sailed past Kandi and hit the wall behind her with a loud crash, shattering into a thousand pieces.

Kandi abruptly stopped speaking, her eyes wide in surprise and fear.

Finally, Blane spoke.  “Get.  Out.”  He enunciated each word carefully, holding her gaze with his so she would know that he meant it.  He was through hearing her disparage Kathleen, someone who’d shown him that a woman could want him for more than his power and money.  Kandi had never wanted him, not really.  She only wanted what he represented –  power, wealth, influence.

Kandi hadn’t moved, her mouth open slightly as though she was going to say something.  Blane hoped she thought real long and hard before doing that.

A ring shattered the silence.  Blane glanced over at his cell phone where it sat on the table, Kathleen’s name and photo appearing on the brightly lit screen.

“Well, well.  Looks like you’re little whore is calling you,” Kandi sneered.  “Think she’d like it if I answered instead?”  Kandi made a grab for the phone, picking it up before Blane could reach her.

At her side in two strides, Blane snatched it from her hand, hitting the button that would send the call to voice mail before shoving the phone into his pocket.

Kandi swung at him, her palm flying toward his face.  Blane easily blocked the blow, catching her wrist in his grip.

“Get out before I throw you out,” he threatened.

“Fine,” she hissed, her eyes growing bright with unshed tears.  “But you’re wrong, Blane.  We’re meant to be together, and I’m not going to stop fighting for you.  Or stop trying to get you to not make the biggest mistake of your life, not to mention your career.”  Turning on her heel, she left the room.

Blane didn’t relax until he heard the front door open and close.  Pulling his cell out, he listened to Kathleen’s voice mail.

“Hey, it’s me.  Listen, I know you wanted Kade to stick around, but that’s just not going to work out, okay?  Don’t worry though, I’m fine.  I’m sure our little scene tonight threw off track whoever’s watching.  Hope you’re okay.  I’m going to bed.  See you at the firm tomorrow.”

Blane shoved a hand through his hair, frustration making his body tense.  God damn it, what the fuck had Kade done now that Kathleen wouldn’t let him protect her?  He could tell by her voice that she was upset.  The last thing he needed was drama from his brother, of all people.  All he had to do was protect Kathleen, not be best friends with her.  Was that so fucking hard to do?  He frowned in irritation as he dialed Kade’s number.