Laura narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. “Oh, really? I’ll take that bet.”
An Excerpt from
CAN’T HELP FALLING IN LOVE
LOVE GOES UNDERCOVER when business strategist Randa Whitmore arrives at the Rock’n’Rolla Hotel in search of a new acquisition for her father’s hotel empire. Too bad Marine-turned-hotel manager Tony Ortega can see right through her Elvis fangirl alibi. Randa’s prepared to bring out the big guns—just so long as she can stay objective and out of Tony’s muscled arms. After all, it’s just business, right?
Tony smiled and Randa watched his face closely to see if his eyes were locked on her legs. She fought off the twinge of doubt when Tony quickly glanced away from her. She yanked out the seat belt and clicked it while she told herself to think about books. Handsome men might be hard to understand, but books would never let her down. “Tony, I’m in. You can close the door.”
He muttered something that sounded like “No guts, no glory.” Then he straightened his shoulders and stepped closer. “You were too fast in the bookstore. I wanted to do this.”
His face was determined as he leaned towards her, and she lost her breath because it looked like he was going to kiss her.
Then he did, his lips a warm shock against hers.
This kiss was a sweet hello. His lips settled on hers in an easy slide. When she gripped his shoulders and tried to pull him closer, he smiled against her lips and his tongue was a quick tease over her bottom lip before he rested his forehead against hers. Randa didn’t move. She was afraid to. He was going to step back, and she didn’t want him to. She wanted to stay right here with him. Finally he took a deep breath and leaned back just enough to look her in the eyes. “There’s this one other thing I’ve been dying to do.”
“Yes.” Randa nodded her head. She had no idea what it was, but she was ready.
Tony squeezed his eyes shut for just a second. The sound he made when he opened them again was somewhere between a laugh and a moan. Maybe it was both. Randa understood exactly what that felt like.
He pressed forward to kiss her again, his hand a hot support against the back of her head and his lips aggressively seductive. This time he coaxed her lips open and teased her tongue with his. Each tentative touch sent a shiver of awareness through her. She wanted to press her breasts against his chest, get closer, so much closer, but the seat belt pinned her down. Her breath was long gone when Tony ended the kiss, his breath coming in quiet pants as he stared into her eyes, but when his hand rested on her knee she tried to gasp. And when he touched her thigh, lightly rubbing his hand on bare skin, she lost her mind.
She actually bit her lip to keep from moaning like a porn star. Because a man touched her thigh. It was a little like she was back in high school but so much hotter.
Seduced in front of a bookstore. Did it get any better? More private, certainly. But better, no way. Tony’s eyes were hot as he stared down at her.
Randa squeezed the hand on her thigh and said, “Satisfied?”
The look in his eyes was predatory. Tony shook his head. “No way. Not even close.”
Randa licked her lips. “Good. Me either.”
About the Author
* * *
Whether she’s writing, reading, or just checking the items off of her daily to-do list, CHERYL HARPER loves her romance mixed with a little laughter. When she’s not working, you will find her ignoring housework, cursing yard work, and spending way too much time with a television remote in her hand.
You can visit her online at www.cherylharperbooks.com.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
By Cheryl Harper
Santa, Bring My Baby Back
Can’t Help Falling in Love
Stuck On You
“Love Me Tender” in Kiss Me: An Avon Books Valentine’s Day Anthology
Give in to your impulses…
Read on for a sneak peek at six brand-new
e-book original tales of romance from Avon Books.
Available now wherever e-books are sold.
ONCE UPON A HIGHLAND SUMMER
By Lecia Cornwall
HARD TARGET
By Kay Thomas
THE WEDDING DATE
A CHRISTMAS NOVELLA
By Cara Connelly
TORN
A BILLIONAIRE BACHELORS CLUB NOVEL
By Monica Murphy
THE CUPCAKE DIARIES: SPOONFUL OF CHRISTMAS
By Darlene Panzera
RODEO QUEEN
By T. J. Kline
An Excerpt from
ONCE UPON A HIGHLAND SUMMER
by Lecia Cornwall
An ancient curse, a pair of meddlesome ghosts, a girl on the run, and a fateful misunderstanding make for the perfect chance at true love in Lecia Cornwall’s latest novella.
“I’ll have your decision now, if you please.”
Lady Caroline Forrester stared at the carpet in her half-brother’s study. It was like everything else in his London mansion—expensive, elegant, and chosen solely to proclaim his consequence as the Earl of Somerson. She fixed her eyes on the blue swirls and arabesques knotted into the rug and wondered what distant land it came from, and if she could go there herself rather than make the choice Somerson demanded.
“Come now,” he said impatiently. “You have two suitors to choose from. Viscount Speed has two thousand pounds a year, and will inherit his father’s earldom.”
“In Ireland,” Caroline whispered under her breath. Speed also had oily, perpetually damp skin and a lisp, and was only interested in her because her dowry would make him rich. At least for a short while, until he spent her money as he’d spent his own fortune—on mistresses, whist, and horses.
“And Lord Mandeville has a fine estate on the border with Wales. His mother lives there, so she would be company for you.”
Mandeville spent no time at all in his country estate for that exact reason. Caroline had been in London only a month, but she’d heard the gossip. Lady Mandeville went through highborn companions the way Charlotte—Somerson’s countess—devoured cream cakes at tea.
Lady Mandeville was famous for her bad temper, her sharp tongue, and her dogs. She raised dozens, perhaps even hundreds, of yappy, snappy, unpleasant little creatures that behaved just like their mistress, if the whispered stories were to be believed. The lady unfortunate enough to become Lord Mandeville’s wife would serve as the old woman’s companion until one of them died, with no possibility of quitting the post to take a more pleasant job.
“So which gentleman will you have?” Somerson demanded, pacing the room, his posture stiff, his hands clasped behind his back, his face sober. Caroline had laughed when he’d first told her the two men had offered for her hand. But it wasn’t a joke. Her half-brother truly expected her to pick one of the odious suitors he’d selected for her and tie herself to that man for life. He looked down his hooked nose at her, a trait inherited from their father, along with his pale, bulging eyes. Caroline resembled her mother, the late earl’s second wife, which was probably why Somerson couldn’t stand the sight of her. As a young man he’d objected to his father’s new bride most strenuously, because she was too young, too pretty, and the daughter of a mere baronet, without fortune or high connections. He’d even objected to the new countess’s red hair. Caroline raised a hand to smooth a wayward russet curl behind her ear. Speed had red hair—orange, really—and spindly pinkish eyelashes.
Caroline thought of her niece Lottie, who was upstairs having her wedding dress fitted, arguing with her mother over what shade of ribbon would best suit the flowers in the bouquet. She was marrying William Rutherford, Viscount Mears—Caroline’s William, the man she’d known all her life, the eldest son and heir of the Earl of Halliwell, a neighbor and dear friend of her parents’. It had always been expected that she’d wed one of Halliwell’s sons, but Sinjon, the earl’s younger son, had left home to join the army and go to war rat
her than propose to Caroline. And now William, who even Caroline thought would make an offer for her hand, had instead chosen Lottie’s hand. Caroline shut her eyes. It was beginning to feel like a curse. Not that it mattered now. William had made his choice. Still, a wedding should be a happy thing, the bride as joyful as Lottie, the future ripe with the possibilities of love and happiness.
Caroline didn’t even like her suitors—well, they weren’t really her suitors. They were courting her dowry, and a connection to Somerson. They needed her money, but they didn’t need her.
An Excerpt from
HARD TARGET
by Kay Thomas
Kay Thomas’ thrilling Elite Ops series kicks off with an unlikely hero and a mother determined to save her child. When Anna Mercado’s son is kidnapped, Former DEA agent Leland Hollis agrees to deliver the ransom into dangerous territory south of the border. Getting the boy out of a violent cartel region involves risking everything. And for that, Leland will have to convince Anna to do the scariest thing of all… open her heart and trust him.
“Could you hand me my top, please?”
Leland bent down to retrieve Anna’s shirt and turned away, staring at the floor in front of him to give her privacy. What the hell was he doing? At least he’d given the room a cursory inspection to rule out cameras or bugs before he’d practically screwed her against the bedroom wall.
What he’d really wanted to tell her, before they’d gotten sidetracked by the birth control issue, was the same thing he’d wanted to tell her last night: She didn’t have to do him to get Zach back. Whether or not they had sex had no bearing on whether he’d help find her son.
Not that he didn’t want her. He did. So much so that his teeth ached.
He hadn’t known her long, but what he knew fascinated him. To have dealt with everything she had in the past year and still be so strong—that inner strength captivated him.
It was important she not think he expected sex in exchange for his help. Sex wasn’t some kind of payoff. He needed to clarify that right away.
Besides, neither of them was going to be able to sleep now. He sighed, zipped his cargo shorts, and pulled on his t-shirt and the shoulder holster with the Ruger. He shoved the larger Glock into his backpack. This was going to be a long evening.
The night breeze had shifted the shabby curtain to the side, leaving an unobscured view into the room. He turned to face her, wondering if anyone on the street had just gotten an eyeful.
A red laser dot reflected off the wide shoulder strap of her tank top. Recognizing the threat, he dove for her, shouting, “Down. Get down!”
Leland tackled Anna around the waist and pulled her to the floor. A bullet hit the wall with a deceptively soft sphlift, right where she’d been standing half a second earlier.
He climbed on top of her, his heart rate skyrocketing, and covered her completely with his body. His boot was awkward. His knee came down between her legs, trapping her in the skirt. More shots slapped the stucco, but they were all hitting above his head.
The gunman must be using a silencer. A loud car engine revved in the street. Voices shouted, and bullets flew through the window, no longer silenced.
How many shooters were there?
A flaming bottle whooshed through the window. It broke on impact, and fire spread rapidly across the dry plywood floor. The pop of more bullets against the wall sounded deceptively benign.
“What’s happening?” Anna’s lips were at his ear.
Her warm breath would have felt seductive if not for the shots flying overhead and the fire licking at his ass. He was crushing her with his body weight, but it was the only way to protect her from the onslaught.
“Why are they shooting at us?” Her voice was thin, like she was having trouble breathing.
He propped himself up on his elbows to take his weight off of her chest but kept his head down next to hers. “They want the money.”
“How do they know about the ransom?” she asked.
“Everyone within a hundred miles knows about it.” He raised his head cautiously.
They were nose to nose, but he ignored the intimacy of the position. They had to get out of the smoke-filled room. In here, even with just half the money, they were sitting ducks.
He needed his bag. It held all his ammunition and the Glock 17. And they couldn’t leave the cash, not now anyway. The money might be the only thing that could keep them alive when they got out of here.
“Come on.” He rolled to the side and tugged Anna’s hand to pull her along with him. “But don’t raise your head.”
Another bullet hit the wall where she had been moments before. God, how many men were there? Knowing that could make a difference in getting out of this alive.
An Excerpt from
THE WEDDING DATE
A Christmas Novella
by Cara Connelly
In this sexy holiday novella, rising star and award-winning author Cara Connelly launches a new series about the magic of weddings!
“Blind dates are for losers.” Julie Marone pinched the phone with her shoulder and used both hands to scrape the papers on her desk into a tidy pile. “You really think I’m a loser?”
“Not a loser, exactly.” Amelia’s inflection kept her options open.
Julie snorted a laugh. “Gee, thanks, sis. Tell me how you really feel.”
“You know what I mean. You’ve been out of circulation for three years. You have to start somewhere.”
“Sure, but did it have to be at the bottom of the barrel?”
“Peter’s a nice guy!” Amelia protested.
“Absolutely,” Julie said agreeably. “So devoted to dear old mom that he still lives in her basement.”
Amelia let out a here-we-go-again groan. “He’s an optometrist, for crying out loud. I assumed he’d have his own place.”
Julie started on the old saying about what happens when you assume, but Amelia cut her off. “Yeah, yeah. Ass. You. Me. Got it. Anyway, Leo”—tonight’s date—“is a definite step up. I checked with his sister”—Amelia’s hair stylist—“and she said he’s got a house in Natick. His practice is thriving.”
“So why’s he going on a blind date?”
“His divorce just came through.”
Julie groaned. Recently divorced men fell into two categories. “Shopping for a replacement or still simmering with resentment?”
“Come on, Jules, give him a chance.”
Julie sighed, slid the stack of papers into a folder marked Westin/Anderson, and added it to her briefcase for tomorrow’s closing. “Just tell me where to meet him.”
“On Hanover Street at seven. He made reservations at a place on Prince.”
“Well, in that case.” Dinner in Boston’s North End almost made it worthwhile. Julie was always up for good Italian. “How will I recognize him? Tall, dark, and handsome?” A girl could hope.
“Dark… but… not tall. Wearing a red scarf.”
“Handsome?”
Amelia cleared her throat. “I caught one of his commercials the other night. He’s got a nice smile.”
“Whoa, wait. Commercials? What kind of lawyer is he?”
“Personal injury.” Amelia dropped it like a turd. Then said, “Oh, look, Ray’s here. Gotta go,” and hung up.
“How did I get into this?” Julie murmured.
The catalyst, she knew, was Amelia’s own upcoming Christmas Eve wedding. She wanted Julie—her maid of honor—to bring a date. A real date, not her gay friend Dan. Amelia loved Dan like a brother, but he was single too, always up for hanging out, and he made it too easy for Julie to duck the dating game.
So Amelia had lined up three eligible men and informed Julie that if she didn’t give them a chance, then their mother—a confirmed cougar with not-great taste in men—would bring a wedding date for her.
Recognizing a train wreck when she saw one coming, Julie had given in and agreed to date all three. So far they were shaping up even worse than expected.
Jan appeared in the doorway. “J-Julie?” Her usually pale cheeks were pink. Her tiny bosom heaved. “Oh, Julie. You’ll never believe… the most… I mean… .”
“Take a breath, Jan.” Julie did that thing where she pointed two fingers at Jan’s eyes, then back at her own. “Focus.”
Jan sucked air through her nose, let it out with a wheeze. “Okay, we just had a walk-in. From Austin.” She wheezed again. “He’s gorgeous. And that drawl… .” Wheeze.
Julie nodded encouragingly. It never helped to rush Jan.
“He said…” Jan fanned herself, for real. She was actually perspiring. “He said someone in the ER told him about you.”
That sounded ominous.
Julie glanced at her watch. Five forty-five, too late to deal with mysterious strangers. If she left now, she’d just have time to get home and change into something more casual for her date.
“Ask him to come back tomorrow,” she said. “I don’t have time—”
“He just wants a minute.” Jan wiped her palms on her grey, pleated skirt. At twenty-five, she dressed like Julie’s Gram, but inside she was stuck at sixteen, helpless in the face of a handsome man. “I-I’m sorry. I couldn’t say no.”
Julie blew out a sigh, wondering—again—why she’d hired her silly cousin in the first place. Because family was family, that’s why.
“Fine. Send him in.”
Ten seconds later, six-foot-two of Texan filled her door. Tawny hair, caramel eyes, tanned cheekbones.
Whoa.
An Excerpt from
TORN
A Billionaire Bachelors Club Novel
by Monica Murphy
Santa, Bring My Baby Back Page 22
