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Come back to 18th century Carnival, where lovers meet discreetly, and masks make everyone equal.
Venice in the Moonlight by Elizabeth McKenna – Just 99 cents!

Like A Little Romance?
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And for the next week all of these great reading choices are sponsored by our Brand New Romance of the Week, Elizabeth McKenna’s Venice in the Moonlight, so please check it out!

Venice in the Moonlight

by Elizabeth McKenna

4.4 stars – 22 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

Take a vacation from the London ton and visit Venice in the Moonlight!

A Story of Vengeance, Forgiveness, and Love

After her husband’s untimely demise, Marietta Gatti is banished from the family’s villa by her spiteful mother-in-law. She returns to her hometown of Venice and her only kin–a father she hasn’t spoken to since her forced marriage. Her hope of making amends is crushed when she learns she is too late, for he recently has died under suspicious circumstances. Grief-stricken, Marietta retraces her father’s last night only to discover someone may have wanted him dead–and she may be next. When the prime suspect turns out to be the father of the man she is falling in love with, Marietta risks her future happiness and her life to avenge the death of a man she once hated.

Elizabeth McKenna’s latest novel takes you back to eighteenth century Carnival, where lovers meet discreetly, and masks make everyone equal.

Reviews

“I really have to recommend this novel. It’s beautiful and brilliant and I cannot find any flaws within the depths of the words. This is my first time ever reading a novel written by McKenna, but I am quickly looking forward to future releases. Venice in the Moonlight is a remarkable story of enduring loss, suffering and in the end love, and I will forever carry it with me.” –For the Passion of Romance book review blog

“This was an engaging story of a young widow who finds an unlikely love interest when she returns to her home town of Venice. This story is filled with history, mystery, suspense and of course, romance. Highly enjoyable! ” – Claudia Harbaugh, author of Her Grace in Disgrace

Visit Elizabeth McKenna’s Amazon Author Page

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Free Romance Excerpt From New York Times And USA Today Bestseller – Check Out The Billionaire’s Obsession: The Complete Collection Boxed Set by J.S. Scott – Over 1,000 Rave Reviews!

Last week we announced that The Billionaire’s Obsession: The Complete Collection Boxed Set by J.S. Scott is our Romance of the Week and the sponsor of thousands of great bargains in the Romance category: over 200 free titles, over 600 quality 99-centers, and thousands more that you can read for free through the Kindle Lending Library if you have Amazon Prime!

Now we’re back to offer our weekly free Romance excerpt, and if you aren’t among those who have downloaded The Billionaire’s Obsession: The Complete Collection Boxed Set, you’re in for a real treat:

Or check out the Audible.com version of The Billionaire’s Obsession: The Complete Collection Boxed Set (Mine For Tonight, Mine For Now, Mine Forever, Mine Completely)
in its Audible Audio Edition, Unabridged!
Here’s the set-up:

*****A NY TIMES AND USA TODAY BESTSELLER****

GENRE: Contemporary Erotic RomanceOnce a serial trilogy, The Billionaire’s Obsession is now complete with a bonus story in this complete collection about Simon and Kara.This complete collection of The Billionaire’s Obsession includes:

Mine For Tonight
Mine For Now
Mine Forever
Mine Completely

Heart Of The Billionaire ~ Sam and Maddie’s story is now available on Amazon.

Down on her luck, nursing student and full-time waitress Kara Foster gets a massive blow to her already desperate financial situation that will surely find her living on the streets. Needing nothing less than a miracle to save her, Kara gets rescue from an unknown, unlikely and overwhelming source. Billionaire Simon Hudson makes her an offer that is impossible to refuse, but terrifying to accept from a man that she’s never met. Will the handsome, alpha billionaire really be a solution to her problems, or will he end up being a major complication and a danger to her emotional sanity?

Reclusive billionaire Simon Hudson would rather be behind a computer creating computer games than rubbing elbows with the elite and he knows exactly what he wants…until he meets Kara Foster. Something about Kara touches Simon in ways he’s never experienced and definitely doesn’t like. For over a year, Simon watches over Kara, but stubbornly refuses to admit his desire to possess her, not even to himself. But when she ends up in a situation that could very well be her destruction, Simon steps up to help her, not realizing that in saving Kara, he might very well be salvaging his own soul.

(This is a erotic romance. It contains graphic language, very steamy love scenes and lots of emotion.)

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  And here, for your reading pleasure, is our free romance excerpt:

Chapter 1

Simon Hudson stood silently in the shadows of the opulent lobby, his hands in the pockets of his jeans and one shoulder propped against the frame of a large window that faced the street. His whole body was tense, his dark brown eyes scanning the sidewalk with the intense and total focus of a madman.

Where in the hell is she? It’s ten forty-five.

He knew Kara was working tonight. She had called in sick for the last two evenings, but was back to work at Helen’s Place, waiting tables on the swing shift. He had checked. His mother owned the bistro where Kara worked and was generally pretty forthcoming with information when Simon wanted it, but he was careful. If he wasn’t, his only parent would be hounding him to find out why he wanted information on Kara. His wonderful but inquisitive mom would be like a bloodhound after a scent if she thought that Simon’s interest was anything but casual. He would be nagged to death, his mother wanting to know exactly what his intentions were with Kara.

Simon frowned. Like he had any intentions? He had fantasies and all of them involved Kara spread out on his bed, screaming his name as he made her come, over and over.

Simon took a deep breath and slowly blew it back out, trying to get his body to relax and telling himself that he must be insane to take exactly the same position, night after night, for some woman who he had never officially met. But here he was…again, his back to the curious doorman, leering out the window like an unbalanced stalker, waiting to get a glimpse of Kara Foster. Something about the woman brought out strange, territorial, and protective instincts that kept him here, keeping watch, waiting for her to walk by his condo building on her way home from work.

And then, when he spotted her, he’d do the same thing he always did. He’d follow her at a distance, trying not to alarm her, and wait until she had let herself into her apartment safely before he turned around and walked back home.

He wouldn’t talk to her, or even get close to her. He never did. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but Kara was going to nursing school and working full-time at his mother’s restaurant. According to his mom, Kara adamantly refused to date because she didn’t have the time or energy to put into a relationship. She was probably right about that. The insane woman didn’t sleep enough, eat enough. She had no one who even worried about her except for his mother…and Simon. Hell, in the last year, Simon had probably cared more about Kara’s well-being than a dozen family members would have, and he couldn’t even call her a friend. Problem was…he wasn’t a family member, and his feelings were far from brotherly.

God, she was sweet!

Simon had to bite back a groan of frustration as he thought about the first time he had seen Kara, her blue eyes flashing with humor, black tendrils of silky hair escaping from her ever-present ponytail and her lithe body moving gracefully from table to table at his mom’s restaurant. At the age of twenty-eight, she still retained a look of innocence and vulnerability that had Simon caught in her unintentional web. He’d been a prisoner there ever since.

His mother spoke about Kara as if she were her daughter, and Simon knew that Kara and his mother had a special bond: one not formed by blood, but by a special friendship. Shit…if Kara were younger, Simon was pretty sure his mother would adopt her. Lips twitching slightly, Simon hoped his mother never expected him to be like a brother to Kara. It wasn’t happening. His cock stood at attention, rock-hard and ready, every time he saw her. What in the hell was it about this particular woman that made him so edgy and restless?

Simon had fucked women who were more attractive or more sophisticated, and not a single one of them had ever touched any of his emotions. He was a loner, preferring to spend his time with his computer rather than attending social functions, but there were times when he needed a woman’s company for physical relief. Occasionally taking himself in hand just wasn’t getting it done. Simon had certain female acquaintances for those occasions, women who gave him the control he needed and had to have in the bedroom, without a lot of demands or questions. Damn it! That had been enough for him…until he had seen Kara.

Grimacing, his eyes never leaving the street, Simon shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and adjusted his position, giving his shoulder a break by resting his hip against the wall. God, he was getting pathetic. How long would he moon over a woman who had never even acknowledged him? Until she finished nursing school and moved away? Until she got married?

He nearly growled at the thought of another man putting his hands on Kara’s delectable body. Simon fought a purely feral instinct that rose up at the thought of another man touching his woman.

She’s not your woman, asshole. Get a grip.

For once in his life, Simon wished he were more like his older brother Sam, the other half of the Hudson Corporation. Sam would have no problem putting the moves on Kara. Charm, conquer, and discard had always been his brother’s style and Sam wouldn’t have given a thought to the possibility of rejection. Probably because Sam never failed! His only sibling went through the female population like a person with a nasty cold went through tissues. Sam would have broken down Kara’s defenses, charmed her out of her panties and then discarded her for his next conquest.

Oh, hell no. Simon loved his brother, but he’d be damned if he’d ever let Sam seduce Kara. He didn’t even want the two of them in the same room together.

Because she’s mine.

Simon shook his head, surprised at his own behavior. Yeah…he liked control, actually needed control, but he had never wanted one woman in particular. Now, he could think of little else but the pretty waitress who had snagged his attention a year ago.

You’re afraid of her.

Simon scowled at the thought. Like hell he was! He wasn’t afraid of anything, and he definitely didn’t fear Kara Foster. She just…was not a likely lover. Why bother?

He fucked.

He didn’t date.

And he liked it that way.

His brother Sam was the face of the company, the marketer. Simon was a computer geek, happy to stay in the background. What did he know about seducing a woman? He’d never needed to coerce a woman to his bed. The females he fucked were only with him for personal gain. He was known as a generous lover. He wasn’t fool enough to believe they had any personal feelings for him. That, he understood. That, he could handle.

Maybe I need to find a way to fuck her and get over this crazy obsession.

Would it be enough? Could he actually get free from his fixation with this woman if he could find a way to have her?

Christ! He had to do something. His irrational preoccupation with Kara had grown worse and worse over the last year, causing him to want no other woman except her. He hadn’t gotten off with anyone except himself in well over a year, and he really needed to scratch that itch. Yet…he couldn’t. If he tried to take action, to make a move to call another woman, he would see Kara’s pretty girl-next-door face and hang up the phone.

I’m just that fucking obsessed with her.

Simon glanced at an approaching figure, his mind almost immediately starting to dismiss the dark-haired woman who was dressed in a short, black, leather mini-skirt and a bright red sweater. He’d never seen Kara dressed in anything other than jeans and a t-shirt that sported the restaurant’s logo, standard casual dress for employees of his mom’s restaurant.

He did a surprised double-take as the woman got closer, gaping when her face came into view. Holy Christ! It was Kara. She was close enough that he could see her features, the same face that haunted his wet dreams every damn night, but the outfit….

What in hell is she wearing?

Simon could see almost every inch of her long, slender, shapely legs in the ultra-short mini and the whole outfit molded over her breasts, torso, and ass like a glove. His cock was instantly standing at full attention and he pulled his hands out of his pockets. They curled into tight fists as a bead of sweat rolled down his face. Followed by another. And another.

Goddamnit! What was she thinking? Dressed that way, she was practically begging for some man to come and snatch her up off the street.

And, by God, he was going to be that man. He wasn’t leaving that opportunity to another male, someone who might do her harm.

Didn’t she realize that this was Tampa? A major city! It wasn’t some tiny town where she could walk the streets at night and not be noticed or accosted.

Simon unclenched one fist and gripped the window frame for support, his eyes never leaving the approaching female. Gritting his teeth, Simon knew that today was the day he was going to have to get close to her, closer than he’d ever been before. He couldn’t handle these animalistic and rampant emotions anymore. He didn’t like them, wasn’t used to them. All he wanted was his sanity back, to return to his computer and work on his passion for developing computer games without erotic thoughts of Kara taking over his brain.

Sense. Reason. Control. That was how he functioned and what he needed in order to be himself again, and dammit, he’d get back to his normal state of mind, no matter what drastic measures he had to take to achieve it. Somehow, he would purge himself of this incredibly stupid and raging desire for Kara Foster.

His mind made up, Simon pushed off the window frame and stood up straight, lowering his “mask” until his face was devoid of emotion. He was good at that. He’d been raised in an area of Los Angeles where most normal people would never even enter, a place where being weak, slow-witted, or fragile in any way meant being destroyed.

If nothing else, Simon Hudson was a survivor. His guise firmly in place, he ripped his gaze from the window, turned sharply and strode purposefully toward the door.

*****

Kara Foster was having a seriously bad day!

She hefted her backpack to make it sit more solidly on her shoulder and reached for the hem of her ridiculously short skirt, yanking it down hard to cover her ass. The clothes looked great on her classmate, Lisa, who was several inches shorter and seven years younger than Kara. Unfortunately, they didn’t look quite the same on Kara’s taller, fuller body. The sweater hugged her generous breasts and the skirt was too damn short, barely concealing the cheeks of her ass.

She was a street-smart woman, having grown up in one of the worst areas of Tampa and coming through the experience intact. Kara knew how to protect herself, how to avoid any unwanted attention. So what in the hell was she doing in an outfit that was bound to get her in trouble? Stupid, Kara. Really, really stupid!

Frowning, Kara forced herself to keep walking. No big deal. She was in a decent area. So what if she looked like a sex kitten in sneakers? Eight more blocks and she would be home, free to finally strip off the ludicrous outfit and put on her own comfortable jeans and t-shirt.

Kara heaved a sigh as she focused solely on arriving at the tiny apartment that she shared with another student. Her legs were cold and she shivered, walking faster to get her body warm. It was January in Tampa, and while the daytime hours were pleasant, it got chilly at night. She should have brought her jacket, but she had been running late this morning.

She hadn’t planned to have her legs bare and her behind flapping in the breeze.

The day is almost over.

Thank God!

She had spilled coffee on her own jeans and t-shirt earlier in the day. With no time to go home and change before she had to get to work, Kara had gratefully accepted the offer of clean clothes from Lisa, a classmate who was never without a change of clothing in her car. It wasn’t that Kara didn’t appreciate the kindness of her classmate. She definitely did. Kara just wished she could wear the clothing with the same attitude as Lisa. But…she couldn’t. She was used to keeping a low profile, and she was mortified that she probably resembled a call girl with bad shoes, functioning the entire day and evening with a hint of red on her cheeks and trying desperately not to bend over.

When she had arrived at the restaurant for her shift, her kind boss, Helen Hudson, had taken pity on her and dug in the drawers for an apron that reached Kara’s knees and covered her exposed backside.

Wishing she had worn the apron home, she jerked again at the bottom of the snug skirt with more than a hint of frustration, hoping she wasn’t flashing anything more than some bare thigh.

Exhaustion tugged at Kara’s body and her stomach rumbled. She had gotten so busy at work that she hadn’t taken the time to eat. The small, cozy restaurant had been busy, much busier than usual because it was Friday night. She had actually been grateful for the customers. The tip money she had in her backpack was all that stood between her and a completely empty bank account. Maybe she could buy a few groceries now that she had a few bucks from tips. Her cupboards at home were bare and her roommate seemed to be in even worse financial shape than Kara. Lydia never bought food and whatever Kara bought disappeared quickly.

Last semester! You can make it.

Damn…it had been a long four years, and Kara felt much older than her actual age of twenty-eight years. Actually, she just felt old. Period! Most of her classmates were barely legal drinking age and were all about college partying, while Kara could only think about making it through each day, getting one step closer to graduation.

Kara had lost her parents in an auto accident at the age of eighteen and was pretty much alone. After working for several years as a waitress, barely surviving, she knew she had to either go to college or resign herself to struggling through life with no end to poverty in sight.

She didn’t regret the decision to go to college, but it had been difficult, an arduous and lonely road that she could only be grateful was almost over.

You’ll make it. Almost there!

Kara stopped abruptly as the sidewalk started to tilt and her vision blurred. Oh, shit. Her hand reached out to grip the post of a streetlight to steady herself as her brain whirled and her body trembled. Dizziness made it impossible to function, to advance any farther. Damn it. I should have taken the time to eat.

“Kara!” She heard the low, no-nonsense baritone filter through to her foggy brain. The voice was abrupt, but it was reassuring to know that someone who knew her, who recognized her, was here.

Shaking her head, trying to clear her vision, Kara tightened her grip on the metal post and willed herself not to pass out on the cold stone pavement as her body swayed precariously, preparing itself for the fall.

*****

 

 

Chapter 2

“Christ, you look like hell!” The same voice, impatient and husky, broke through her hazy mind, and she felt a pair of solid, muscular arms come around her as she was lifted against a solid, rock-hard chest.

Warm…so warm. Instinctively, she snuggled into the heat of the sturdy, heat-producing form, trying to use the body heat to unlock her chilled muscles.

She rested her spinning head against a very broad, very solid shoulder and sighed as the mystery man passed through a set of doors and into a warm building. Somewhere inside her mind, she knew she should be fighting him, trying to break away from the strange man whose voice she didn’t recognize, but she didn’t have the strength.

Kara acknowledged the ping of an elevator bell and her stomach rebelled as the steel chamber lurched, moving upward at what seemed like a lightning-fast, head-spinning speed.

Moments later, she was gently lowered to a comfortable bed and covered in a warm comforter that eased the chill from her body. Her shoes were removed roughly and dropped to the floor. She opened her eyes and tried to focus. Struggling to sit up, she found herself pushed back down onto the pillows by strong hands on her shoulders. “Don’t move. Not one inch.”

“I’m fine. I’ve had a little bug. I thought I was over it. It was just a little dizziness,” she argued as she tried to sit up again.

“You’re not fine,” the voice barked. “The doctor is here to see you. He lives in the building. He saw you nearly take a nosedive into the pavement.”

“Doctor?” Alarmed, Kara focused on another man who lurked behind the bossy one. “I don’t need a doctor.” She couldn’t afford a doctor.

“Too late. He’s here. And you are being checked.”

“I can refuse,” she answered hesitantly, her gaze finally meeting the dark eyes of her rescuer.

“You won’t,” he told her in a warning voice.

His perilous appearance kept a sharp retort from exiting her mouth. God, he was huge. Broad shoulders filled her vision as he crouched beside the bed. She had felt his muscular body while he was carrying her, but now she could visually appreciate the strength of those arms and his solid bulk as her sight cleared and the dizziness began to subside.

Big. Dark. Dangerous. Kara’s blue eyes clashed with his dark brown stare, his look so ferocious that it was almost frightening. He ran his hand impatiently through his short black hair, his expression grim. He wasn’t handsome in any conventional way, his features too sharp and his olive complexion marred by a small scar to his right temple and another on his left cheek. But damn…he was appealing in a carnal, sensual sort of way. Kara could feel the intensity vibrating from his body and entering hers, making her nipples hard and sensitive. “Who are you?” she asked him softly, remembering that he had called her by name.

“Simon Hudson. Helen Hudson’s son.” He stood and backed up to let the older man behind him step forward.

Helen’s son? Simon. She had never met Sam or Simon, but she had heard all about them from her boss, a woman who had become a very close friend over the years. Simon was the youngest. In his early thirties. A computer genius, he developed computer games that had started the Hudson Corporation on its way to becoming a company worth billions.

“Young lady, I heard you’ve been sick. I’m Dr. Simms. Let me take a quick look at you.” A kind, middle-aged face replaced Mr. Tall, Dark and Unhappy. Kara let out a relieved breath and gave the jovial doctor a small smile.

“I’m fine. A virus. Maybe I wasn’t quite over it and it’s been a long day. Just a little residual fatigue,” she assured the physician, wanting to put on her well-worn sneakers and run away from this humbling situation as soon as possible.

Simon stood behind the good doctor, his arms crossed and his face formidable. Geez…the man was fierce. It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen plenty of scary men in her life, but there was something about Simon that had her heart thumping and her body on high alert.

Kara let the doctor do his exam. Dr. Simms was kind and efficient with a bedside manner that had her smiling as he chatted absently during his evaluation. He gave her commands and asked the standard questions. She answered his questions as briefly as possible, wanting to get the exam finished and get out of Simon Hudson’s constrained presence.

Dr. Simms stood with a congenial smile as he completed his exam. “You need rest, food, and more time to get over this virus. You might have been feeling slightly better for a day because your fever broke, but the fever is back and the virus isn’t completely through your system. You’re already run down and it doesn’t sound like you sleep or eat properly.” The doctor’s smile broadened. “Typical of us medical folks. It may have been a while ago, but I still remember medical school.” After a pause, the doctor asked professionally, “Any chance you could be pregnant?”

Kara’s eyes shot to Simon’s face, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Did Simon really need to be hearing all of this? His eyes locked with hers and his body seemed visibly tense as he waited for her answer.

“No. Absolutely no possibility,” she answered with a timidity that was usually not part of her personality. There wasn’t a chance in hell that she was pregnant, unless a vibrator could knock her up, and lately, she was even too tired to use that. Her sex drive was dead from eighty-hour weeks of work and school. The only action her bed got was Kara, alone, sleeping for the few hours of rest that she got every night after her late-night study sessions.

The doctor breezed over the subject, instructing her to rest and treat the symptoms with over-the-counter fever medications.

Kara thanked him and gave him a tremulous smile before he turned to Simon, the two men talking quietly as they left the bedroom.

She sat up quickly, too quickly, and the room rotated for a minute before her head cleared. God, she was as weak as a kitten from the return of the fever and lack of food. She bent slowly and snatched her shoes from the floor, sitting on the bed to cram her feet into them without even untying the laces.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Kara jerked up at the sound of the booming voice, her foot only halfway into her second shoe.

“I need to get home,” she answered, uncomfortable now that she was alone with Simon. He was too big, too gruff, too demanding, too much of everything. There was something about him that made her feel off-balance, and it had nothing to do with her virus.

He swung her legs back onto the bed and pulled her shoes off. Damn. All of that hard work gone in seconds. Putting on those shoes had been an effort and she didn’t appreciate having to do it again.

“You’re sick and you’re staying here,” Simon told her sternly as his dark eyes swept over her and he grimaced.

“I can’t. I’m working tomorrow. I need to get some sleep.”

“You’re not working for at least the next week. I already called Mom and told her to replace you.” His expression was disapproving as he covered her body with the comforter and sat on top of it, effectively trapping her. “I also took the liberty of grabbing your keys from your backpack so that my assistant can go to your place and get you some clothes in case your roommate isn’t home.”

“But I-”

“Don’t argue! This discussion is over. I’m going to make you something to eat and you will eat it. Then you’ll go to sleep.” He stood and exited, the orders still reverberating through the rather impressive space of the bedroom.

Fuming, Kara sat up and debated whether she dared to spring out of bed and through the door of what looked like a condo. A very nice condo! The bedroom was spacious and decorated in shades of tan and black. Tan, plush carpet and masculine dark furniture dominated the room. The bed was enormous and sat on a frame of intricate black ironwork that supported a canopy of what looked to be tan silk with woven black and brown designs. It was a beautiful room, bold and dark, just like the man who owned it.

Did he really expect her to stay here? Yes, his mother was her boss and friend, but she didn’t know Simon and she wasn’t sure she liked him. He was bossy, impatient, and expected people to jump when he said jump. Or stay when he said stay-sort of like a well-trained dog. Unfortunately for him, Kara didn’t take orders well. She had made her own decisions since her parents had passed away and the last thing she needed was a domineering billionaire calling the shots in her life. The only thing money meant to Kara was security. Other than that, she couldn’t care less about what money could buy; it was hard to miss material things that she had never had.

He called Helen to replace me? There was no way she could miss a week of work. Missing two days this week had already stretched her empty bank account. She relied on her tips to survive, and she didn’t get tips by sitting on her butt at home. She had missed two evenings because she had no choice. The virus had eaten her up and spit her out, leaving her prostrate on her bed and sicker than she had been since she was a child.

She sighed and leaned back against the pillows. She was so tired and so damned weak right now. All she really wanted to do was bury herself in this warm, comfortable bed and sleep until she wasn’t tired anymore. What would that be like? She couldn’t remember a time that she wasn’t exhausted. It had become normal for her to feel drained during the last four years; she only slept a few hours a night and her meals were sporadic, depending on what she could afford.

Kara looked up as she heard the clink of glass-on-glass and saw Simon coming into the room, juggling dishes. She bit back a smile, thinking that it was a good thing that he was a computer geek, because he would never make it as a waiter. He had a glass in one hand and a plate in the other. A bowl was balanced precariously between his elbow and chest. She wanted to tell him it would be easier if he just put the bowl on the plate, but she bit back the suggestion.

“I don’t know what you like,” he grumbled as he put the glass on the bedside table and handed her the bowl. He sounded cantankerous over the fact that there was something he didn’t know. “Soup. Eat.”

Talk about a man of few words. He issued commands like a drill sergeant. “Simon, I can’t stay here,” she told him softly as she accepted the bowl of steaming soup. Chicken noodle. Her favorite. Stomach rumbling from the tempting aroma coming from the bowl, she lifted the spoon and took a cautious bite. She could tell that it had come out of a can, but it tasted delicious and her rumbling stomach made her shovel it in like a starving woman.

“You are staying. Take these.” He scowled at her as he held up a hand and dropped two pills into her open palm.

Extra-Strength Tylenol. She popped them into her mouth gratefully and reached for the glass. Simon handed it to her before she could reach it. She swallowed and handed the juice back to Simon’s waiting hand before replying, “I have to work. I can’t afford to be off. I already took two days because I was sick. I’m sure I’ll feel better by tomorrow.”

“You bet your sweet, exposed ass you will. I’ll make sure that you do,” he replied, his voice irascible.

Kara continued to eat her soup as she eyed his expression. He was serious. Dead serious. How did a sweet woman like Helen end up with a crabby-ass son like Simon? “You’re not my boss, Simon.”

“No, but my mother is and she agrees that you aren’t working. She didn’t realize you were still ill,” he told her, his expression surly. “Hell…I don’t know how she missed it. You have black circles under your eyes that make you look like a raccoon and you look dead on your feet. Mom’s definitely slipping. She can usually dig out any problem. Painfully, if necessary,” he rumbled, as though he were remembering a few of those painful experiences.

“I was feeling better earlier. And she was trying to help me find something to wear over my skirt,” she told him calmly as she finished off the soup.

“Where in the hell did you get that outfit? I’ve never seen you in anything but jeans,” he queried softly, dangerously. Kara quivered as his eyes roamed over the quilt, as though he could see her scantily-clad body through the material.

“It was a loan,” she said, accepting the plate that held a yummy-looking sandwich as he took away the bowl. “Like a complete idiot, I spilled coffee down the front of my clothes today and didn’t have time to run home before work.”

“You are not an idiot,” he stated curtly.

Swallowing a bite of the delicious egg salad sandwich, Kara’s eyes jerked up to his face in surprise. “We’ve never met. How did you recognize me? How do you know what I usually wear?”

He shrugged and diverted his eyes. “I’ve seen you around the restaurant.”

“I’ve never seen you at the restaurant.”

“I stop by to see Mom. I usually don’t go out front.”

Helen’s office was in the back, so it made sense. Kara was silent while she wolfed down the rest of the sandwich. God…she was hungry…and grateful for the meal.

“Thank you,” she told him sincerely as she handed the plate back to him and he set it on the bedside table.

“You need to eat. And sleep.” He touched the dark patches under her eyes softly with his index finger. “I’ve never been close enough to see how tired you look.”

“The virus kicked my rear,” she murmured lightly, feeling warmed not only by the food, but by the concerned frown on Simon’s face. “I’ll feel well enough to work tomorrow.”

He handed her the glass of juice. “Don’t even think about it. Finish that and sleep.”

Too tired to argue, Kara downed the juice and gave up the glass to his waiting hand. She’d deal with everything later. Her eyes were drooping and exhaustion pressed on her body like weights. She needed to close her eyes.

Snuggling under the quilt, Kara sighed and rested her head on the pillow. For the first time in years, she felt full, comfortable and…safe. Simon might be cranky, but he had apparently appointed himself her protector. It was somehow…comforting.

With that strange thought rolling around in her mind, she slept.

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*****A NY TIMES AND USA TODAY BESTSELLER****

GENRE: Contemporary Erotic RomanceOnce a serial trilogy, The Billionaire’s Obsession is now complete with a bonus story in this complete collection about Simon and Kara.This complete collection of The Billionaire’s Obsession includes:

Mine For Tonight
Mine For Now
Mine Forever
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Heart Of The Billionaire ~ Sam and Maddie’s story is now available on Amazon.

Down on her luck, nursing student and full-time waitress Kara Foster gets a massive blow to her already desperate financial situation that will surely find her living on the streets. Needing nothing less than a miracle to save her, Kara gets rescue from an unknown, unlikely and overwhelming source. Billionaire Simon Hudson makes her an offer that is impossible to refuse, but terrifying to accept from a man that she’s never met. Will the handsome, alpha billionaire really be a solution to her problems, or will he end up being a major complication and a danger to her emotional sanity?

Reclusive billionaire Simon Hudson would rather be behind a computer creating computer games than rubbing elbows with the elite and he knows exactly what he wants…until he meets Kara Foster. Something about Kara touches Simon in ways he’s never experienced and definitely doesn’t like. For over a year, Simon watches over Kara, but stubbornly refuses to admit his desire to possess her, not even to himself. But when she ends up in a situation that could very well be her destruction, Simon steps up to help her, not realizing that in saving Kara, he might very well be salvaging his own soul.

(This is a erotic romance. It contains graphic language, very steamy love scenes and lots of emotion.)
5-Star Amazon Reviews

“This collection was out of this world from the first page of the first book to the last page of the last book. The passion, the love, the challenges, the connections, and the drama were out of this world and kept me flipping until I finished the set in one evening.”

“A wonderful read by J S Scott. Touching and heartfelt, the characters envelope you in their lives. Each character drawing an emotional tie with the reader. I would recommend this book for any reader of romance who likes a little classy spice to their story and am now hooked on J S Scott’s works.”

“I loved this series! The balance between suspenseful romance and indulgence was beautifully delivered, It will definitely leave you with a well contented sigh……”

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Free Romance Excerpt Featuring New York Times Bestselling Author Susan Mallery’s When We Met – Just Released & Already Hundreds of Rave Reviews!

Last week we announced that Susan Mallery’s When We Met is our Romance of the Week and the sponsor of thousands of great bargains in the Romance category: over 200 free titles, over 600 quality 99-centers, and thousands more that you can read for free through the Kindle Lending Library if you have Amazon Prime!

Now we’re back to offer our weekly free Romance excerpt, and if you aren’t among those who have downloaded When We Met, you’re in for a real treat:

When We Met (Hqn)

by Susan Mallery

4.7 stars – 217 Reviews
Text-to-Speech: Enabled
Or check out the Audible.com version of When We Met (Hqn)
in its Audible Audio Edition, Unabridged!
Here’s the set-up:

New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery invites you back to Fool’s Gold, where a newcomer to town might finally meet the man she never knew she needed…

Angel Whittaker earned his scars the hard way, but the scars that can’t be seen are the ones that haunt him the most. Since he moved to Fool’s Gold, California, he’s cobbled together a life for himself as a bodyguard trainer. If he’s not exactly happy, at least his heart is safe.

Working with pro-football superstars taught tough-talking PR woman Taryn Crawford one thing—she can go toe-to-toe with any man. But then dark, dangerous former Special Ops Angel targets her for seduction…and challenges her to resist his tempting kisses.

Even in four-inch heels, Taryn never backs down. Unless, somehow, Angel can convince her that surrender might feel even better than victory.

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  And here, for your reading pleasure, is our free romance excerpt:

Chapter One

 

“We both know where this is going.”

Taryn Crawford glanced up at the man standing by her table and ignored the rush of anticipation when she saw who he was. He was tall, with broad shoulders and gray eyes. But the most compelling feature—the one she would guess people pretended didn’t exist—was the scar on his neck. As if someone had once tried to slit his throat. Taryn idly wondered what had happened when that person had failed.

She supposed there were plenty of women who would be intimidated  by the man in front of her. The sheer volume of muscles might make one apprehensive. Not her, of course. When in doubt she put on a power suit and killer heels. If that didn’t work, she would simply work harder than anyone else. Whatever it took to win. Sure there was a price, but she was okay with that.

Which was why she was able to stare coolly back and ask, “Do we?”

One corner of his mouth curved slightly in a sort of pre-smile. “Sure, but if you’re more comfortable pretending we don’t, I can make that work, too.”

“A challenge. Intriguing. You don’t expect it to be enough to make me defensive so I start saying more than I had planned, do you?” She made sure she was plenty relaxed in her chair. She would guess the man was paying as much attention to her body language as her words. Maybe more. She hoped he wouldn’t make things easy. She was tired of easy.

“I would hate for you to be disappointed,” she murmured.

The smile turned genuine. “I’d hate that, too.” He pulled out the chair opposite hers. “May I?”

She nodded. He sat.

It was barely after ten on a Tuesday morning. Brew-haha, the local coffee place she’d escaped to for a few minutes of solitude before she returned to the current chaos at her office, was relatively quiet. She’d ordered a latte and had pulled out her tablet to catch up on the latest financial news. Until she’d been interrupted. Nice to know this was going to be a good day.

She studied the man across from her. He was older than the boys, she thought. The three men she worked with—Jack, Sam and Kenny—aka the boys, were all in their early to mid-thirties. Her guest was nearer to forty. Just old enough to have the experience to make things interesting, she thought.

“We’ve never been introduced,” she said.

“You know who I am.”

A statement, not a question. “Do I?”

One dark eyebrow rose. “Angel Whittaker. I work at CDS.”

Otherwise known as the bodyguard school, she reminded herself. For a small town, Fool’s Gold had its share of unusual businesses.

“Taryn Crawford.”

She waited, but he didn’t make a move.

“We’re not shaking hands?” she asked, then picked up her latte with both hers. Just to be difficult, because being difficult would make things more fun.

“I figured we’d save the touching for later. I find it’s more interesting when that sort of thing happens in private.”

Taryn had opened Score, her PR firm, eight years ago. She’d had to deal with unwelcome  passes, assumptions she was an idiot, being asked who the boss was, pats on her butt, and people presuming that if she worked with three ex-football players that she must have gotten her job by sleeping with them. She was used to staying calm, keeping her opinions to herself and gaining victory through the unanticipated side run.

This time Angel had been the one to put the first points of the board. He was good, she thought, intrigued and only slightly miffed.

“Are you coming on to me, Mr. Whittaker? Because it’s still a little early in the morning for that sort of thing.”

“You’ll know when I’m making my move,” he informed her. “Right now I’m simply telling you how things are.”

“Which takes us back to your comment that we both know where this is going. I’ll admit to being confused. Perhaps you have me mixed up with someone else.”

She uncrossed, then recrossed her long legs. She wasn’t trying to be provocative, but if Angel got distracted, it was hardly her fault.

For a second she allowed herself to wonder how she would have been different if she’d been able to grow up in a more traditional home. One with the requisite 2.4 children and somewhat normal parents. She certainly wouldn’t be as driven. Or as tough. Sometimes she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

He leaned toward her. “I hadn’t taken you for the type to play games.”

“We all play games,” she told him.

“Fair enough. Then I’ll be blunt.”

She sipped her coffee, then swallowed. “Please.”

“I saw you last fall.”

“How nice,” she murmured.

When she’d been scouting locations. Moving a company required time and effort. They’d only truly settled in Fool’s Gold a couple of months ago. But she had been in town the previous fall, and yes, she’d seen Angel as well. Found out who he was and had wondered about…possibilities. Not that she was going to admit that to him.

“I watched you,” he continued.

“Should I be concerned you’re a stalker?”

“Not when you were watching me right back.”

He’d noticed? Damn. She’d tried to be subtle. She thought about lying, but decided to simply stay silent. After a second, he continued.

“So we’ve finished sizing each other up,” he said. “Now it’s time to move on to the next phase of a game.”

“There are phases?” Which was an actual question. No point in mentioning the game. She knew what they were doing. Still, it was entertaining to pretend she didn’t.

“Several.”

“Do you provide instructions or a scorecard?”

His cool gray eyes stayed focused on her face. “You don’t play that way.”

“An interesting assumption.”

“I’m not assuming.”

He had an appealing voice. Low with a hint of… Not the deep south, she thought. But there was a cadence. Virginia? West Virginia?

She put down her mug. “If I buy into your assertion—which I’m not admitting I do.”

“Of course not.”

She ignored the words and the amusement tugging at his lips. “Where do you see this going?”

He leaned back in his chair. “This is a mating game, Taryn. Or didn’t you know?”

Ah, his first mistake. She kept her eyes locked with his and didn’t let her triumph show. “You want to marry me?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Not that kind of mating.”

“If you’re not precise, it’s difficult to be sure. So you want to sleep with me.”

“Yes, but it’s about more than that.”

She let her gaze drift down his chest, then moved to his arms. Despite the cool late April temperatures, he wore a T-shirt and no jacket. She could see a tattoo of a rose, along with several scars on his arms. His hands were strong and equally battered.

She returned her attention to the scar on his neck and decided to ask the obvious. “What happened to him?”

He touched the side of his throat, then shrugged. “He had a very bad day.”

Taryn lived in the world of business. She could talk finance and sales projections but her real gift was designing public relations campaigns that were innovative and successful. At Score the work was divided among the four partners. Kenny and Jack were the rainmakers. They found prospective clients and reeled them in. Sam handled the money. But Taryn was the creative engine that steered the ship.

She was used to executives, graphic artists, bankers and everything in between. In her sphere, she was a power player and no one crossed her. But that wasn’t Angel. His clout didn’t come from a boardroom or the right suit. He carried it in his body. It was part of who he was.

She knew a few odds and ends about him. People she respected and trusted liked him. But the details? They were still a mystery. One she would like to solve.

“What makes you think I’m the least bit interested?” she asked.

“You’re still here.”

A good point. She didn’t want another executive—he would be too much like her. As for sports heroes, she worked with three and they exhausted her. Angel was different. Right now, different sounded like exactly what she needed.

“Effort will be required ,” she told him.

“Ditto.”

She laughed at the unexpected statement.

“You didn’t think I’d be easy, did you?” he asked.

“Apparently not.”

He stood. “Don’t worry. I’m good at planning the right op for the right mission and then seeing it through.” He crossed to the door, then turned back to her. “And I’m good at waiting.”

He walked out, leaving her with her rapidly cooling coffee and an article on consumer confidence that had just gotten a whole lot less interesting than her encounter with an intriguing man name Angel.

Smug felt good, Angel thought  as he crossed the street and headed for City Hall. He’d been waiting for the right moment to talk to Taryn and when he’d seen her having coffee by herself, he’d decided to act. She was as good as he’d hoped—intelligent, confident and sexy as hell. A combination he would have trouble resisting under the best of circumstances. But in this town, with her always around…he’d wanted to make his move the first day.

Waiting had been better, he told himself as he jogged up the stairs to the front of the government building. Now he could put his plan into action. The one that led them down a road of temptation, with an ultimate objective that should satisfy them both.

He took more stairs to the second floor and followed the signs to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Marsha Tilson was California’s longest serving mayor. She served the town well and seemed to know everyone’s secrets. Angel had yet to figure out where she got her information, but from what he’d seen, she had a network that would put most governments to shame.

He entered her office exactly fifteen seconds before the time of his appointment.

Her assistant, an older woman in black blazer, looked up at him with red and puffy eyes. Angel immediately sensed bubbling emotion and glanced around to room to discover all available exits.

The woman, a full-figured brunette, sniffed. “You must be Mr. Whittaker. Go right in. She’s expecting you.”

Angel did as instructed, hoping to find a calmer atmosphere in the mayor’s office. His cautious optimism was rewarded. Mayor Marsha looked as she always did—perfectly put together. She wore a light green suit, pearls and had her white hair neatly swirled up in some old-lady bun. She smiled and stood when she saw him.

“Mr. Whittaker. You made it.”

“Angel, please.” He crossed the room and shook hands with her, then settled in the seat across from hers.

Her office was large with several windows. Behind her desk were the flags of the United States and the State of California, along with a large seal he would guess represented the city of Fool’s Gold.

“Your assistant’s upset,” he said.

“Marjorie’s worked with me for years. But her twin daughters have settled in Portland, Oregon. They’re both pregnant. Marjorie’s husband retired, so they’re going to move closer to family. While she’s excited about being nearer her daughters and future grandchildren, she’s sad about leaving all of us here.”

More than he wanted to know, he thought, keeping his expression polite.

Mayor Marsha smiled. “Now I’ll have to find someone new. Hiring staff is relatively easy, but an assistant is a different matter. There has to be chemistry and trust. One can’t let just anyone know the town’s secrets.” The smile widened. “Not why you came to see me today.” She leaned forward and picked up a file from the stack on her large desk.

“All right, Angel, let’s see what we have here.” She slipped on reading glasses. “You’re interested in a project that will involve you with the community.”

Angel had been to some of the most dangerous parts of the world in various capacities. He’d taken his sniper training into the private sector and now designed curriculum for people training to be professional bodyguards. Not much surprised him. But he would swear he hadn’t told anyone his reason for making his appointment with Mayor Marsha, which begged the question. : How did the old lady know?

She glanced at him over her glasses. “Did I have that correct?”

He decided he had little choice but to simply nod and say, “Yes, ma’am.”

The smile returned. “Good. You have a unique background and an unusual skill set. I’ve given the matter a lot of thought and I think you’d be a perfect grove keeper.”

Grove what? “Ma’am?”

“Are you familiar with the history of the town?” she asked, then closed the folder. “This is California, so there was the expected exploration by the Spanish in the 1700s, but long before that, Fool’s Gold was settled by the Máa-zib tribe.”

Angel had heard something about that. “A branch of Mayans,” he murmured. “Matriarchal.”

“Yes.” The smile returned. “I would guess you’d respect a group of women who only want to use a man for sex.”

Angel wasn’t sure if he should flinch or pat the old lady on the back. Instead he cleared his throat. “All right,” he said slowly. “Interesting.”

“It is. We have long celebrated our Máa-zib culture and that includes a youth group. Future Warriors of the Máa-zib. Young people start at the age of six with a two-month introduction to what it’s like to be in the FWM. That’s followed by four years of membership. We have Acorns, Sprouts, Saplings, Sky-Reachers and Mighty Oaks. Each group or troop is known as a grove and the person in charge is a grove keeper.”

She put down her glasses. “There is a new grove starting in a couple of weeks. I think you would make an excellent grove keeper.”

Kids, he thought with surprise. He liked kids. His goal had been to get involved with Fool’s Gold because he’d decided to stay here and he’d been raised to give back to the community. He’d thought maybe he could volunteer on some advisory committee or teach a continuing ed class—although his skill set didn’t exactly fit in the regular world. Still…kids.

He hesitated only a second, then realized it had been long enough since he’d lost Marcus. The pain was still there—would always be a part of him, like a scar, or his heart—but it had become manageable. He would be able to work with teenaged boys without wanting to argue with the heavens about how unfair it had all been.

“Sure,” he said easily. “I can run a grove.”

Amusement twinkled in Mayor Marsha’s blue eyes. “I’m glad to hear it. I think you’ll find the experience fulfilling on several levels. I’ll make sure you get your material in the next few days, then meet with the Grove Council.”

He grinned. “Seriously? There’s a Grove Council?”

She laughed. “Of course. These are Future Warriors of the Máa-zib. What else would there be?”

She rose and he did as well. “Thank you, Angel. Usually I have to go out and convince new residents to pitch in. I appreciate that you came to me.” She studied him. “I assume your interest in giving back is the result of your background. You grew up in a coal mining town, didn’t you? West Virginia?”

While the information wasn’t secret, it wasn’t something he shared very often. “You’re a spooky old lady,” he told her. “You know that, right?”

The smile broadened. “Not many people have the courage to say it to my face, but I do hope that’s what they’re saying behind my back.”

“They are,” he assured her.

They shook hands and he left. Marjorie was still in tears, so he hustled out  and hit the stairs at a jog. Maybe he would spend the afternoon looking for campsites, he thought cheerfully. He had plenty of survival skills he could pass on to his FWM grove. Ways to help them grow up to be confident men. Yeah—this was going to be good.

#

“Jack, stop it,” Taryn said without looking up from the papers in front of her.

The shifting sound stilled, only to start up again five seconds later. She drew in a breath and glanced across the small conference table.

“Seriously,” she told him. “You’re worse than a five year-old.”

Jack, her business partner and ex-husband , rotated his shoulder. “When does Larissa get here?”

“I told you, tomorrow. In twenty-four hours you’ll have her back. Now can you please focus?”

“That would require half a brain,” Kenny said with a grin. “Jack doesn’t have that.”

She glared at Kenny. “Don’t you start.”

Sam, the only calm, rational partner, leaned back in his chair. “You can’t control them when they’re like this. You know that. Why are you trying so hard?”

Because it was her job to try hard. She kept “the boys” on a tight leash because if she didn’t, they would run all over her.

She’d known Jack the longest. After their quickie marriage and equally speedy divorce, he’d set her up in business. He’d provided the money, she’d brought the PR know-how and Score had been an instant success—helped by Jack throwing a lot of business her way. It had been a great arrangement.

Unfortunately four years later, Kenny had blown out his knee and ended his career. Sam had been thinking of getting out of the NFL and for reasons Taryn couldn’t figure out, Jack had joined them. Her ex had walked away from his starring role as a quarterback with the LA Stallions. He claimed he wanted to go out on top, but she suspected his departure had more to do with his friends than anything else. Not that Jack would admit it.

There they were—three ex-jocks—with plenty of cash and fame and no second act in the wings. Oh wait. Jack was half owner of a PR firm. Before she’d known what was happening, he’d brought Kenny and Sam on board and all four of them were partners.

At first she’d been sure they would crash and burn, but more quickly than she would have guessed possible, they’d become a team and then a family. Jack and Kenny were the sales guys. They brought in the clients and were the public face of the firm. Sam handled the finances, both company and private. Not only was he smart, he’d actually gone to his classes in college.

Taryn handled everything else. She ran the business, bossed around the boys and created the campaigns that had continued to add to their net worth. Theirs was an unconventional arrangement but it worked for them.

Jack shifted again, the muscle in his cheek tightening. She reminded herself he wasn’t trying to be difficult—he was in pain. No one could get through nearly a decade in the NFL and not have the battered body to prove it. Larissa, Jack’s personal assistant and the boys’ private masseuse, hadn’t been able to move to Fool’s Gold as quickly as the rest of them. After nearly a month without her healing touch, all three of the former players were suffering.

“Tomorrow,” she said again.

“You sure?”

“Yes.” She paused. “You could take something.”

The statement was made in her most gentle voice, one her partners almost never heard. Because she knew that Jack was going to refuse. With permanent injuries and the discomfort that went with them, painkillers could be a slick road to hell. None of the guys wanted to go there.

“What’s next?” he asked, ignoring her words.

“We’re up,” Kenny told him, then opened the file in front of him. “Jack and I had a second meeting with the CEO and founder of Living Life at a Run.” He reached for the remote in the center of the table and hit a button. The screen at the far end of the room lit up and a logo came into focus.

Taryn studied the angular letters and the quirky acronym. LL@R. She wanted to point out that one of the a’s was missing , but knew there wasn’t any point. The company’s CEO had a reputation for being eccentric and difficult. But he offered them a shot at traditional retail—one area of the PR market where Score had never had much luck finding clients.

“They’re growing fast,” Kenny said. “They’re trendy and a lot of celebrities are wearing their clothes.”

“The clothing is a secondary market for them,” Jack added. “Their main focus is sports gear. If we could get them, we could move toward bigger companies. Like REI.”

Taryn would love to get her hands on a premium company like REI but the old cliché was true. They would have to learn to walk before they could learn to run.

“What’s next?” she asked.

“I have another meeting in a few days,” Kenny said.

Taryn waited and sure enough Jack stared at his friend. “I? I? Is that where we are? Each out for what we can get? What happened to the team? What happened to us being a family?”

Kenny, all six-feet four inches of blond brawn, groaned. “Give me a break. You know what I meant.”

“Do I? Sounds to me like this is all about you.”

“You need to be specific,” Sam said mildly, obviously content to join the mock argument. Taryn knew that any second now he would turn on Jack, because that’s what always happened when they were like this.

They were each successful, good-looking and worth close to ten figures. Yet there were times when they were as unruly and mischievous as a litter of puppies. Sam and Jack were both dark haired. Sam, the former kicker, was lean and just six feet tall. Jack had him by a couple of inches and at least thirty pounds of muscle. Jack’s classic quarterback physique—broad shoulders, narrow hips, long legs—had served him well, both on and off the field. Then there was Kenny, the gentle giant of the group.

Her boys, she thought as they bickered. They were responsible for her move to Fool’s Gold—something she wasn’t sure she was willing to forgive just yet. The town wasn’t as bad as she’d first thought, but it sure wasn’t L.A. She loved L.A.

“So I’ll be in charge?” Jack asked with a grin.

“Your mama,” Kenny told him.

“Don’t break anything,” Taryn said as she collected her papers and started for the door. Because whenever she heard “your mama,” body blows were sure to follow.

Sam went with her. “Not going to try to stop them?” he asked cheerfully as they stepped into the hallway.

“That would be your job.”

Something hit the wall with a thud. Sam kept walking. “No thanks.”

“The three of you are never going to grow up, are you?” she asked.

“I’m not the one fighting.”

She glanced at him. “Not this time.”

He gave her a wink, then sauntered away. Taryn continued to her office. In the distance, she heard a crash. Jude, her fifty-something assistant, entered the room.

“Kenny and Sam?” she asked, the inevitable notepad in hand.

“Jack and Kenny.”

Jude sighed as she wrote. “I’ll check later and see what’s been broken. You have a conference call at eleven and graphics needs to see you when you can spare a few minutes.”

“Thanks,” Taryn said, turning to her computer. “Just another day in paradise.”

“You love them.”

Taryn smiled at Jude. “Heaven help me, I do.”

The boys were her family and no matter how many chairs, tables, windows and hearts they broke , she would stand by them. Even if every now and then she fantasized about how much more serene her life would be if she’d gone into business with a couple of pacifist guys who believed in the power of meditation for conflict resolution.

Somewhere in the distance, glass shattered. Taryn continued to look at her computer screen as she kept on typing.

Click here to download the entire book: Susan Mallery’s When We Met>>>

New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery invites you back to Fool’s Gold, where a newcomer to town might finally meet the man she never knew she needed… When We Met
*Bonus* Links to Hundreds of Free Romance Titles!

Like A Little Romance?
Then you’ll love our magical Kindle book search tools that will help you find these great bargains in the Romance category:

And for the next week all of these great reading choices are sponsored by our Brand New Romance of the Week, Susan Mallery’s When We Met, so please check it out!

When We Met (Hqn)

by Susan Mallery

4.7 stars – 135 Reviews
Text-to-Speech: Enabled
Or check out the Audible.com version of When We Met (Hqn)
in its Audible Audio Edition, Unabridged!
Here’s the set-up:

New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery invites you back to Fool’s Gold, where a newcomer to town might finally meet the man she never knew she needed…

Angel Whittaker earned his scars the hard way, but the scars that can’t be seen are the ones that haunt him the most. Since he moved to Fool’s Gold, California, he’s cobbled together a life for himself as a bodyguard trainer. If he’s not exactly happy, at least his heart is safe.

Working with pro-football superstars taught tough-talking PR woman Taryn Crawford one thing—she can go toe-to-toe with any man. But then dark, dangerous former Special Ops Angel targets her for seduction…and challenges her to resist his tempting kisses.

Even in four-inch heels, Taryn never backs down. Unless, somehow, Angel can convince her that surrender might feel even better than victory.

Reviews

“The wildly popular and prolific Mallery can always be counted on to tell an engaging story of modern romance.” –Booklist on Summer Nights

“Susan Mallery is one of my favorites.” –#1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber

“Mallery infuses her story with eccentricity, gentle humor, and smalltown shenanigans, and readers…will enjoy the connection between Heidi and Rafe.” –Publishers Weekly on Summer Days

“An adorable, outspoken heroine and an intense hero…set the sparks flying in Mallery’s latest lively, comic, and touching family-centered story.” –Library Journal on Only Yours

“Romance novels don’t get much better than Mallery’s expert blend of emotional nuance, humor and superb storytelling.” –Booklist

About The Author

New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery has entertained millions of readers with her witty and emotional stories about women. Publishers Weekly calls Susan’s prose “luscious and provocative,” and Booklist says “Novels don’t get much better than Mallery’s expert blend of emotional nuance, humor and superb storytelling.” Susan lives in Seattle with her husband and her tiny but intrepid toy poodle. Visit her at www.SusanMallery.com.

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Sample Before You Buy! Free Contemporary Romance Excerpt Featuring Meg Maguire’s New Release is All or Nothing

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Now we’re back to offer our weekly free Romance excerpt, and if you aren’t among those who have downloaded All or Nothing, you’re in for a real treat:

All or Nothing

by Meg Maguire

Text-to-Speech: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

Disagreements are best settled in the ring—and below the belt…

Round 1
In this corner is Jenna Wilinski, who’s inherited a rather seedy boxing gym from her estranged father. With it, she can realize her dream of launching an upscale matchmaking business…provided she can take on the very intimidating—and wickedly hot—boxer who stands in her way!

Round 2
In the far corner is former pro boxer Mercer Rowley. He’s the only who can protect his “home”—even if it is a little run down—from his determined and feisty little opponent. But once the gloves come off, his hands just want to touch her everywhere…

Round 3
This matchup is too close to call. But no matter which contender comes out on top, the other is sure to enjoy every minute of it….

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  And here, for your reading pleasure, is our free romance excerpt:

 

 5

 

After they finally, successfully separated, Mercer and Jenna had shared an awkward dance, negotiating the bathroom be- fore retiring to their rooms for the night.

Mercer didn’t think he’d gotten that worked up since tenth grade, and he entertained some rather unprofessional fanta- sies about his new roommate-slash-boss-slash-landlady before going to sleep. Still, that was safer than actually implement- ing any of his dick’s many inspired ideas about what to do with the woman.

He woke up confused about the exchange, but resolved to let it go. He’d never wasted much time overthinking a sexual encounter before, and this was the last situation that needed overthinking. She was too many things to him, without also adding “crush” to the list.

He had plenty to worry about already, Delante first and foremost. He’d come under Mercer’s tutelage the way Mer- cer had come under Monty’s—grudgingly, shoved by a des- perate mom at the end of her rope. That had been enough to get Mercer invested in the kid, but it took no time to realize Delante was special. A natural talent who thrived like a dying plant suddenly watered. Add the fact that the kid had a highly marketable projects-to-greatness urban underdog appeal, and

Mercer knew he had something major on his hands.

If he could just keep Delante’s head as focused as his punches, the guy could be signing a pro contract before the crowd had even filed out of the arena following next month’s tournament. It was good for Delante, no doubt. Great for the gym, too—a boost right when they needed one most. Noth- ing fostered new memberships like launching a big name, and the boxers who’d come out of the gym in the eighties were ancient history. MMA was the future. Rich was rising in the ranks, too, a respected semipro with a lot of managers’ eyes on him, but Delante was almost a decade younger, ripe for a long, enviable career.

They met early, and Mercer worked him into the ground, running and dodging commuters up and down the endless Porter Square Station stairs, until a T security guy told them to knock it off. They jogged the four miles through Cambridge and Boston back to Chinatown, greeted by an irksome sight when they finally reached the gym.

“Cool down and hit the showers,” Mercer said, knowing he had to end Delante’s torture earlier than he’d planned. Del- ante hauled his tired ass inside the building and Mercer stared up at the big plastic banner hung over the entryway, almost completely obscuring the gym’s sign.

Future home of Spark: Boston! it proclaimed in a bold, modern font. Your local branch of the Northeast’s most re- spected dating service for busy professionals. Your perfect match is just a heartbeat away! Below were web and email addresses.

Mercer read it three times, frown growing deeper with each pass. The businesses were cohabitating, sure. But it wrenched his guts, because the facts were plain. He had a single sea- son to turn the gym around—the blink of an eye—and if the neighborhood knew the details, they’d no doubt be rooting for him to fail. For all he knew, Jenna was rooting for the same, all the better for her new venture’s image. All the better that she get busy hiding the gym’s very existence.

How easily Mercer had let himself forget what side she stood on the second they’d been tangled on the couch.

He jogged up the steps and into the foyer. The office was lit but locked, and he could see Jenna’s half-finished lunch on the desk. He ran up to the apartment, but she wasn’t there, either. Must have gone out on an errand.

He headed back to the gym, ditching his shoes and think- ing he’d better find somebody down there to spar and work off some of his angst. Angst that felt distinctly like misplaced lust. Felt like way too many things. Feelings. Blergh.

And feelings promptly punched him in the face as he near- literally ran into Jenna heading up the steps.

“Hey,” she said, her smile polite but nervous. Nervous be- cause of the sign or because of them getting to second base on the couch, Mercer couldn’t pinpoint.

“I was just looking for you,” she said. “I was just looking for you.”

“Oh?”

He nodded. “We gotta talk about that sign.”

“I know. I’m sorry—that’s why I was trying to find you. The franchise people came to take a tour of the space. I didn’t know they’d put that up so soon. Or, you know…quite so prominently. I didn’t see it until after the men with the lad- der had gone.”

Mercer sighed, irritation lifting a little. One less emotion. Good. But there were still plenty underneath, all charged with that physical tension from the night before. Except down here…

Down here, Mercer could keep his priorities straight. “That sign’s going to cause a stir with the guys. I haven’t

told anybody the deal yet. But we’ve been needing new equipment for years, and suddenly there’s the money to open an entirely new franchise? You’re not going to make any friends that way.”

She crossed her arms, and God help him, that defiant little gesture had his anger morphing to lust in a heartbeat.

“I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to run a business.” “Two businesses.”

She was kind or smart enough not to add, For now. “I

haven’t forgotten that.”

He glanced at her feet. “Take your shoes off. These mats have enough holes in them already.”

She yanked off her heels. “I know it looks bad. That’s why I apologized. But this place is your territory. Spark is mine.” “I can’t have a bunch of keyed-up fighters questioning the future of this place so soon.” It hurt too much to even know the score himself. “Not with an important tournament com-

ing up.”

“I get it, and I’m sorry. Like I said, I didn’t ask them to put the sign where they did. Maybe we could find a ladder and move it up, so it doesn’t look so…”

“Condemning?”

“Yeah.” She sighed, sounding exhausted. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Yeah, we will. What’s up with you, anyway? You look beat.”

Another loaded breath. “It’s fine. It was just stressful, showing the managers around, not knowing what they’d make of the place. It was approved last month on paper, but who knows what improvements the franchise overseer will de- mand to get it up to Spark standards. Or how much it’ll cost. But they said they like the neighborhood—I hadn’t been sure they would.”

“And the neighbors?” he asked, jerking his head to mean the gym.

She smiled, a tight, apologetic gesture. “I won’t pretend they were giddy about it.”

“No, I’m sure they weren’t.” Suddenly exhausted himself, Mercer cast his gaze around, searching for a change of topic. A distraction from both the conf lict and the attraction that had him so screwed up in the head.

“There’s something I was meaning to show you, next time you were down here.”

“Oh?”

He led her to the back wall. It was plastered with old box- ing posters. Photos of the greats, newspaper and magazine stories about local fighters hung behind Lucite. He tapped an item in the middle and she came close to peer at it. It was a yellowed article from her hometown paper, with a picture of Jenna at age twelve or so, in a bathing cap and suit, holding up a medal for her team’s showing in a county swim meet. He watched her face, her blue eyes widening only to then narrow, lips pursed in a tight line.

“He put that right up there, with all the stories about his favorite fighters,” Mercer offered.

“Yeah. That’s sweet.” She was forcing a pleasant response, but Mercer couldn’t even guess what emotion she was aim- ing for.

He pressed on anyway, compelled as always to defend her dad. “He was really proud of you. Never shut up about you.” “Great. Thanks for showing me that. It’s very touching.” She was so lousy at faking enthusiasm, she almost sounded sarcastic. Mercer felt suddenly diminished,  reduced to a sweaty, weary heap of aching muscles. Maybe it had just

been the wine for her, all along.

“Well. I’ll let you get back to your work.” She nodded. “You too.”

“I’ll get one of the guys to help me with the sign. Hoist it up a couple feet so it’s clear our two ventures are just cohabitating. And I’ll get busy letting everyone know you’re taking over the office and all that, for the dating thing.”

“Thanks. Tell them they’re free to ask me about it. If any- one’s confused or concerned.”

He smiled grimly. “I’ll be first in line.”

Her gaze jumped to the article he’d shown her.

“He was a good guy,” Mercer said. “I’d prove it to you, if you gave me half a chance.”

She chewed on a reply but swallowed it, unspoken. “See you around the apartment.”

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

Jenna began to walk away, taking Mercer’s energy with her. Then she turned, and a little glimmer of her sweet self broke through the crust. “If you like frittata, I can make enough for two tonight.”

He warmed at the offer, so tempted to toss a teasing re- mark back and remind her what happened the last time they’d shared a meal. “I’m not sure what that is. But if it’s food, then yeah, that’d be real nice.”

“Seven-thirty?”

“I’m leading a session at seven, but make it eight-fifteen and it’s a date, Miss Matchmaker.”

Finally, she smiled. And just like that, he was screwed. Two seconds’ flirting and he wanted her again, worse than ever.

Shit. He better schedule himself a sadistic workout for the late afternoon. Better haul his body up those steps too tired to chew, let alone to muster the energy to mess around. Because near-high-school dropout or not, Mercer was smart enough to know that if Jenna couldn’t manage to keep them strictly platonic tonight…he didn’t stand a chance in hell.

When Mercer  entered  the apartment just after eight, Jenna stood a little straighter behind the counter, chopping peppers, steeling herself.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself, roommate.”

He looked dead tired. Maybe just the by-product of a long, physical workday, or maybe he felt as beat-down as she did, following the unfortunate misunderstanding with the sign. On top of that, she’d spent almost the entire day in the office, and no less than twenty gym members had interrupted to express their condolences, most of them then regaling her with legend- ary tales of her larger-than-life father. Thoughtful gestures, though each one she smiled through had only reminded her how close he’d been to these strangers, to everyone but her. She felt as tired as Mercer looked.

After disappearing into his room with his gym bag, Mercer came to loiter on the opposite side of the counter. He eyed the bowl of egg mixture. “What’s this called again?”

“Frittata. Not quite an omelet, not quite a quiche.”

“I’m not entirely sure what a quiche is. So, how was your day?”

“Long. Spent most of it getting pummeled with all the stuff the franchise overseers are going to be sweeping through to do in the next couple months.”

“Nothing like a good pummeling. What sort of stuff?” “They’re sending a bunch of people tomorrow, a design

team to drop off the upholstery swatches and paint chips I’m allowed to choose from when I decorate my office. And some last-minute inspection stuff, technicalities before the space gets official approval.”

“You need me to clean the gym’s clutter out of there?” “Not immediately, but soon.” Jenna turned back to the cut-

ting board. “How was your day, aside from that unpleasant surprise? Thanks for moving the sign, by the way.”

“No problem. And my day was long.” “How were your stairs?”

“Also long.” He leaned his forearms on the counter, watching her busy hands. “But whatever keeps the kid too beat to worry about bullshit back home, or worse. Girls.”

“Right. No greater threat to you mercenary types than we ladies.”

Mercer smirked.

As Jenna sliced mushrooms, she mustered the courage to say, “Speaking of the danger of women… The dangers of sex and romance, that is.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m issuing us a mutual restraining order tonight.”

He laughed, and though he was clearly confused, it was nice to see him really smiling again. “Pardon?”

“I think we should stay separated by at least four feet at all times. For our own good.” Though even as she said it, she felt heat blooming in her body, felt her resolve turning soft and lazy.

Mercer seemed to consider the proposal, standing up straight and measuring the counter with his gaze. He took a step back. “About like that?”

“Yes. It just seems safer. Well, maybe safe’s not the word— less complicated.”

“So, that means you still like me, even when you’re not drunk?” A different smile, one Jenna enjoyed far too much. “I was not drunk. And don’t flirt with me. That’s off-limits

as well. I don’t know what exactly’s going on with us, attraction- wise. But no need to make it worse. No passing by each other in small spaces, no suggestive remarks…”

“No assaulting me with the sink sprayer?”

“Sadly, no. None of that stuff.” She sighed, knowing that f lirting their way around this topic wasn’t going to do a lick of good. “I don’t…I don’t trust myself around you, and we’re the last two people who need to get confused about who we are to each other.”

“You feel confused about last night? I thought it was pretty straightforward.”

She made an exasperated noise. “I’m trying to be serious for a second. That’s yet another reason to be careful around each other until you move out. I don’t work the way I suspect you do, with sex. It’s very…complicated.”

“Doesn’t have to be.”

She shot him a stern look, then went back to chopping. “I’m a pretty stereotypical woman when it comes to sex. It changes everything, emotionally, whether I want it to or not. You seem like a stereotypical man about it. If we did it— which we won’t—”

“Noted.”

“—you’d probably feel the same way about me the next day.”

“And as a stereotypical woman you’d find that infuriating.” “Likely. Hence the restraining order.”

Mercer crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “You’re right. You’d definitely feel different about me the next day. I’m even better at sex than I am at kissing.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Sorry. I’ll quit it.” He paused a moment before going on. “And I’m with you, incidentally. I think us messing around is a lousy idea, too. It’s just fun winding you up.”

Though she forced herself to nod and say, “I’m glad we’re on the same page,” Jenna felt a pang to hear Mercer agree. She knew in her head that made no sense, but a tiny, illogi- cal part of her couldn’t help but think, How can it be terrible, when it feels so wonderful?

They ate on the couch, the empty cushion between them taunting. So far, yet so close. Jenna found a news special on TV covering a very bloody civil war. If that couldn’t kill the restlessness warming her body, nothing would. Sadly, she caught herself glancing Mercer’s way every minute or two, remembering everything that had happened on that end of the couch, twenty-four hours earlier. Clearly, her attraction was more potent than violent overseas unrest.

Mercer had gone quiet, and stayed that way through the meal. He was rattled, and from what, she couldn’t be sure. By her fessing up to the fact that there was no such thing as strings-free sex to her? Surely that would give a man like Mercer much-needed pause. Or perhaps from the simple fact that his entire life had been turned upside down in the past four days. By her. Also a distinct possibility, and an ugly one. Guilt soured Jenna’s stomach.

When dinner was done Mercer took her plate, and Jenna honored their restraining order and let him do the dishes alone. Though she did steal a couple glances at his shoulders as he worked, those swells of muscle highlighted by the kitchen’s overhead bulbs. Oops.

She changed into lounge pants and a T-shirt and cardigan and got cozy on her end of the couch. There was a pre-grand- opening client recruitment party to organize for mid-September, and now was the perfect time to fill her head with lists. Get her mind off the man sharing her home.

When Mercer finished cleaning the kitchen, he eyed her for a moment before announcing, “I’m gonna head downstairs for a little while.”

“If I don’t see you before I go to bed, good night.”

He nodded, filled a water bottle from the sink and left, dead bolt snapping behind him. Jenna released a held breath.

She should have gone to bed at ten. By eleven, surely. Yet when quarter to midnight rolled around, she was still watching TV, barely taking in the program. She wasn’t preoccupied by party to-dos, either. Her list was exactly one item long. Hire assistant. No, it was still Mercer, keeping her distracted, her feelings for him pacing low in her belly, a restless, reckless awareness.

But at twelve-thirty, curiosity became concern. Mercer’s “little while” was now pushing three hours, and the gym was long closed for the night.

She grabbed her keys, slid into f lip-f lops and went down to the first f loor. The office was dark, but the stairs to the gym were lit.

She heard Mercer before she saw him, the thump of his fist and the hiss of his sharp breaths. The space felt huge in the darkness, its smell mysterious, heady and foreign as a jungle.

Only the lights illuminating the row of heavy bags along one wall were switched on. Mercer was dressed in shorts, barefoot and shirtless, gloves on his hands. The bulbs cast him in harsh, dramatic shadows, his shoulders shining with sweat. The bag was suspended from the ceiling by a thick chain, and it jangled with every kick and punch, every knee and elbow he whacked it with. He danced from foot to foot, lost in his own world, in his imaginary battle.

Jenna’s legs went wobbly, heat pooling in traitorous places. This man didn’t waste any of the physical gifts humans were born with, every muscle honed and disciplined and punished, day after day, until he made violence look like art. That this workout was likely inspired by the angst she’d roused in him dampened her pleasure.

After another minute’s assault, Mercer paused to grab a bottle of water from the mat beside him. Jenna approached.

When he set the bottle down, she caught his eye and he started. “Jesus, don’t sneak up on me when I’m wearing these.” He held up his gloved hands.

“Sorry. What are you doing?” “What’s it look like?”

“If I had to guess, you’re working off how annoyed you must be at me.”

He blinked, looking more startled than when he’d spot- ted her.

“We can talk about it, if you want. But maybe this is how you prefer to—”

“I’m not angry at you.” He looked troubled. “I’m definitely not down here wailing on something because I wish I could wail on you.”

“No, I didn’t think that.

“I’m trying to wear myself out.” “Oh. Okay.”

Three times he opened his mouth, poised to say something, only to close it again.

“What?”

He shook his head. “It’ll sound like flirting and you’ll chew me out again, so forget it.”

“No, what?”

He huffed a breath through his nose. “I’m down here wearing myself out, so the second I put my head on the pillow I’ll be unconscious. ’Cause if I don’t, my brain’s gonna be full of thoughts that probably violate some mental restraining order you didn’t tell me about.”

Jenna’s turn to start. For a split second her mind supplied a vision of such a thing, of Mercer succumbing to fantasies about whatever inappropriate things he felt she was denying them. She shoved the image away. His body was dangerous and distracting enough, here in reality. No good could come of hypothesizing about the few bits of him she’d yet to lay her eyes—or hands—on.

With a huff, Mercer sat cross-legged on the mat. He ripped the Velcro straps from his wrists and tugged off his gloves. His hands were wrapped in white tape, and he ran them over his head, blowing out a heavy breath.

Jenna sat a few paces away, hugging her knees. “Maybe I should just move out now,” Mercer said. “To where?”

“I dunno. Sublet somewhere, cash in a favor and crash on somebody’s couch till I find a place I can afford. It was nice of you to let me stay, but that was before we knew we’re…”

“Allergic to each other?” It earned her a grudging smile. “I know you think this is simple for me,” he said. “Like I

think sex is as incidental as a movie we might watch together. I wish it was. But you’re my mentor’s daughter. And the woman who turned up here prepared to end my life as I know it.”

Unsure what to say to that, she kept her mouth shut.

“I dunno what the hell to make of you, Jenna. My body has plans for yours—plans I can usually take or leave, because sex doesn’t come first for me, believe it or not. My responsi- bilities do, and you’re the worst possible woman I could let myself get distracted by.”

“I’m sure.” She was spacey, lost in what he’d said about his body having plans for hers. She felt strangely honored to be singled out, maybe targeted, curious beyond belief.

“What I joked with you about in the kitchen was bullshit. This isn’t simple to me at all.”

Not sure how to process what he was telling her, she looked to his legs, to the red smear streaked along one shin. “You’re bleeding.”

He glanced down. “Oh, right. I’ve got no feeling left there anymore. No decent kickboxer does.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re the strangest man I’ve ever met. Why don’t you come upstairs and get cleaned up?”

A monstrous sigh. “Yeah, fine. I can barely move now, so my work here’s probably done.”

Jenna stood and offered him a hand. He clasped it in his wrapped one and she helped haul him to his feet. The cotton tape felt exotic against her palm, his hand big and scarred and fascinating as always. Allergic indeed.

She was ready to take her hand back, but he held it in his grip, his eyes on hers. “Why’d you come down here, anyway?”

“To see if you were okay.”

“I really seemed like that much of a mess?” She nodded.

“Better work on my game face.”

He dropped his gaze and her hand, then wandered to grab his water bottle and shirt, slipped flip-flops on his feet. She tried and failed to keep her eyes off his bare chest and stomach and arms, that body looking as reckless as the urges it inspired in her. But they were in firm agreement on one fact—hooking up was a terrible idea. It nearly disappointed her. If Mercer had kept that door open on his end, she just might have let herself be yanked inside.

He hit the lights and locked up, and they trudged up the two f lights and down the hall to the apartment.

She shut the door behind them and it felt as if something ought to be said. An apology tendered, or even a joke to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

“That’s a really nerdy sweater,” Mercer said.

She laughed, relieved by his levity but pretending offense. She looked down at her argyle cardigan. “It’s librarian chic.” Neither spoke for a moment, though she knew he was strug- gling for the next quip, same as her. Words came, but not ones

she’d expected.

“I don’t want you to move out. I mean, I don’t want you to feel like you have to move out sooner than we’d discussed.”

“It might make everything simpler.”

“It might. But I’m already turning your life upside down by even being here. You’re acting a lot more civil about us coexisting than most people would, knowing what could hap- pen come January. If letting you live here makes the transi- tion easier, it’s the least I can do.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

She sighed, staring at their feet, if only to keep her eyes off the more arousing bits of Mercer. Even with her gaze preoccupied, his scent was all around her, heady and exciting, as thrilling as a physical touch.

“This is going to be complicated, no matter what we do,” he murmured. “No matter if I stay or go, or whatever rules we invent to keep from sexually assaulting each other, or how hard we try to rationalize everything.”

She nodded.

“So it can’t actually get much worse.” “Not that I can foresee,” she said. “Right.”

She sensed it as he stood a little straighter, and she raised her chin to scan his face. He still looked beat, but there was a glimmer of resolution. He’d made peace with their situation.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” She started. “Excuse me?”

“Things between us can’t get any worse, so I’m gonna go ahead and make a move on you. Only way I’ll be able to get any sleep tonight.”

“Don’t do that.” Do it. Do it.

He put his wrapped hand to her jaw, leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. He kept it slow to start, giving Jenna a chance to protest, a chance to cling to her charade of propriety.

No way in hell.

She kissed him back, tasting salt on his lips—the f lavor of a man who’d spent the past few hours trying to beat the de- sire out of his body. Desire for her. His tongue brushed hers and she grabbed his arm, thrilling anew at its hardness, its size. He kissed her until soft moans hummed from his throat, until he’d backed her against the door and her palms had slid south, from his chest to his stomach to his hips. Next and final stop—Bad Decisionville.

He broke away, taking a step back. The look in his eyes was wild and his tongue traced the corner of his lips. He began unwinding the tape from his hands, exciting as a striptease. Jenna held her breath until he spoke.

“I’m gonna take a shower. That gives you ten minutes to change your mind about where this is heading. If you come to your senses, shut your bedroom door. If you’re as stupid as me, leave it open, and we’ll find out what the hell else is supposed to happen between us.”

Click here to download the entire book: Meg Maguire’s All or Nothing>>>

 

Disagreements are best settled in the ring—and below the belt. But this matchup is too close to call… Meg Maguire’s New Release is All or Nothing
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All or Nothing

by Meg Maguire

Text-to-Speech: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

Disagreements are best settled in the ring—and below the belt…

Round 1
In this corner is Jenna Wilinski, who’s inherited a rather seedy boxing gym from her estranged father. With it, she can realize her dream of launching an upscale matchmaking business…provided she can take on the very intimidating—and wickedly hot—boxer who stands in her way!

Round 2
In the far corner is former pro boxer Mercer Rowley. He’s the only who can protect his “home”—even if it is a little run down—from his determined and feisty little opponent. But once the gloves come off, his hands just want to touch her everywhere…

Round 3
This matchup is too close to call. But no matter which contender comes out on top, the other is sure to enjoy every minute of it….

Previously published as Making Him Sweat

Don’t Miss These Hot Titles From Meg Maguire:

Takedown

by Meg Maguire

Here’s the set-up:

Winning is good. Succumbing is even better…

Evasion
Recently retired pro MMA fighter Steph Healy is through having rough-and-tumble romps with sexy blue-collar dudes. Unfortunately, Wilinski Gym has hired an electrician with a body built to make a gal weep. And avoiding some full-body contact is taking all of Steph’s self-control…

*  *  *

Here’s the set-up:

Rules of the Ring…

No Unsportsmanlike Conduct
Lindsey Tuttle always thought Rich Estrada was a whole lot of sexy. What’s not to lust after? He’s a gorgeous mixed martial arts fighter. When they find themselves heating up during an unexpected—and superintense—make-out session, Lindsey is ready…until Rich ends it with no explanation…

About The Author

Meg Maguire wrote her first romance in 2008, when the movies playing in her head began demanding an outlet. While she waited to hear back from Harlequin about what would eventually be her first Blaze book, she managed to write and sell a romance to Samhain, as well as a slew of erotic stories under the pen name Cara McKenna. She loves writing sexy, character-driven stories about strong-willed men and women who keep each other on their toes, and bring one another to their knees.

Before becoming a purveyor of red-hot romance and smart erotica, Meg was a record store bitch, a lousy barista, a decent designer, and an over-enthusiastic penguin handler.

Meg now writes full-time and lives north of Boston with her bearded husband. When she’s not trapped in her own head she can usually be found in the kitchen, the coffee shop, or jogging around the nearest duck-filled pond.

*  *  *

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