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BOOK: Advertising for Love

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It wasn’t exactly an apology, but she knew his heart. “I’m a black woman living in the South. It’s not like I wasn’t going to encounter something like it at some point.”

“I should have done better by you. I should have—”

Resigned, she said, “I was willing to put up with the stares to be with you, Priest. Whatever ignorant people were going to throw our way, I thought we’d be able to handle together. When you started hanging around me, I figured you felt the same.”

Gray eyes flashed in the dim lighting, his gaze fixed on her. “I did.” He took a step forward. “I do.”

It was a long time ago, and what was done was done. A grown woman now, she no longer needed to rely on his strength to prove to herself she was worthy of love. Since then, she’d realized her self-worth didn’t hinge on one person’s behavior. But he was tainted in her mind. It pained her to think he could still be the same person from back then.

“I want to show you something,” he said. The starched chef’s jacket he’d donned for the competition slipped from his shoulders after he unloosed the long line of buttons at the front. “Have you ever really looked at my tattoos?” he asked as he folded it. His bare hand swiped a box top. The jacket was set there once he seemed to consider the surface clean enough.

She swallowed past a drying throat. Damn, he looked good in the sleeveless tee. Way good. The muscles of his arms flexed beneath the light, corded muscles almost shining in their beauty. The miserable lighting somehow managed to accentuate the sleeves of tats she regarded now. “No. Never had the chance.”

“Every one of these tattoos is here because of its significance in my life. Every one chosen with care. If you’re not really looking, it seems like they’re just a bunch of jumbled images, but those who look closely know better.” Static charged the air. “Come here and let me show you.”

“You don’t have to do this,” she muttered. What was going on with her heart? It beat so fast, as if it would race its way out of her chest at any moment.

“Look at this one.”

A smile curved her mouth.
CIA
. “We graduated high school together, but you still managed to graduate the Culinary Institute of America two years after me.”

“Good,” he said with a note of approval. “Everyone sees those letters and thinks clandestine service. I wanted to commemorate the schooling that’s brought me an incredible career and life. And this here? This slice of lemon meringue pie earned me a lot of ribbing over the years, but it’s the first dessert I finally mastered. My grandmother’s recipe.”

Pep smiled. “That’s very sweet.”

Priest lifted his left arm away from his body, turning the inside toward her. “Now look at this one. I had it placed exactly there so it would be pretty close to my heart.”

As she studied the swirling design, realization of what faced her sank in. Pepper’s breath caught, and she looked up at him sharply. “Priest?”

“I’ve never stopped thinking about you, Pepper. What we could have been. What we could be…”

She couldn’t keep her trembling fingers from tracing over the small gray container at the center of the swirl. It had a stylized
P
centered on its surface, but if that wasn’t enough to make someone recognize a pepper shaker, more had been done to the tattoo. Next to it, a small orange misshapen habanero had a vine interwoven with the stem of something that looked suspiciously like a jalapeno. Three different peppers.

“Give me a chance, sweetheart. I won’t let you down this time. Promise.” She couldn’t stop touching it. Couldn’t stop tracing over the vivid colors. “If it wasn’t for you, I probably wouldn’t be the person I am today. It changed me. You changed me. I never took the time to tell you, but I’m telling you now.”

Advertising for Love

Elisabeth Roseland

In the kitchen, in a tux—and out of it—he’s got the skills to crank up the heat.

Ebony Nights, Book 1

When Aisha Anderson hires a professional escort for her company’s gala, it’s not because she can’t get a date. Her fast-track career at Hansen Advertising doesn’t give her the time—and it’s the only way to avoid dancing with her creepy, inappropriate co-worker.

To her delight, Greg Williams plays the role of charming, attentive gentleman so well, she could almost believe the sparks between them are real. When he takes her home and demonstrates—with considerable sexual skill—that the heat is not her imagination, she can’t say no to his request for her number in lieu of payment.

Their hot night continues into a warm breakfast at Greg’s favorite back-street diner, where Aisha feels something she hasn’t felt for a long time. Part of a couple.

Later, though, when she runs into a former client of his who seems eager to compare notes on his erotic bag of tricks, the sizzle begins to cool in shadows of doubt. Long-term could be a stretch for a man who’s dated half the women in Chicago.

Especially when there’s the possibility that demand for his services could take him away right when she needs him most…

Warning: This book contains a sexy black man with mad culinary skills, an ad exec with a hunger for something well-cut and lean, and an escort service that knows how to satisfy every woman’s appetites.

eBooks are
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They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

Cincinnati OH 45249

Advertising for Love

ISBN: 978-1-61921-372-2

Edited by Christa Desir

Cover by Angela Waters

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: December 2012

www.samhainpublishing.com