The Valentine’s Day Disaster (11 page)
Read The Valentine’s Day Disaster Online
Authors: Lori Wilde
Her jaw dropped. “What do you mean? I’ve lived in the city for twelve years, almost half my life.”
“Ms. Spencer, Melody . . .”
Goose bumps spread over her arm. The left muscle in her eye jumped, a tic she got whenever she was super stressed. This couldn’t be happening. “What are you saying?”
“Not to sound like Donald Trump or anything, but you’re fired.”
Stunned, she stood there, mouth open. She caught sight of Michael’s desk calendar Tuesday, April 1. April Fool’s Day. Relief washed over her.
“Oh, very funny, sir.” She smiled circumspectly, hiding that defective tooth. “You almost had me going there.”
He glowered. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve got to hand it to you. It’s the best April Fool’s joke anyone has ever played on me.”
Slowly, he shook his head. “This is not a joke.”
The dread was back and heavier than ever. Oh shit. “This isn’t a prank?”
“No.”
“Are you sure Ashton Kutcher isn’t going to jump out of the closet and declare I’ve been punked?” she asked hopefully, even as she knew she was well and truly sunk.
No joke. He was serious. She’d been fired.
Her boss held out his palm. “Please hand me your identification badge.”
Pressing her lips into a straight line, she fumbled with the ID badge clipped to her lapel. She could barely see through the mist of tears welling up in her eyes, but she refused to let him see her cry. She swallowed the saltiness, blinked hard, and passed her badge to him.
Michael took her ID that represented her entire sense of self, stared at someone over her shoulder, and nodded.
She turned and for the first time saw the two security guards standing in the doorway behind her.
“They’ll take you to your desk to collect your things,” Michael intoned. “After that, they’ll escort you from the building. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t cause a scene.”
LORI WILDE is the
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author of more than seventy works of romantic fiction. She is a two-time RITA® award nominee, a four-time
Romantic Times
Reviewers’ Choice nominee, and has won numerous other awards. She earned a bachelor’s degree in nursing from Texas Christian University and holds a certificate in nursing forensics. An animal lover, Lori is owned by several pets, and lives in Texas with her husband, Bill.
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The Christmas Cookie Collection
The Sweethearts’ Knitting Club
Available from Avon Impulse
T
HE
C
HRISTMAS
C
OOKI
E
C
HRONICLES:
Give in to your impulses . . .
Read on for a sneak peek at four brand-new
e-book original tales of romance from Avon Books.
Available now wherever e-books are sold.
A
S
COUNDRELS OF
S
T.
J
AMES
N
OVELLA
By Lorraine Heath
A
L
O
VE AND
F
OOTBALL
N
OVE
L
By Julie Brannagh
A
B
ILLIONAIRE
B
AC
HELORS
C
LUB
N
OVEL
By Monica Murphy
A
T
RUST
N
O
O
NE
N
OVEL
By Dixie Lee Brown
An Excerpt from
A Scoundrels of St. James Novella
by Lorraine Heath
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author Lorraine Heath brings us the eagerly awaited final story in the Scoundrels of St. James series.
Winnie, the Duchess of Avendale, never knew peace until her brutal husband died. With William Graves, a royal physician, she’s discovered burning desire—and the healing power of love. But now, confronted by the past she thought she’d left behind, Winnie must face her fears . . . or risk losing the one man who can fulfill all her dreams.
A
fter last night, she’d dared to hope that she meant something special to him, but they were so very different in rank and purpose. She considered suggesting that they go for a walk now, but she didn’t want to move away from where she was. So near to him. He smelled of sandalwood. His jaw and cheeks were smooth. He’d shaved before he came to see her. His hair curled wildly about his head, and she wondered if he ever tried to tame it, then decided he wouldn’t look like himself without the wildness.
With his thumb, he stroked her lower lip. His blue eyes darkened. She watched the muscles of his throat work as he swallowed. Leaning in, he lowered his mouth to hers. She rose up on her toes to meet him, inviting him to possess, plunder, have his way. She became lost in the sensations of his mouth playing over hers, vaguely aware of his twisting her around so they were facing each other. As she skimmed her hands up over his shoulders, his arms came around her, drawing her nearer. He was a man of nimble fingers, skilled hands that eased hurts and injuries and warded off death. He had mended her with those hands, and now with his lips he was mending her further.
Suddenly changing the angle of his mouth, he deepened the kiss, his tongue hungrily exploring, enticing her to take her own journey of discovery. He tasted of peppermint. She could well imagine him keeping the hard candies in his pocket to hand to children in order to ease their fears. Snitching one for himself every now and then.
He folded his hands around the sides of her waist and, without breaking his mouth from hers, lifted her onto the desk. Parchment crackled beneath her. She knew she should be worried that they were ruining the plans for the hospital, but she seemed unable to care about anything beyond the wondrous sensations that he was bringing to life.
Avendale had never kissed her with such enthusiasm, such resolve. She felt as though William were determined to devour her, and that it would be one of the most wondrous experiences of her life.
Hiking her skirts up over her knees, he wedged himself between her thighs. Very slowly, he lowered her back to the desk until she was sprawled over it like some wanton. On the desk! She had never known this sort of activity could occur anywhere other than the bed. It was wicked, exciting, intriguing. Surely he didn’t mean to do more than kiss her, not that she was opposed to him going further.
She’d gone so long without a caress, without being desired, without having passions stirred. She felt at once terrified and joyful while pleasure curled through her.
As he dragged his mouth along her throat, he began undoing buttons, giving himself access to more skin. He nipped at her collarbone, circled his tongue in the hollow at her throat. She plowed her fingers through his golden locks, relishing the soft curls as they wound around her fingers.
More buttons were unfastened. She sighed as he trailed his mouth and tongue along the upper swells of her breasts. Heat pooled deep within her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, taking surcease from the pressure of him against her. He moaned low, more a growl than anything as he pressed a kiss in the dip between her breasts.
God help her, but she wanted to feel his touch over all of her.
Peeling back her bodice, he began loosening the ribbons on her chemise. In the distance, someplace far far away, she thought she heard a door open.
“The count—” Her butler began and stopped.
“Winnie?” Catherine’s voice brought her crashing back to reality.
An Excerpt from
A Love and Football Novel
by Julie Brannagh
All’s fair in Love and Football . . .
Emily Hamilton doesn’t trust men. She’s much more comfortable playing the romantic lead in front of a packed house onstage than in her own life. So when NFL star and alluring ladies’ man Brandon McKenna acts as her personal white knight, she has no illusions that he’ll stick around. However, a misunderstanding with the press throws them together in a fake engagement that yields unexpected (and breathtaking) benefits in the first installment of Julie Brannagh’s irresistible new series.
E
mily had barely enough time to hang up the cordless and flip on the TV before Brandon wandered down the stairs.
“Hey,” he said, and he threw himself down on the couch next to her.
His blond curls were tangled, his eyes sleepy, and she saw a pillowcase crease on his cheek. He looked completely innocent, until she saw the wicked twinkle in his eyes. Even in dirty workout clothes, he was breathtaking. She wondered if it was possible to ovulate on demand.
“I’m guessing you took a nap,” she said.
“I was supposed to be watching you.” He tried to look penitent. It wasn’t working.
“Glad to know you’re making yourself comfortable,” she teased.
He stretched his arm around the back of the couch.
“Everything in your room smells like flowers, and your bed’s great.” He pulled up the edge of his t-shirt and sniffed it. Emily almost drooled at a glimpse of his rock-hard abdomen. Evidently, it was possible to have more than a six pack. “The guys will love my new perfume. Maybe they’ll want some makeup tips,” he muttered, and grabbed for the remote Emily left on the coffee table.
He clicked through the channels at a rapid pace.
“Excuse me. I had that.” She lunged for it. No such luck. Emily ended up sprawled across his lap.
“The operative word here, sugar, is ‘had.’ ” He held it up in the air out of her reach while he continued to click. He’d wear a hole in his thumb if he kept this up. “No NFL Network.” She tried to sit up again, which wasn’t working well. Of course, he was chuckling at her struggles. “Oh, I get it. You’re heading for second base.”
“Hardly.” Emily reached over and tried to push off on the other arm of the couch. One beefy arm wrapped around her. “I’m not trying to do anything. Oh, whatever.”
“You know, if you want a kiss, all you have to do is ask.”
She couldn’t imagine how he managed to look so innocent while smirking.
“I haven’t had a woman throw herself in my lap for a while now. This could be interesting,” he said.
Emily’s eyebrows shot to her hairline. “I did not throw myself in your lap.”
“Could’ve fooled me. Which one of us is—”
“Let go of me.” She was still trying to grab the remote, without success.
“You’ll fall,” he warned.
“What’s your point?”
“Here.” He stuck the remote down the side of the couch cushion so Emily couldn’t grab it. He grasped her upper arms, righted her with no effort at all, and looked into her eyes. “All better. Shouldn’t you be resting, anyway?”
Emily tried to take a breath. Their bodies were frozen. He held her, and she gazed into his face. His dimple appeared, vanished, appeared again. She licked her lips with the microscopic amount of moisture left in her mouth. He was fighting a smile, but even more, he dipped his head toward her. He was going to kiss her.
“Yes,” she said.
Her voice sounded weak, but it was all she could do to push it out of lungs that had no air at all. He continued to watch her, and he gradually moved closer. Their mouths were inches apart. Emily couldn’t stop looking at his lips. After a few moments that seemed like an eternity, he released her and dug the remote from the couch cushion. She felt a stab of disappointment. He had changed his mind.
“Turns out you have the NFL Network, so I think I can handle another twenty-four hours here,” he announced as he stopped on a channel she’d never seen before.
“You might not be here another twenty-four minutes. Don’t you have a TV at home?” She wrapped her arms around her midsection. She wished she could come up with something more witty and cutting to say. She was so sure he would kiss her, and then he hadn’t.
An Excerpt from
A Billionaire Bachelors Club Novel
by Monica Murphy
New York Times
bestselling author Monica Murphy concludes her sexy Billionaire Bachelors Club series with a fiery romance that refuses to be left at the office.
Bryn James can’t take much more of being invisible to her smart, sexy boss, Matthew DeLuca. Matt’s never been immune to his gorgeous assistant’s charms, and though he’s tried to stay professional, Bryn—with a jaw-dropping new look—is suddenly making it very difficult. And when the lines between business and pleasure become blurred, he’ll be faced with the biggest risk of his career—and his heart.
Bryn
“I shouldn’t do this.” He’s coming right at me, one determined step after another, and I slowly start to back up, fear and excitement bubbling up inside me, making it hard to think clearly.
“Shouldn’t do what?”
I lift my chin, my gaze meeting his, and I see all the turbulent, confusing emotions in his eyes, the grim set of his jaw and usually lush mouth. The man means business—what sort of business I’m not exactly sure, but I can take a guess. Increasing my pace, I take hurried backward steps to get away from all that handsome intensity coming at me until my butt meets the wall.
I’m trapped. And in the best possible place too.
“You’ve been driving me fucking crazy all night,” he practically growls, stopping just in front of me.
I have
? I want to ask, but I keep my lips clamped tight. He never seems to notice me, not that I ever really want him to. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself. That sort of thing usually brings too much unwanted attention. I’ve dealt with that sort of trouble before, and it nearly destroyed me.
The more time I spend with my boss though, the more I want him to see me. Really see me as a woman. Not the dependable, efficiently organized Miss James who makes his life so much easier.
I want Matt to see me as a woman. A woman he wants.
Playing with fire. . .
The thought floating through my brain is apt, considering the potent heat in Matt’s gaze.
“I don’t understand how I could be, considering I’ve done nothing but work my tail off the entire evening,” I retort, wincing the moment the words leave me. I blame my mounting frustration over our situation. I’m tired, I’ve done nothing but live and breathe this winery opening for the last few weeks, and I’m ready to go home and crawl into bed. Pull the covers over my head and sleep for a month.
But if a certain someone wanted to join me in my bed, there wouldn’t be any sleeping involved. Just plenty of nakedness and kissing and hot, delicious sex . . .
My entire body flushes at the thought.
“And I appreciate you working that pretty tail of yours off for me. Though I’d hate to see it go,” he drawls, his gaze dropping low. Like he’s actually trying to check out my backside. His flirtatious tone shocks me, rendering me still.
Our relationship isn’t like this. Strictly professional is how Matt and I keep it between us. But that last remark was most definitely what I would consider flirting. And the way he’s looking at me . . .
Oh. My.
My cheeks warm when he stops directly in front of me. I can feel his body heat, smell his intoxicating scent, and I press my lips together to keep from saying something really stupid.
God, I want you. So bad my entire body aches for your touch.
Yeah. I sound like those romance novels I used to devour when I had more time to freaking read. I always thought those emotions were so exaggerated. No way could what happens in a romance novel actually occur in real life.
But I’m feeling it. Right now. With Matthew DeLuca. And the way he’s looking at me almost makes me think he might be feeling it too.
“So um, h-how have I been driving you crazy?” I swallow hard. I sound like a stuttering idiot, and I’m trying to calm my racing heart but it’s no use. We’re staring at each other in silence, the only sound our accelerated breathing, and then he reaches out. Rests his fingers against my cheek. Lets them drift along my face.
Slowly I close my eyes and part my lips, sharp pleasure piercing through me at his intimate touch. I curl my fingers against the wall as if I can grab onto it, afraid I might slide to the ground if I don’t get a grip and soon. I can smell him. Feel him. We’ve been close to each other before, but not like this. Never like this.
An Excerpt from
A Trust No One Novel
by Dixie Lee Brown
Beautiful and deadly, Rayna Dugan is a force to be reckoned with. But when she must suddenly defend her life against a criminal empire, Rayna knows she needs backup. Ex-cop Ty Whitlock never meant for his former flame to get mixed up in this mess—a mess he feels responsible for. Now he’s got only one choice: find Rayna and keep her safe. But that’s the easy part. Once he finds her, can he convince her to stay?