“Of course you owe me a tremendous debt for interrupting my all-important career in crime-fighting to travel here and play TV decorator sidekick,” he said.
“I’ll make it up to you,” she said.
“How is that?” his devilish grin told her he had something in mind.
“I’ll decorate your home for you.” Pixie held her breath and waited for his disappointment.
“It’s a deal. On one condition.” He went back to his unreadable self and she of course didn’t know what to think because he didn’t want her to know what to think. Would she ever get used to that? She only knew she wanted a chance to try. Her insides went back to seething.
“What’s your condition?” she hiccupped. Darn.
His expression softened. “If I let you decorate my home, then you’ll have to promise to live in it with me.”
Now she was astonished to see the raw tension line his face with undisguised need and—if she could believe her eyes and her heart—maybe even love. She gulped.
“I feel like Cinderella.” She shared her first thought uncensored, then felt a flush and quickly added, “Only a much more hip and independent version.”
He barked a laugh and pulled her in for a voracious kiss that screamed ownership and adoration. She wasn’t sure who owned whom, but she knew she adored him and could feel his love with each plunge of his tongue and sting of his teeth. He owned her mouth. She gladly gave it all to him.
He took a deep ragged breath after she felt drugged into senselessness by the onslaught, her pulse raging. There may have been some extra hormones floating around pulling at her senses too. Her entire body tingled on the edge of anticipation of his touch.
“I take it you agree then?” he asked again.
“Yes.” It came out in a sigh. She raised her hands to his face and caressed his jaw. Bringing his mouth close to hers, she breathed in his breath. Before she caused herself to swoon, she spoke, purposely lowering her voice to a more dignified pitch. “I adore you, Chauncey Miller. I would go to the ends of the earth with you. I feel like I have. And now it doesn’t feel right anywhere without you.”
The starry silent emotion in his eyes was all the answer she would get—that and the heartfelt embrace as he kissed her hair, her eyes, her cheeks, her neck, all the while murmuring her name. “My Pixie…”
A Note to Readers
Dear Reader,
Thank you for taking the journey with me through the story of Pixie and Chauncey. I sincerely hope you enjoyed your moments of escape into their world. I would love to hear any comments you have. I invite you to contact me via my website www.StephanieQueen.com. You can also follow me on Twitter @StephanieQueen or on Facebook on my Stephanie Queen page.
If you loved the story, please consider leaving a review on the site where you purchased this book. I would very much appreciate it.
In the meantime, I’ll be working hard to bring you more stories from my heart, featuring characters you’ll love.
Sincerely,
Stephanie Queen
About the Author
Once upon a time, there was a young storyteller in the kingdom…er, queendom. Then she grew up and… well, no… she never actually did grow up. That’s not to say she didn’t get old, or more old, but not terribly old, more like middle-aged really. Okay, so she was no longer short and cute.
But really, I always did like to make up stories. Still do. Still live in my own little world—where I’m Queen. Of the Queendom. Hence, the name. (Or whence the name?) Oh, what’s in a name anyway.
About me. I love cats. I have a girl cat, a princess technically. Named Kitty. No, I’m serious. Long story. No, I don’t have time. Or space.
Okay, so I do not have the inclination.
More about me. I spend hours, days, weeks, months (you get the picture) sitting at my desk, looking out the window of my castle/bedroom and writing complete fabrications in a romantic whimsical vein. All right, if you insist, you can call the writing quirky. But I do keep myself amused.
Yes, it’s true, and entirely believable, I do have a college degree. I’m not saying when I obtained said degree, however. Go UConn!
Where do I live (for real) you ask? Among the picturesque lake-filled hills and dales (not sure what a dale is) of New Hampshire (the Granite State) (Live Free or Die) (Tough choice, but there’s a lot of tough people around here).
What else do I do besides write presumably fabulous romantic stories with noble heroes and amazing, warm heroines who you want to be just like? As if that’s not enough, I sometimes teach, cook for my two food-loving sons and try to make sure Kitty doesn’t take over the castle while I’m away in the Queendom. (That’s no joke. The cat’s a control freak.). One of my favorite things about writing novels is hearing from readers, so please don’t be shy! You can email me at [email protected].
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Box Set Contents
About the Author
Stephanie Queen Books
Between a Rock and a Mad Woman
Title Page
Copyright Page
Praise for Between a Rock and a Mad Woman
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
The Throwbacks
Title Page
Copyright Page
Praise for Stephanie Queen Books
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
The Hot Shots
Title Page
Copyright Page
Praise for Stephanie Queen’s Books
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
A Note to Readers
About the Author
The Scotland Yard Exchange Series Page 91
