I love these characters. Hayley is a go-getting independent woman who is determined to do what ever it takes to succeed at her career - even resist temptation. But that's before she realises that temptation comes in the form of Tom, a successful guy who is captured perfectly on the cover.
Tom is a rock-climbing, freefalling executive who knows exactly what he wants. Resisting that smouldering gaze and toned body is hard enough, but when he's a guy who can make you laugh and cry as well...
So here's an excerpt to tempt you, and don't forget it's free on Amazon (UK) and Amazon (US) until Sunday :-)
He was in a
suit, which, if anything, was sexier than the jeans he’d worn to the
exhibition. It made him look smooth, sleek, and dangerous, which wasn’t what
Hayley wanted at all. She wanted boring and ordinary. Grey.
‘I’m glad you changed your mind.’ He grinned in a boyish way that made
her want to wrap her arms round him, and bury her head in his chest and …
Bugger.
‘I haven’t changed my mind.’ She ran her tongue over suddenly dry lips
and tried to avoid his eyes, which meant staring at his broad chest, and down
to his hard, lean thighs, and big, warm hands. Boy, they’d been warm; she could
still feel the heat he’d generated in her as he’d stroked his way over every
inch. Stop it; she had to stop it. ‘I, we, I need to talk to you about the
paintings.’ She paused as Maisie, one of the assistants at the gallery,
carefully unwrapped a plate of sandwiches. Waited the lifetime it took to
slowly peel the clingfilm off, to painstakingly straighten the individual
triangles. They were sandwiches, for God’s sake. It didn’t matter. ‘If you
still want me to do them, that is.’
‘Talk away, then.’ He sat down, smiled a brief thank you at Maisie and
ignored the makeshift lunch. He was making her nervous the way he was just
sitting, staring at her in that curious searching way he had. Bloody nervous.
And hot. All over.
‘I wish you’d stop looking at me.’ He grinned. ‘You’re putting me off.’
‘I know.’ The grin broadened, reaching his eyes until they crinkled
slightly at the corners. ‘You’re gorgeous when you get agitated, you know.’
‘Bugger.’ Bugger, bugger, bugger. So much for being calm and
professional. Concentrate. Talk business. This was business, and all she had to
do was keep it that way. Talk. And stop looking at him, do not look at him.
She picked up one of the sandwiches and studied it, peeled a corner up.
‘Cress? Do people still put cress on sandwiches? Look I’m sorry, but it’s just
I can’t …’ The words froze as he leant forward, pulled the sandwich from
her fingers, and dropped it back onto the platter.
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