HER INNOCENCE, HIS CONQUEST by Jules Bennett

HER INNOCENCE, HIS CONQUEST by Jules Bennett

ALL WORK AND NO PLAY?

Architecture kingpin and expert playboy Zach Marcum knew exactly how to get what he wanted - both on the job and in the bedroom. Until sexy, independent and impossible-to-ignore Ana Clark charged into his life. Her construction company could make his luxury resort project a multi-million dollar reality, but he couldn't risk letting the career-driven siren slip past his defenses. Discovering she was a virgin made the seduction stakes even greater, as Zach crossed the line from business to pleasure...

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Excerpt:

"That's what I like to see. The foreman watching over her crew."
"Forewoman." Anastasia Clark concentrated on the swift work of her men and tried to keep her eyes off the broad-shouldered man who'd sidled right up against her. "You seem to keep making that blunder."

"So I do."

Risking a glance, Ana darted her gaze to the side. Zach Marcum was just as rugged and, dammit, sexy as he had been the last time she'd seen him in Victor Lawson's office nearly two years ago. Why did she have to find him so attractive?

"Let's step into your office," he told her, peering at her through his dark sunglasses. "We need to discuss some things."

Ana clutched her clipboard to her chest as she turned fully to face him. "We can't talk here?"

Who knew what went on behind those mirrored aviator shades he wore, but she was thankful she didn't have to look at him eye to eye. Those dark, exotic eyes could cause a woman to go utterly speechless. Any other woman, not her.

God help her. They didn't raise men this sexy where she was from in the Midwest.

Zach's mouth quirked up. "No, it's hot."

He turned on his work-booted heel and headed in the direction of her small trailer as if she were just supposed to fall in line simply because he said so. He was just like her father. Just because she found him one of the sexiest men she'd ever seen, didn't mean she thought his cocky attitude was acceptable.

Never in all of her life had she ever dealt with a project manager with such arrogance…or sex appeal. She had to omit that last thought from her mind or she'd have more to worry about on this job than Miami's daily afternoon rain.

If Victor Lawson hadn't been the world-renowned billionaire hotelier building this resort, Ana would've declined without hesitation.

She had plenty of work and more than a steady income, especially since she didn't spend on frivilous things. Every bit she made after bills—and her father's gambling counted as a bill—went into stocks, savings or to her mother.

But the meeting with Victor and The Marcum Agency forced her to face reality. This project would boost her reputation into amazing territory. Zach's twin, Cole, and his fiancee, Tamera, were the designing architects and wonderful people. And, from what Ana had heard, the couple had been reunited thanks to Victor Lawson hiring both The Marcum Agency and the architectural agency Tamera previously owned.

Ana hadn't met the Marcum twins' younger sister, Kayla, but she'd only heard amazing things about her as well.

Which left Zach. There was one in every family. One person who just had to be the star of every show, the flashy one, the one with all the attention, deserved or not.

Zach was a complete replica of her father—or at least the man her father used to be before he gambled away everything they owned. A handsome man who had more money than he knew what to do with so he flaunted everything he could, including and especially his charms, knowing the women would simply flock to his side.

Well, if Zach thought that's how she worked, he had another think coming. She was and always had been a professional. And she'd be damned if she'd let Zach and his architectural ego mess with her mind or the most important project she'd ever had the opportunity to contract.

She didn't have just herself to think of. She had a crew of men and women with families who depended on her. Not to mention her father, who had already called her seeking another ten thousand. If Ana's mother would just leave the man, Ana would pay for anything for her. All the money going to front her father's habit could be used to put her mother in the house of her dreams. And her father could fend for himself. He was long past due to stand up and act like the man he claimed to be.

Turning in her dusty boots, she followed Zach into her on-site office.

He'd already entered, making himself at home by taking a seat in an old yellow vinyl chair opposite her desk.

"What's up?" she asked, closing the door behind her to keep in the refreshing air-conditioning.

He slid those sexy sunglasses off his face, tossed them onto the drafted plans on her desk. He then had the gall to rake that heavy-lidded bedroom gaze over her face as if he expected her to get turned on and swoon.

The hellish Miami heat must be getting to her. She nearly did swoon.

"Did I do something to you?"

Stunned at his blunt question, Ana jerked back a bit. "Excuse me?"

Zach's hands rested on his narrow, denim-clad hips. "I've always been a good people reader. Comes from being the quiet one in the family, always sitting back and observing. What I'm getting from you is that you don't care much for me."

Nearly choking on her laughter, Ana propped a hip on the corner of her desk. No way was she going to sit completely down. She had to keep the upper hand here, on her turf. Instead of smacking him in the head with her clipboard, she professionally and calmly laid it on her desk.

"Zach, I hardly know you. I have no problem with you or our working relationship."

He stepped closer, his brows drawn together as if assessing her. "No, the issue isn't our working relationship. You're one of the most professional companies I've worked with, thus far. It's you. There's something about the way your back straightens, that defiant tilt of your chin when I come around. It's subtle, but your attitude is a bit forced professionally which makes me wonder what you're compensating for."

"Attitude?" she repeated. "Let's not get into attitudes or personal assessments. Is that all you came here for?"

"Where is the rest of your crew?"

Ana didn't fidget with her hands like she wanted to. No way would she let Zach know she was nervous or edgy.

"My crew will be here within the week." She looked him dead in the eye, even though it cost her heart extra beats. "We are finishing up another project in Seattle and the rain up there has put us behind by a month. Mother Nature doesn't care about deadlines."

Zach closed the gap between them, rested his hands on the edge of her desk, right next to her hip. "You are putting a multimillion-dollar deal on the line because you can't work through the weather?"

Now she rose to her full height, which still came in a good three inches below his. "I can work through anything, Mr. Marcum, and remain within budget and deadline."

A smile broke through the ruggedness of his stubbled face. "There's that slight attitude switch again. You're getting all worked up and you called me Mr. Marcum. It was Zach just a few minutes ago."

Millionaire or not, Zach had a bad-boy side that made her want to scream. Why did he have to have so much sex appeal? And most importantly, why did he have to know it?

No, the most important point, she argued with herself, was why did she find him so damn attractive and infuriating at the same time?

"May as well call me Zach," he continued with that cocky grin. "We'll be seeing so much of each other until this project is complete that we'll practically be married."

Ana smoothed stray hairs off her sweaty forehead and gave him her sweetest, sarcastic smile. "Lucky me."

"I knew you'd come around," he mocked. "The concrete will be delivered on Monday. Your crew will be available then, I assume?"

Ana nodded, keeping her mouth shut. Even though he was professional in every aspect, his personality grated on her nerves. Even so, she couldn't let it show, but she would make him choke on his charm. She refused, refused to let him see just how he affected her feminine, non-businesswoman side.

She wondered if any woman ever threw what he offered back in his face. Probably not. And not that he was offering her anything by any means. God knew she was just one of the guys, always had been. She'd grown up on construction sites and always seemed to blend in.

But how easy it would be to fall for the sexy, bad-boy image he portrayed—and portrayed well—knowing all the while beneath the well-worn jeans and black fitted T-shirt a millionaire businessman lurked. Ana bet he lived up to the total bad-boy persona and rode a Harley and had at least one tattoo. Oh, what she wouldn't give to explore his body to find that ink.

"You're overheating."

She jerked her attention back to him. "What?" His hand came up to her cheek. "You're too hot. Get some water."

Get some" What? God, she couldn't think. Not when his thumb caressed her heated skin. If he didn't stop, a little flush would be the least of her worries.

How in the world could her body betray her like that? She couldn't, wouldn't, fall in line with what she was sure was a long trail of busty bimbos tripping over each other to fall at Zach's feet.

"I'm fine," she insisted, swatting his hand away. "I need to get back out there."

"You'll get a drink of water before you fall over in this heat." He moved to the small fridge beside her desk and pulled out a bottle of water. "Drink. I can't have my forewoman out of commission before the first beam is raised."

Taking the bottle from his hands, she twisted the cap, knowing he was right. "Thanks."

The cold, refreshing water was what she needed, but no way would she admit that to Mr. Overinflated Ego. And she certainly wouldn't admit that his touch had affected her in ways the heat of the scorching Miami sun in June couldn't.

Mercy, the man was potent. And she'd thought his looks were sinful. Maybe he deserved that cocky attitude he sported.

"Better," he commented, still studying her face. "You need to keep water with you in this weather."

"I have a cooler out there for me and my crew. This isn't my first job, you know."

His breathtaking smile widened. "Yes, I know your reputation."

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BOUGHT BY A MILLIONAIRE by Heidi Betts

BOUGHT BY A MILLIONAIRE by Heidi Betts

Millionaire Bachelor Seeks Heir

Chicago's Most Eligible Bachelor, Burke Bishop, wanted a child—but didn't want to be shackled by marriage. Surrogacy seemed the only solution, and when he met gorgeous Shannon Moriarity, he knew he'd found the perfect mother for his baby. For reasons she wouldn’t say, Shannon accepted his high-price offer and requested they keep things strictly business.

They conceived without touching, yet Burke found himself craving Shannon’s warmth and demanded she move into his penthouse. Soon, the close quarters elevated their relationship into intimate territory where neither could deny the bond they shared. But when their contract was fulfilled, would they find a prize richer than money could buy?

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Excerpt:

“Dance with me.”

Startled out of her reverie, she realized she’d been more focused on the curve of his full, attractive mouth than the words coming out of it. “Excuse me?”

He took her hand as he rose to his feet. “Dance with me.”

Setting her napkin on the table beside her empty dessert plate, she followed him through the maze of elegantly appointed tables to the polished oak dance floor. A full orchestra played a light, classic rendition of “I’m In the Mood For Love”, and although she didn’t know all the proper steps to this kind of music, she found herself leaning against Burke and simply following his lead.

He held her close, chest to chest, thigh to thigh. They moved in tandem, swaying back and forth as though they were the only couple on the dance floor. The only two people in the room.

“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

Shannon fought her way through the lull of the music and Burke’s soft, possessive hold. She forced her heavy lids open to look him in the eye, and said, “It’s the dress.”

One side of his mouth quirked upwards. “It’s not the dress. Although that’s lovely, too, I’m much more impressed by the woman wearing the dress.”

The first slow song blended into next as they took another turn around the floor. His splayed hand moved lower on her back, tingling the bare flesh there and shooting sparks of awareness up and down her spine. When he pressed his cheek to hers, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

She rubbed against the slight sandpapery texture, even though she knew he’d shaved just before they left for the evening. Soft to hard, smooth to rough, woman to man. It was real and right, and she wanted to freeze this moment in time so she could remember it forever.

Burke’s voice melted in her ear as he nuzzled her lobe and the patch of neck just beneath. “Let me take you home.”

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. For one thing, she didn’t want to. Not anymore.

The orchestra, the atmosphere, Burke’s closeness all meshed together to beat down her defenses. She didn’t care anymore about propriety or keeping her relationship with Burke distanced and professional. She didn’t care about what tomorrow might bring or how many regrets they both might have.

For once, just once, she wanted to follow her heart. She wanted this adventure, with this man.

VALENTE'S BABY by Maxine Sullivan

VALENTE'S BABY by Maxine Sullivan

A baby...and an unwilling bride

For Matthew Valente, paternity trumped everything. Never mind that his ex-employee Lana had kept his baby a secret for nearly a year. Never mind that he considered her a liar and a thief. Their child would bear the Valente name...and so would she. As tension mounted in the House of Valente, Matthew fought to resist the memories of their past indiscretion. His bewitching bride insisted things were not as they seemed. But as restraint turned to passion, would the corporate king fall victim to the very worst of takeover - his heart?

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Excerpt:

"You're a father."

Matt Valente broke into a grin as he sat down on the hotel bed. "I didn't know I was pregnant."

"Don't be smart, Matthew," Cesare Valente snapped down the telephone line. The founder of the House of Valente perfume dynasty was clearly not amused. "Remember Lana Jensen?"

The smile dropped from Matt's lips. "She was my top accountant a while back, so yeah, I should remember her." That perfect body…that beautiful face… those Nordic blue eyes hinting at a Scandinavian heritage that seemed as clear as crystal but were in fact deep and hiding lies.

"She had your baby."

A baby?

No way.

The only thing she'd had was him.

They'd both been a little tipsy at the office Christmas party and she'd taken advantage of his inebriated state to seduce him. They'd made love on the sofa in his office.

Not that he'd been any less to blame for succumbing to her charms, despite her giving him the come-on for months, her blue gaze skittering away every so often, teasing him with a sensual game of cat and mouse.

Afterward he'd regretted not keeping to his golden rule of no personal involvement with office staff. As chief financial officer for the family business, he didn't need any complications in the workplace.

"I don't believe it. She's lying."

"I saw the child with my own eyes, Matt. I was in my Mercedes waiting for the light to change when Lana crossed in front of me pushing a small child in a stroller. I checked out the birth certificate. Your name's on it."

Matt's hand tightened around the phone. "Dad, that's a breach of privacy."

His.

Hell, if his name was on that birth certificate he needed to sort it out.

"Matt, I did what needed to be done. And that included a background check on Lana."

Matt's lips twisted. "Why am I not surprised?"

"It was necessary. She's the mother of my grandchild."

"And she'd suitable?" he asked with a touch of sarcasm.

"As far as I'm concerned, yes. Her parents are dead, and she has an uncle who lives in France and is a respected businessman. Do you want to know more? There's some other information on her family. I can send you the report."

"No, thanks." He knew all he needed to know about Lana Jensen. More than enough.
And he needed to make his father see sense.

"Dad, look, you can put any name on a birth certificate. I didn't think you'd fall for that old trick."

"She's a Valente, figlio mio." Son of mine. "She looked just like you. There's no doubt in my mind."

Something odd bounced around in Matt's chest. "It's a girl? Er… I mean, she's a girl?"

"Yes. And I'm delighted. It's about time we had another little girl in the family."

Matt grimaced. Girl or boy, it didn't matter to him. "Well, I'm not."

"You will be once you see her."

"Who said I was going to see her?"

"She's my granddaughter, Matt. If you don't go to her, then I'll bring her to you."

Matt's jaw clenched. "This is to trick me into getting married, isn't it? You may have forced Alex and Nick to marry, but I'm not falling for it, Dad."

A year ago they'd been about to branch into the North American market with their top-selling perfume, Valente's Woman, when Cesare had threatened to sell the business out from under Alex's feet if he didn't marry. Then a couple of months ago, Cesare had promised to give the Valente estate to anyone but his second son, Nick. Both his brothers had been given no choice but to do what their father wanted or lose what they loved most. As youngest son, Matt had decided there was nothing his father could do to him to make him marry.

"Matt, I admit I had no compunction in forcing your two brothers to marry, and I would have found a way to force you to marry, too. Only now I don't have to, do I? You've brought a daughter into this world and you will give that daughter your name. She will be known as a true Valente."

"Don't dictate to me, Dad. If this child is mine, and I'm in no way convinced of it, then I'll give her my name. You can count on it."

"That's all I wanted to know. The family jet is at Brisbane Airport waiting for you. Nick and Sasha are already there and will attend the conference dinner in your place."

His father was like a damn bulldozer at times. Not even the heart attack had stopped his interfering in his sons' lives.

"I've got a date for the dinner tonight."

"You had a date. I suggest you break it and get back to Sydney tonight and go see the mother of your child as soon as possible. I like Lana and I'm sure she'll be reasonable."

At the mention of Lana, his gut clenched, but there was no way he wanted his father to know that. Cesare would somehow use that knowledge in future if he could. He could imagine the older man's reaction if he ever told him Lana was a thief and that he'd covered up for her without telling anyone. And he couldn't wholly blame his decision not to report their theft on Cesare's heart attack at the time either.

"What woman is ever reasonable, Dad?" he mocked.

Cesare laughed and said goodbye, and Matt hung up the phone and went to stand at the window in his hotel suite. He looked out over the sweeping coastline of Queensland's Gold Coast as the rolling surf of the Pacific Ocean tumbled onto the golden beaches of Australia's tourist capital.

Tonight he'd planned a romantic dinner and a night of lovemaking with a lady friend of his.

Now he could only think of one woman.

Lana Jensen.

She'd been the only woman he'd made love to without a condom. He'd been so hot for her, and the alcohol he'd consumed had lowered his guard.

But if that child was his-if Lana had lied to him about being protected from a pregnancy-then she'd done more than stolen that fifty thousand dollars from the House of Valente.

She'd just stolen his freedom.

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HIS RING, HER BABY by Maxine Sullivan

HIS RING, HER BABY by Maxine Sullivan

Wanted: One Wedding Ring...For Now

The job title was housekeeper, not fiancee! But billionaire cattleman Kirk Deverill couldn't throw the lovely single mom off his ranch. Especially when he knew the job would help her keep her son. Of course, the eligible bachelor hadn't expected her to tell everyone she was also Kirk's bride-to-be! He agreed to Vanessa's ruse for her adorable son's sake. And for the opportunity to claim some "husbandly" pleasures. Of course, making their fake engagement a real union was never going to happen. The Outback loner had his reasons...and even the most desirable of women wouldn't get him to change his mind.

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Excerpt:

We've sold the motel.

Vanessa Hamilton was still reeling from her cousin's news when she looked up and saw a luxury Range Rover pull up out front of the Jackaroo Plains Motel.

She groaned, wishing she could go think about her situation without interruption from either telephones or guests. Her son was taking his morning nap right now so the timing would have been perfect. She was pleased for Linda and Hugh, of course. It was what they wanted. But she'd only been here three weeks and had planned on staying at least six months.

And right now she had to put all her worry aside as she watched the man push open the glass door. Lord, he was certainly handsome enough to take any woman's mind off her problems.

Or create one.

No one had taught her about these three Rs in school.

Rich.

Rugged.

Red-blooded.

He epitomized everything she imagined a wealthy outback male to be. From the tips of his brown leather boots, to bone-colored trousers and the light blue polo shirt a woman was tempted to rub against, to his wrist where an expensive Rolex glistened in the light.

He stopped in front of the reception desk, his blue eyes filling with masculine appreciation. "You're new here," he drawled.

She lifted her chin, annoyed with herself for finding him attractive. "Are you looking for a room?" she asked in her best no-nonsense voice, already knowing they had nothing suitable. The Plaza Hotel in New York was more his style.

Those blue eyes narrowed on her. "No."

"If you're looking to eat in the restaurant—"

"I'm not."

"You're not here for the gardener's job, are you?" she said, knowing it sounded ridiculous but one never knew.

His low chuckle resonated with something inside her. Something she didn't want to acknowledge.

"No, I'm not here for that, either."

Suddenly she noticed his gaze dart to her left hand, noting her bare fingers. Uneasiness fluttered inside her stomach that he might think her single and available. It had been weird taking off her rings, but the heat had made her fingers swell a little and the alternative had been to have the rings adjusted. She hadn't wanted to do that, seeing her fingers would return to normal once she returned to Sydney.

Just like she would return to normal, she had promised herself, realizing now it might happen sooner than expected.

Oh, God, she didn't want to go back to the city where her wealthy parents-in-law doted on her one-year-old son, Josh.

More than doted.

Smothered.

"I came to see Linda and Hugh," the man said, drawing her back to the present.

The penny dropped. He was the new owner of the motel. Oh, yes, that explained him. Her cousin said he was rich, predatory, and sucked up failing businesses like a vacuum cleaner, then got rid of half the staff under the guise of modernization.

Well, officially she wasn't on the staff.

She gave him a cool look. "They're not here."

"Where are they?"

"Dubbo."

There was a moment's pause. "When will they be back?"

"No idea."

One brow lifted, a questioning light in his eyes. "Are you always this helpful?"

"Only when it's part of the job," she said with a politeness that was nothing more than lip service.

His jaw set. "Look, I'm a friend of Linda and Hugh's and—"

Her heart thudded. "A… a friend?"

"Yes, Hugh and I went to boarding school together."

"Oh, I thought—" She stopped. Perhaps Linda and Hugh didn't want it known yet that they were selling.

"Yes?"

"It doesn't matter." It all made sense now. She could easily see the two men being friends. Hugh's parents owned a cattle station, but Hugh had been more interested in business than the land and had bought the motel for him and Linda.

Did this man own a cattle station, too? He certainly looked like one of the wealthy landowners.

"The name's Kirk, by the way," he said, snapping her from her thoughts. "Kirk Deverill."

His name flowed over her. Why couldn't he be called Bruce? Or Darryl? Something that didn't sound so masculine or make a woman think about him as a man.

She let out a shaky breath. "I'm Linda's cousin. Vanessa Hamilton."

He paused, as if putting the name to her face and liking what he saw. Then his eyes fell to her lips. "I didn't know Linda had such a beautiful cousin."

She gave a soft gasp. Why did this man's words make her knees weak when almost every available male in town, and some not so available, had said the same thing since her arrival?

The telephone rang and she snatched it up, uncomfortable at the feelings he was raising inside her. She could feel him watching her as she went to a stand to get a brochure on the Western Plains Zoo at Dubbo. She answered a couple of questions for the guest then hung up and put the brochure back.

"I'm sorry. I—" She looked up and caught him eyeing the full length of her denim jeans. "Um… just a question about the zoo," she finished on a lame note.

"No need to be sorry," he said smoothly, not looking the slightest bit uncomfortable at having been caught. Then he considered her. "So tell me. Why the attitude?"

She cleared her throat. "Attitude?"

"You obviously thought I was someone else."

"Perhaps." It wasn't up to her to tell him about the sale. Besides, he could say he was a friend of Linda and Hugh's but that didn't mean he actually was.

"Someone you don't like."

"Maybe."

"You realize you owe me an apology," he pointed out.

Yes, and he owed her an apology for the way he'd been looking at her, but did she want to go there? No way.

"Of course, there is a way you could make up for it," he said, a light in his eyes telling her this man was very experienced with women.

She stiffened. Here it comes. One sexist remark and she'd tie him to a tree for the dingoes to eat.

"Have dinner with me tomorrow night."

"Dinner?" Her heart jumped in her chest. "I can't. I mean, I can't desert Linda and Hugh then. It's going to be a big night for them. I'm helping out around the place, you see, and I—"

"You only had to say no." Her reaction seemed to amuse him. "I'm a big boy. I can take it."

Vanessa didn't know whether to be relieved or irritated that he gave in so easily. She'd expected some sort of fight from the guy.

She drew breath. "Fine then. No, I don't want to have dinner with you tomorrow night."

"How about a rain check?"

She gave a startled laugh. "What happened to 'you only had to say no'?"

"I said I could take it. I didn't say I would." An air of indolence exuded from him. "Now, about that rain check…"

All at once she wanted to get the better of him. "Okay," she said, planting a smirk on her lips. "Next time it rains I'll have dinner with you."

His brow rose. "You realize we're in the middle of a severe drought, don't you?"

"Yes, I know."

His firm lips relaxed into a lazy smile and her stomach did a flip-flop. Suddenly she wanted to step around the counter and into his arms. Arms that would snake around her hips and pull her up against his aroused body.

Aroused? Yes, she had the feeling she could excite this man, if she chose to make a move on him.

Not that she would, she told herself as she mentally pulled away in confusion. She'd never felt such an instant reaction before. With Mike the attraction had grown as she'd slowly fallen in love.

Mike.

Oh, God, how could she even think about comparing her late husband to this stranger? What was wrong with her today? Maybe it was just too much stress. In any case, it was definitely too much of—

"Kirk!" Linda exclaimed, coming through a side door with Hugh, sending a sigh of relief through Vanessa, who was more than ready to go clean some of the vacated rooms. "You're back from Sydney at last."

"Yes, just passing through on the way home." He gave Linda a kiss on the cheek and shook Hugh's hand. Then his gaze slid across the reception desk. "Your cousin's been looking after me."

Linda darted a smile at Vanessa. "Good."

"Did she tell you about the sale?" Hugh said.

Kirk brows drew together. "Sale?"

Vanessa gave Hugh a helpless smile. "I wasn't sure if I should say anything."

"That's okay, love," Hugh said warmly. "Kirk, we put the motel on the market a few weeks ago and this morning we received our first reasonable offer. That's why we rushed into Dubbo. To sign the contract."

A frown crossed Kirk's face. "You're selling?"

"It's either sell now or lose everything," Hugh said, then his face brightened. "But I've been offered a job to manage some apartments on the Gold Coast. It's come at the perfect time. Linda and I want to have another baby in the nottoo-distant future." He hugged his wife to his side. "Don't we, darling?"

Linda smiled up at him. "A little brother or sister for Toby would be lovely."

Kirk scowled. "Listen, if you need money to keep the motel afloat—"

Hugh shook his head. "Thanks, mate, but it's been getting too much for us anyway. It'll be nice to have a normal family life again."

Vanessa watched Kirk seriously consider his friends, then give a slow nod. "I'll be sorry to see you both go."

"Hey, we'll only be a few hours away by air," Linda said.

"When does the sale go through?"

"We're handing over in a month's time." Hugh grimaced. "The buyer is Bert Viner and you know what his reputation is like. I don't like selling to him but—" He put up his hand as Kirk went to speak. "No, we're fine, Kirk. It's time for us to move on."

Linda sighed. "Unfortunately he'll cut back on staff and I hate that people will lose their jobs. And Vanessa was going to stay for six months but now…" Linda looked at her cousin and her eyes clouded over. "I just didn't think it would happen this quickly."

Neither had she, Vanessa thought, forcing a smile. "Oh, Linda, it's not like you hadn't told me that you'd put the motel on the market."

"I know but—"

"Don't worry about me. This is your life we're talking about." They'd worked hard to get to this point in their lives.

"I know but—"

"I've had a nice break," Vanessa said firmly.

Linda took a shuddering breath, then her face filled with resolve. "You're my cousin. We'll think of something."

Vanessa's heart softened as she looked at Linda's upset face and Hugh's concerned one. These two people had welcomed her into their home with love and affection and she didn't want them to feel guilty about any of this.

Then she realized Kirk's intense gaze was on her. He couldn't know her circumstances but she suspected he knew she was deeply worried.

So she welcomed Linda's exclamation. "Oh, heavens, Kirk! We're standing here talking to you instead of offering you a drink. Or how about I make you some lunch? The restaurant's closed but I'd be happy to whip something up for you."

Kirk's smile said thanks but he replied, "Sorry, I can't. I need to get home and do some catching up. I've been away too long."

Linda's expression turned sympathetic. "I'd heard your housekeeper had to go interstate to take care of a family member. It won't be easy getting someone to replace her." She pulled a face. "And here, I haven't even asked how your mother is after her surgery. There were some complications, I believe."

"Yes, but she's finally on the mend. Jade's looking after her now, when she's not working all the hours under the sun, that is."

"I wonder who your sister is like?" Linda teased, then her eyes widened. "Oh, I almost forgot. It's Hugh's parents' thirty-fifth wedding anniversary tomorrow and we're giving them a party in the restaurant. You must come, Kirk. They'd be heartbroken if you didn't. Isn't that right, Hugh?"

"You know they always had a soft spot for you," Hugh said, going over to one of their guests who'd come in and made a beeline for the brochure stand.

"I don't see how," Kirk joked after him, and Vanessa had to wonder the same thing, too. The man had a hardness about him that didn't translate into him being more a friend than a foe. Yet watching him here with Linda and Kirk—and he evidently treated his mother and sister well—didn't fit. That hardness was more than skin deep, she was sure.

"I'll see what I can do," he added.

"Good," Linda said, taking that for his word. "And if you don't mind, you can keep an eye on Vanessa. She doesn't know many people in Jackaroo Plains. She's only been here from Sydney three weeks."

Vanessa froze.

"It would be my pleasure," she heard Kirk say.

She recovered quickly. Her cousin was a mother hen at times but she didn't need looking after, and certainly not by a man who dined on women for breakfast.

"I'll be fine, Linda. I don't want to take Kirk away from the other guests."

"You won't," he said, a purposeful gleam in his eyes sending a shock through her, though it shouldn't have. He'd been making a move on her since he'd walked through the door, and mentally she was already his.

"There you are then," Linda said, giving Vanessa an encouraging smile. All at once she tilted her head thoughtfully. "You're looking quite flushed, sweetie. It's this outback heat. You haven't got the air-conditioning turned up high enough. You should go for a quick swim but don't stay in the sun too long."

Vanessa swallowed with difficulty. "What a good idea," she said, not looking at Kirk.

Thankfully another guest came into the reception area just then, and with Hugh still busy with the previous guest, Linda came around the counter. "Here, cuz. Let me take over. You go have that swim."

Vanessa didn't need further prompting. She twirled toward the door marked Private, desperate to grab any excuse to get out of that man's presence. She heard him tell the others he had to get home.

Then, "Vanessa?"

If only she could ignore him, but Linda and Hugh would think her rude.

She stopped and glanced over her shoulder. "Yes?"

"See you at the party," he said, an intensity to his eyes that made her softly gasp.

Somehow she managed a jerky nod before making her escape. It hadn't been an issue before now but tomorrow night she'd tell him he'd got it all wrong. He had to be told she was a widow. There was no way this man would want any involvement with a woman who was still mourning the man she loved.

Kirk Deverill would never accept being second best.

After six weeks away Kirk had looked forward to coming home but now as he drove toward Deverill Downs, he realized the news that his friends were leaving the area shouldn't really have come as a surprise. He'd miss them. There weren't many people he totally trusted like he did Hugh and Linda.

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CHRISTMAS IN HIS ROYAL BED by Heidi Betts

CHRISTMAS IN HIS ROYAL BED by Heidi Betts

OWNED BY THE PRINCE

The moment Prince Nicolas saw sultry Alandra Sanchez, he wanted her for his mistress. Determined to have her in his bed by Christmas, he lured her with a job at his island palace. Nicolas would stop at nothing to satisfy his lust, including seducing her with a little royal treatment. Soon his fiery passion began to awaken Alandra’s own forbidden desires. But would she leave him once she discovered he was about to enter a loveless royal marriage?

She’d become the prince’s paramour…but would she ever be his wife?

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Excerpt:

Alandra was drawn from her thoughts when the limousine slowed and waited for a tall antiqued iron gate to slide open and allow them entrance. They drove up a long, winding drive that ran between two sections of pristine, well-manicured lawn before arriving in front of what could never be mistaken for anything but a palace.

The house—for lack of a better word—was somewhat historical in design, but looked updated and modern. Eggshell white, with pillars and balconies and a myriad of floor-to-ceiling, multi-paned windows everywhere she looked, it stood atop a small rise and overlooked the rushing waves of the Mediterranean.

As the driver opened the door and helped her out of the vehicle, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the breathtaking view. She continued to gawk while he removed her bags from the trunk and escorted her to the front of the palace.

A butler opened the door and invited her inside, where a handful of maids dressed in matching gray uniforms collected her luggage and trotted off with it.

Rather than showing her where she would be staying, the butler said, “The Prince has requested you be brought to him immediately upon your arrival, Miss Sanchez. If you’ll follow me.”

Feeling as though she’d just stepped into a fairy tale, Alandra did just that, taking in every detail of the foyer as they passed.

The floor was expensive, highly polished marble in checked squares of black and a mottled white that looked almost gray. A chandelier the size of a small bus hung overhead, thousands of dangling crystals twinkling in the natural light. Directly across from the front entrance stood a wide staircase leading halfway to the second level before branching off to either side.

The butler led her to the right of the foyer, still on the first floor, and down a carpeted corridor lined with priceless artwork and closed doorways. He paused at one of these doors and knocked. When a low, muffled voice bade him entrance, he stepped inside, announced her presence, and then moved aside for her to pass.

The personal office was decidedly masculine, with a dark area rug, built-in bookshelves lining three of the four walls, and a large cherry wood desk taking up a good portion of the room.

Dragging her gaze from the impressive surroundings, Alandra turned her attention to the man sitting behind that desk . . . only to feel her eyes go wide and her mouth fall open.

Dear God, it was . . . “You,” she breathed.

“Miss Sanchez.” He rose and regally rounded the desk until he stood directly in front of her. “How good of you to accept my offer and come to work for our family.”

“You’re Prince Stephan—”

“Nicolas Braedon of Glendovia, yes. You may call me Nicolas.”

Nicolas. The same Nicolas who had asked her over for a glass of champagne and then invited her to sleep with him.

Her mouth went dry with shock, her stomach clenching and her pulse kicking as hard as though she’d just run a marathon. At the same time, her palms turned damp and she feared her knees might give out on her.

How could this be happening? How could she have missed all the hints and clues?

My God, she felt like an idiot.

She should have recognized the jacket he was wearing the night of the charity dinner, similar to the one he wore now that all but shouted “royalty.”

Or his reluctance to give her a full name when he’d introduced himself.

Or the name on the letterhead, with the one name he had given her right there in dark, raised script. Just because it was a middle name didn’t mean it wasn’t still the same name.

Looking back, there were any number of signs she should have picked up on, more research she should have done before accepting this position. It was enough to make her want to bang her head against the nearest brick wall.

“I don’t understand,” she said, her voice fainter than usual as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. “Why would you invite me to work for you after the way we parted after the hospital fundraiser? All you wanted from me then was . . .”

Realization dawned and her blood turned cold.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed, oxygen rushing from her lungs as shock coursed through her body. “You did this on purpose. You lured me here under false pretenses so that I would sleep with you.”

“Not exactly,” he replied, standing straight as a sword with his hands clasped behind his back. “Glendovia is very much in need of someone to organize its charitable foundations, and after seeing you in action, I decided you would be the perfect person for the job.”

“And you’ve changed your mind about wanting me in your bed?” she challenged.

His lip curled in what could only be described as a dangerous, predatory grin as he replied, “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

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INHERITING HIS SECRET CHRISTMAS BABY by Heidi Betts

INHERITING HIS SECRET CHRISTMAS BABY by Heidi Betts

(Dynasties: The Jarrods - Book 6)

Holiday husband...and father?

This wasn't the type of Christmas present he'd been expecting. Trevor Jarrod - a daddy? Yet the enticing woman seated in his office claimed the Aspen businessman was the father of her baby nephew. Quick as he could say paternity test, Trevor discovered she was telling the truth. But just what did this revelation mean? The confirmed bachelor knew nothing about being a parent. And Haylie Smith wasn't about to hand off the precious infant to a complete stranger.

If Trevor really wanted to claim his unexpected heir, he had an important choice - head to court...or head to the altar!

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Excerpt

“Any messages?” Trevor Jarrod asked his assistant, running his fingers through his dark hair to brush away any excess moisture.

Getting to her feet, she handed him a stack of pink papers. More than he was in the mood to deal with at the moment.

“Before you go into your office . . .” she began, only to let her words drift off, her bottom lip disappearing between her teeth as she worried it nervously.

“Yes?”

She took a breath and met his gaze. “There’s a young woman waiting for you. She’s been calling, and insisted on seeing you in person. I started to turn her away, but didn’t have the heart, and . . . well, I just thought she was someone you should deal with personally.”

He frowned. Diana might be pixie-petite, but he’d seen her in protective, full linebacker mode. The woman in his office must indeed be brave to have gotten past her. Brave, or very convincing.

“Who is she?” he asked.

Diana shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her yourself. She didn’t say, she was just . . . very determined.”

With a sigh, Trevor folded the stack of messages and stuffed them in his pants pocket. “Fine. I’ll take care of it.”

Pulling open both of the heavy oak doors that separated his office from the reception area, he paused to take in the sweep of his office. The thick Gulistan carpeting. The unlit fireplace built of smooth river stones lining the back wall. And in the center of the room, his heavy, ornately carved desk with its lamp at one corner, computer monitor at the other, and stacks of paper at the center.

But no woman in either of the guest chairs waiting to see him.

Closing the doors behind him with a click, he stepped farther inside. As the sound echoed through the room, his espresso-dark leather desk chair tipped slightly before swiveling around to reveal a lovely woman with honey-blonde hair and blue eyes. On her lap, leaning back against her chest, was an infant busily chewing on his own hand.

Trevor frowned. Well. The woman was no surprise; Diana had warned him one was waiting to see him. His so-called assistant had failed to mention, however, that said woman had a child with her.

What kind of woman came to a business meeting with a baby in tow? he wondered. Even an impromptu meeting that—judging by the way this one was starting—might not last long.

“My secretary said you needed to speak with me,” he said, rounding the desk with every intention of taking her place and relegating her to one of the guest chairs.

If he’d expected her to hop up and bashfully bustle around to the other side of the desk, though, he was doomed to disappointment. She held her ground, remaining seated in his executive chair—the one he had special ordered and waited nearly a month for it arrive, the one that had taken another month to break in and now cushioned his body like a glove during each of the many long hours he put in here at Jarrod Manor—while she bounced the child up and down on her knees.

“I’m Trevor Jarrod,” he offered when she didn’t seem eager to fill the chilly silence.

“I know who you are. I’ve been trying to reach you for the past two months.”

Her tone was flat with a trace of annoyance threading through, but also light and extremely feminine. Lifting a hand, she swept a chunk of her straight blond hair behind one ear, revealing a single ruby red stud that matched the knit vee-neck sweater she was wearing with a pair of sleek black slacks.

The baby on her lap was dressed in a pair of blue denim overalls with an embroidered train engine on the front pocket and a shirt underneath with dozens more trains covering the white cotton. A boy, Trevor assumed, otherwise he would be looking at a little denim jumper covered in pink butterflies or some such.

As though he sensed Trevor’s perusal, the baby gave a smiling gurgle and kicked his legs out in front of him.

Dragging his attention back to the woman who’d fought so hard to gain an audience with him, but suddenly seemed at a loss for words, Trevor crossed his arms over his chest and lifted a brow. “And you are?”

That brought her to her feet, shifting the child in her arms until he was perched on one hip.

How did women do that? Were they born knowing how to hold babies, change diapers, and distinguish between eighteen different types of cries?

Of the six Jarrod children, Melissa was his only younger sibling. Which meant he didn’t have a lot of experience with babies. Even being this close to one, with his mother right there, ready, willing, and able to react to his every need, made Trevor more than a bit uncomfortable.

Clearing his throat to cover the fact that he’d nearly taken a step back, away from the woman and her child, he waited. She still owed him a name and an explanation for her presence, and he had work to do.

“My name is Haylie Smith.”

He blinked, waiting for her to elaborate. Instead, after several a long seconds ticked by, she tipped her head and let her eyes go wide, as though she’d just delivered a punch line, but he didn’t get the joke.

“Haylie Smith,” she said again, more firmly this time, careful to enunciate each syllable.

“I heard you,” he murmured, fighting the twitch at the corner of his lips as they threatened to lift in an amused grin.

It wasn’t often that he was treated like the slow kid in school. Very few would dare. Because while he was known to be fairly laid back and fun-loving, even flirty at times when it came to women, he was also a Jarrod. One of the heirs to Donald Jarrod’s vast fortune, and a successful entrepreneur in his own right.

He was rich, and he was powerful. And while it might take a lot to shake him from his easy-going nature, he wasn’t a man other men wanted to risk pissing off.

That this stranger—a woman, no less—seemed to have no compunction about going nose to nose with him was more arousing than it should have been.

Not that she wasn’t an attractive woman. At what he estimated to be about five feet four or five inches to his six-two, she was tall, but not too tall. She was also far from reed-thin, but nowhere near fat, either. She had curves in all the right places, pressing against the front of her sweater and filling out the hips of her slacks. The kind of figure that would feel soft and warm against his hard chest and firm thighs.

Her long, straight hair was like bottled sunshine and framed a heart-shaped face that was a fascinating mix of innocence and sensuality. The rosy bow of her mouth, the sharp, crystal blue of her eyes, the way she held that baby with both confidence and possessiveness . . .

None of it should be turning him on, since he was about three seconds away from booting her out of his office, but damned if he wasn’t starting to feel a tell-tale warmth in his blood and tightening in his gut.

Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately—she didn’t seem to be suffering the same physiological response to him.

“I’ve been calling you for the past two months,” she charged impatiently. “Leaving messages that you apparently couldn’t be bothered to return.”

With a nod, he moved around her and took his rightful place behind his desk. “My secretary mentioned that. Although I can’t understand what’s so pressing if you weren’t willing to leave details about why you wanted to speak with me.”

Just as he’d intended, his near-dismissal of her caused her to move back around to the front of his desk. She didn’t sit, though, instead standing directly in front of him while she bounced her hip and wove back and forth in a calm, gentle motion he assumed was for the baby’s benefit.

“Some things are better said in person. And I didn’t think you would appreciate your secretary being privy to your personal business.”
At that, his brows drew together and he dragged his attention from the folder on the desk in front of him to her glittering gaze.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve never seen or heard of you before. What kind of personal business could you possibly have with me?” he nearly scoffed, wondering if this woman might be slightly unhinged. Maybe she’d convinced herself she was yet another long lost Jarrod heir. Or maybe she’d seen one too many photographs of him in the local and national tabloids, and had convinced herself that she was one of his many feminine conquests.

He was debating the wisdom of getting up to open the double doors again, and possibly even buzzing for hotel security, when she switched the baby from one hip to the other and began to round his desk again—in the opposite direction this time—with slow, determined steps.

“You’re right, you don’t know me. We’ve never met. But a year ago, you met my sister, and from what I’ve heard, the two of you had a heck of a good time.”

She stopped in front of him, towering over him in a manner he definitely didn’t appreciate. He sat back, prepared to launch to his feet and stare her down, if necessary, but her next words glued him in place.

“And maybe if you returned a phone call once in a while, it wouldn’t have taken me two months to track you down and introduce you to your son.”

With that, she plopped the baby unceremoniously on his lap before leaning back to cross her arms beneath her breasts and look down at him with what could only be described as a satisfied smirk.

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HIGH-SOCIETY SECRET BABY by Maxine Sullivan

HIGH-SOCIETY SECRET BABY by Maxine Sullivan

He'd done his late brother the ultimate favor and now Dominic Roth was paying the ultimate price. The tycoon could not declare Cassandra Roth's child his own - society could know the baby only as his niece. So when the opportunity arose for Dominic to lay claim to both mother and child, he played his cards.

Yet even as Dominic finally had the woman he'd secretly coveted, he knew he could not reveal their daughter's true parentage. For the billionaire daddy dared not risk destroying his tenuous hold on true happiness.

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Excerpt:

"Marry you?" Cassandra Roth whispered as she sank down on the leather sofa.

Dominic Roth stood in front of the terrace doors with the city of Melbourne's skyline in the distance behind him and watched his beautiful sister-in-law gasp in shock. He'd almost feel sorry for her if he didn't know her better. "That's right. You and I are getting married."

His voice seemed to draw her from herself, and she lifted her ash-blond head, her eyes clouding over. "But Liam's been dead only a week."

Pain clawed through him. "I know exactly how long my brother has been dead." And early December would never be the same for his family. The start of summer, then Christmas, would always hold the memory of Liam.

There was a flash of sympathy before she pulled back her slim shoulders. "And he was my husband."

"For less than three years. He was my brother for twenty-eight." Liam had been the youngest, Adam was two years older, and Dominic was two years older than Adam. Never had any of them dreamed that an illness would take Liam at such a young age.

"That's a low blow, Dominic," she admonished.

He kept any hint of remorse out of his expression. He wouldn't have said that to any other woman but this one. She'd married Liam only to get her hands on the Roth family fortune. His great-grandfather would roll over in his grave if he knew that Roth's, his Australian luxury goods department store chain, was keeping this woman in her own brand of luxury.

He reached inside the jacket of his business suit and pulled out an envelope. "I have a letter here. It's from Liam. He wanted me to give it to you. To explain."

Her finely arched eyebrows drew together. "Explain?"

"Why he wanted you to marry me."

Her blue eyes widened. "What! My husband wanted me to marry you?"

"He wanted his daughter to grow up a Roth."

Her forehead creased; her eyes looked confused. "But Nicole is already a Roth."

Something turned inside him. He knew that more than anyone.

"Liam wanted his daughter to grow up a Roth, living under the Roth name. He didn't want you marrying someone outside the family. He thought you might, especially considering your affair with Keith Samuels."

She drew in a sharp breath. "You know about that?"

"Liam told me."

"But—but it wasn't like that."

"No excuses please, Cassandra," he snapped, carrying the letter over to her. "I don't want to hear the details."

She stared up at him, a tremor touching her lips, but he was unmoved by her performance. He thrust the sealed envelope at her and moved back to his original position, scrutinizing her as she tore open the envelope and began to read. How could any woman be so stunningly beautiful yet be so hard and demanding underneath? What was in the way she carried herself that was so deceptive? What was her allure for a man?

Her soft pink ensemble of matching trousers, camisole top and jacket projected an image of elegance and grace. Strappy sandals added style, as did the delicate gold earrings and thin gold chain at her neck. Her makeup was refined, her skin flawless, her ash-blond hair gently fluffed and falling down to her shoulders.

And that flawless face was white by the time she finished reading. "Did you read this?"

"No, but Liam apprised me of its contents when he gave it to me."

Something shifted in her expression, but it disappeared as she jumped to her feet, the letter held tightly in her hand. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this."

"I think you'll find you don't have a choice."

There was a fleeting pause. "Why do you say that?"

"The reading of Liam's will is tomorrow. I thought I'd break it to you beforehand to avoid a scene." Thank God his father had taken his mother away on the family yacht to mourn.

"A—a scene?"

"If you don't marry me within two weeks, the bulk of the estate will go to Nicole when she turns twenty-one, rather than being shared between you now. You'll receive only enough to live on, solely for Nicole's well-being, until then. If that happens, every cent you need will have to go through me."

"What!"

He would not let himself feel sorry for her. "Liam told me how much allowance you receive each month. He was extremely generous. I'd say you have a lot to lose, wouldn't you? "

Her throat convulsed. "But that was for—"

"There you have it," he said, cutting her off, not wanting to hear excuses.

"This is ridiculous! It's an abomination. I'll contest it."

"You could try. Liam tied it up pretty good. As it stands, you'll have just enough to live on, and certainly nothing like the standard of living you have now," he mocked, glancing around the room.

The spacious town house was a showcase of modern living, with a design reflecting space and light, a white-on-white decor, state-of-the-art technology second to none, and a private courtyard ideal for extensive entertaining. He'd been here only a few times, but he'd always thought it was ideal for them both.

Yet studying Cassandra now, he realized she didn't seem to fit in the place at all. Had it suited Liam more? And why suddenly not her? The coolness, the whiteness, the automation of it all should fit her, but it didn't, and he didn't know why it wasn't reflecting what he knew of this woman.

He grimaced to himself at that. Hell, what did he care, anyway? Damn Liam for entangling him in all this. If only he hadn't unknowingly gone to the hospital that day to see Liam during the artificial insemination process. If only…

"You forget that I have this town house, Dominic," she said, sounding more in control now. "I could sell it. Nicole and I could live on the proceeds."

Her voice drew him from his thoughts. "The town house is in my name, Cassandra. Liam deeded it over to me a month ago."

She lost more color. "Oh, God, he didn't want me to get any of it, did he?"

"No, he didn't."

Hurt flashed across her face so fast, he almost missed it. He allowed her that. Having a husband do this to you wouldn't be an easy thing to accept, no matter that she'd done the wrong thing by Liam in the first place.

Of course, she'd never loved Liam. She'd proven that when she'd pushed him to go home to their parents' house to die, rather than letting him die in his own home with his wife beside him. As it should be. Oh, she'd acted like she'd been there for him until the end, and she'd cried after it was over, but a truly grieving widow? He didn't believe so.

"I'll say he wasn't in his right mind," she said, desperate now.

"His lawyer will attest to the opposite."

More panic flared in her eyes. "What's to stop me from marrying you, then getting the money and walking away?"

Dominic knew it was time to wrap this up. He didn't want to see this woman beg—not unless it was in the bedroom. At the thought, he could hear the blood fighting through his veins to get to her, like it always did.

It gave him the impetus to say what needed to be said. She was the mother of a nine-month-old Roth child—a child who was right now asleep in the bedroom and had no idea of what was going on out here in the living room with the adults. And whether either he or Cassandra liked it or not, this had to be done.

"If you don't marry me, or you marry me and then ask for a divorce, I'll fight for custody of Nicole."

She swayed a little and flopped back down on the sofa, closing her eyes. He went to go to her, then stopped. He had no doubt she loved her child now. It was her one and only saving grace, regardless that Liam had told him she hadn't wanted a baby at first. But he had to remember he was fighting for the rights of that child. Nicole deserved to be brought up a Roth.

If only he could put paid to all this by telling Cassandra the truth about her daughter. But dammit, he couldn't say a word. Not until the time was right. He'd promised Liam he'd keep the secret to himself until Nicole's future was cemented, and only after he and Cassandra were married. And then there were his parents to consider. He had to wait until their grief eased before he dumped another bombshell on them.

"Look around you," he said, letting his gaze sweep the magnificent living room. "You and Nicole are living a first-class lifestyle. You don't think a judge couldn't be persuaded that money and privilege aren't your child's right?"

All at once she had a fierce look about her. "A mother's love is more important."

"Yes, if you get a judge who believes love comes before the rest. Regardless of that, a wife who could be unfaithful to her husband would make the judge question that woman's morals, don't you think?"

"But I wasn't unfaithful," she said, turning pale.

"Save it for the judge, Cassandra."

She winced. He could see her balancing it all up. Then, "This is absurd," she burst out.

"I agree, but it's what Liam wanted, and as far as I'm concerned, I'm going to make sure my brother's dying wish is fulfilled."

His words hung in the air.

Then she shot him a penetrating look, bouncing back, like he knew she would. "Tell me, Dominic. What do you get out of all this if I marry you, besides a wife who doesn't love you or a child that isn't yours?"

His heart lurched. "I'll get the satisfaction of knowing my niece has a father."

"Why you? Why not Adam?"

Thoughts of her and Adam together were not pleasant. He loved his other brother, but Adam wasn't planning on getting married again, not after his wife died a few years ago in a car accident. Besides, he wasn't willing to share. It had been hard enough ignoring his lust for Cassandra as Liam's wife. He wouldn't go through that again. If marriage was the only option—and it was—then it would be with him.

"I'm the oldest. I'll do what's necessary."

Her cheeks took on some color, though whether through anger or embarrassment he couldn't tell. "There's something you've forgotten, Dominic. What about your parents?"

"They've lost a precious son, and now they'll have the chance to keep their grandchild in their lives. I think they'll understand, don't you?"

She blanched. "But they don't even like me."

"You did the wrong thing by their son. You expect they would? "

Her chin went up. "I married your brother for love, Dominic. Nothing else."

"Sure," he mocked.

She gave him one of her cool looks. "You've always thought I married him for his money, haven't you?"

"Not merely his money. There are a lot more things that go with being a Roth."

Her mouth took on a cynical twist. "Oh, I see. I was fostered, then adopted as a child, so automatically that makes me want what you have?" Her eyes held steady. "I thought you were more intelligent than that."

The comment stung. "My intelligence isn't at stake here."

"No, my future is, and that of my daughter's."

He hardened his heart. "It's only your daughter's future I'm concerned with."

"Thanks very much. Perhaps I should just hand her over and leave you to it?" she choked out.

Anger filled him. "You would do that?"

"Of course not!"

His heart settled, and then he recognized it was a real possibility. "How about a cool million for her?"

"Don't insult me, Dominic."

"Too low?"

She looked wounded but recovered. "This is my daughter, and I intend to keep her. Nicole comes first. She needs her mother. And I need her."

Relief filled him. He could handle knowing this woman was a gold digger and an adulterer, but the possibility of a child finding out her mother had given her away was something else.

"Then it's marriage or nothing," he stated firmly.

She looked down at the letter in her hand and swallowed. "I—"

"Yes or no, Cassandra?"

Seconds lapsed.

She took a ragged breath and lifted her head. "It looks like I don't have a choice."

"Neither do I, but this isn't about us."

"No, it's about my daughter, and she's the only reason I'll marry you, Dominic."

He smiled cynically. "Are you trying to dent my ego?"

"I haven't got a big enough jackhammer for that."

His lips twitched despite himself, and her mouth curved a hint and suddenly he was aware it wasn't the jackhammer he had to worry about. It was that wispy little smile he'd seen on those soft lips. Lips he intended to kiss one day soon.

"I'll make the arrangements," he said brusquely and strode from the house without another word. He had to remember that his younger brother had been sucker punched by this woman's beauty. Liam had given her the Roth name, a luxurious town house, furs, expensive jewelry, and she'd taken it all without a qualm.

Sure, she had come through for Liam and had proceeded with giving him the one thing he'd desperately wanted before he died—a child with whom to leave something of himself behind. But had it really been such a sacrifice? She would have known she was set for life by having a Roth child.

Of course, what she didn't know was that Liam's blood ties to his oldest brother had won out over conscience in the end. Blood ties through Nicole.

And one day Cassandra would have to know the truth. That the daughter she thought was her late husband's was actually his.

Cassandra stayed sitting long after her brother-in-law left, thankful Nicole was taking her afternoon nap.

The letter in her hand said it all.

Oh, God, how could Liam have done this to her? Liam, the man who'd totally swept her off her feet three years ago. A dashing young man who'd declared he'd fallen in love with her from the moment he'd seen her working behind the cosmetics counter at the Roth's flagship store in the city. He hadn't taken no for an answer. She wished he had.

Cassandra, forgive me for doing this, but I have no choice. I want Nicole to be raised a Roth.

Their marriage had been a sham almost from the start. She'd loved him, but Liam had wanted only a trophy wife and hadn't really loved her beyond her looks. He'd showered her with presents, but it had all been about putting her on display.

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HIGH-SOCIETY SEDUCTION by Maxine Sullivan

HIGH-SOCIETY SEDUCTION by Maxine Sullivan

A question of lust or loyalty....

He needed a mistress. A pretend mistress, that is. So when Jenna Branson confronted playboy billionaire Adam Roth, demanding he return money his brother stole from her family, Adam saw his opportunity. He'd look into her accusations, but she must act as though they're involved - intimately. Anything to rid himself of the unwanted attention of his best friend's wife. The proposition seemed simple, but soon their game of seduction was no longer just for show. Then a high-stakes confrontation forced them to choose between family loyalty...and the chance of forever.

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Excerpt:

"And this is Jenna Branson. She's one of our up-and-coming jewelry designers."

Jenna heard her boss's words, thankful that at least she'd had time to recover from her shock. Having Adam Roth walk into the Conti corporate box at Australia's Flemington Racecourse a few minutes ago had stunned her.

Oh, God! she'd thought. Here was the middle son of Laura and Michael Roth, iconic owners of Roth's, the luxury-goods department stores. His family was Australia's aristocracy. The crème de la crème of Australian society. She'd never wanted to meet any one of them. Not after what Liam Roth had done to her brother.

She watched in silent horror now as this Roth family member lowered his tall, lean body onto the chair opposite. His gaze came straight at her across the table, homing in like she was the only person in the room. She hid a small gasp as his pair of blue eyes trapped hers for a heart-stopping moment in time.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Jenna," he murmured, his gaze taking in her lustrous, shoulder-length brown hair, then the details of her face, before sliding down to the soft floral dress she knew looked good on her. For the first time ever, she actually wished she didn't look quite so feminine.

Jenna tried to smile, but she wasn't sure if she managed it. "Yes, you, too," she somehow said, hoping she sounded sincere but almost choking on the words. Why, oh, why had she given in to pressure and come here today? If only her boss, Roberto, and his charming wife, Carmen, hadn't been so insistent. She would have much preferred to spend her Saturday relaxing in her apartment.

"Have you backed any winners yet?" Adam asked in a smooth voice that was as cultured as it was deep.

She tried to settle her heart back in place. "Not so far."

He smiled the confident smile of a man who knew women. "Then perhaps your luck will change."

If he thought he was going to change her luck, he was in for a surprise. "Perhaps."

Just then her boss's son returned to the table and sat down next to her, almost making her shudder, giving her something else to worry about. Marco had been asking her out for months. Now he thought he'd worn her down. Nothing could be further from the truth.

"You didn't bring a date?" he said to Adam, after a short greeting.

"No. Not this time."

"That's not like you, amico mio," he joked, but he slid his arm along the back of Jenna's chair as if silently staking a claim.

A note of awareness docked in Adam's eyes, sending an odd ripple of apprehension shooting down her spine. She didn't want either man thinking she was here with Marco. Nor did she want either one thinking she was available for some sort of dalliance.

Unfortunately, as the afternoon wore on, she was fully aware of Adam surreptitiously watching her every movement. She tried her damnedest not to react, but his interest was a living thing. It made her uneasy, though not in a sleazy way like with her boss's son. Adam Roth was a playboy. A sophisticated master playboy, despite being a widower whose wife had died in a car accident over four years ago. She had no doubt he knew all the right moves.

One thing saved her. Her brother. Remembering what Stewart had been through gave her the advantage. She knew what this man's family was capable of, and that helped put up an invisible barrier to deflect any attempt at intimacy.

By the time they'd finished eating a late lunch, she was more than ready to make an escape to the powder room. Thankfully, Marco was involved in watching the next race with another woman and her generous cleavage. So while everyone was occupied Jenna grabbed her purse to slip out of the room, her heartbeat stuttering when she saw Adam notice her leaving.

Once in the corridor she hurried along the plush carpet to find the ladies' room. She had a feeling he would follow. That he was about to ask her out. She didn't want that, she decided as she found what she was looking for just ahead. She reached for the door handle…started to open it…

"Jenna."

She stilled, tempted to ignore him and go inside the room but suspected he would merely wait for her to come out. Taking a deep breath, she dropped her hand and turned around to face him.

Adam was right behind her, his proximity surprising her, causing her knees to wobble. He reached out to cup her elbows and steady her. At his touch the sound of the race caller outside wound down to a mere whisper, and the excitement of the guests cheering their horses along the final stretch muted to low volume, making her forget everything else for a moment.

Then his eyes warmed and his firm lips spread into a sensual smile that promised to take her places she'd never been. "I think you'll find that's not what you want," he drawled, his voice a hot whisper along her spine.

She blinked. "It…isn't?"

He indicated the sign on the door. "That's a storeroom."

"Oh." In her hurry, she hadn't noticed. Her mind had been focused on getting away from him. She pulled back and he dropped his hands. He was still too close.

If she'd had time to think, she would have felt foolish for rushing and making such a mistake. As it was, she half turned to take a quick look down the corridor hoping to see the ladies' room and still make her escape in the next few seconds.

But then a thought flashed through her mind. Wasn't she crazy to walk away when she had a Roth right here in front of her? Wouldn't swallowing her pride and confronting this man be a small price to pay? She'd been praying for a way to help her brother and now she had it. Heck, she had to do something to help Stewart.

Taking a deep breath, Jenna opened her mouth to speak, but shut it again as a young woman walked by. A hallway wasn't the place to talk about a private matter.

Instead, she gestured to the storeroom. "Do you think I could have a word alone with you?"

The oddest gleam entered his eyes. "In there?"

"Yes." She had to talk to him. Now. If she wasn't quick enough, the opportunity would pass. "Please."

Adam didn't move. He had a strange look about him. As if he were…disappointed in her.

He shook his head. "Sorry, beautiful. You're stunning, and I must admit I'm very tempted, but a quick grope in a broom cupboard isn't my thing. I prefer to wine and dine a woman first."

She gaped at him. "Wh-what?"

He assessed her with a touch of regret. "No doubt many a man would be pleased to make you their own on such short acquaintance, but I find a little romance is more…satisfying." He went to turn back to the function rooms. "I was going to ask you out, but—"

She pulled herself together in time to grab his arm. "You think I'm after sex?" she hissed, totally insulted. "I can assure you that's the last thing on my mind."

His gaze darted down to her hand on his sleeve, then up again but she refused to let go in spite of feeling the muscle beneath her palm.

"I really do need to speak to you. I prefer we do it in private…." She swallowed, then dared to threaten, "But I can do it just as well in front of an audience."

A cool look entered his eyes. "Seeing how we only met a few hours ago, I can't imagine you'd have anything of importance to say to me."

She continued her grip on his arm. "Then you'd be wrong."

There was a measured silence. "Did you engineer this meeting today?"

"No. But that doesn't mean I don't have a valid complaint about your family."

"My family?" he said, stiffening.

"Perhaps you'll let me explain in private."

There was a pause. He inclined his head. "Very well."

At his reluctant acquiescence, she finally dropped her hand, letting out a silent sigh of relief, but aware this was only the first step.

Adam reached past her and pushed open the door, indicat ing she should precede him into the room. He was all business now, making it clear he had nothing else on his mind. Once inside he closed the door and positioned himself in front of it. "Okay, talk."

She realized her mistake in not getting him go first into the room. She had no escape now, only a large frosted window that gave a false impression of freedom—and a short distance between her and her inadvertent captor. Oh, God, what on earth was she doing?

Then she made herself remember her brother's anguish. And that gave her the courage to press onward. She drew back her shoulders. "I want you to give my brother the money your brother Liam conned out of him."

He froze, then, "Rewind that and play it again. Slowly this time."

Oh, this man was good at keeping his cool—very good—but he'd probably had plenty of experience covering up for his late brother. Many times he would have had to lie to the people Liam Roth had duped over the years.

"I expected you to deny it. The Roths stick together." Stewart had told her that and she had no reason not to believe him. The rich and privileged always seemed to get away with everything. Her ex-boyfriend, Lewis, had been the same, though he was nowhere near equal to the Roths. He'd thought his money had entitled him to do whatever he liked—including cheating on her.

Adam Roth's eyes flickered with annoyance. "I can't deny something if I don't know the details," he said curtly,

bringing her back to the present. His brows jerked together. "Who's your brother anyway?"

"Stewart Branson."

His expression gave nothing away. "Am I supposed to know him?" He didn't give her time to answer. "I'm afraid you're talking to the wrong guy, sweetheart. My family has nothing to do with this."

She was annoyed by his instant dismissal. "I know what my brother told me."

His jaw set. "I'd like to hear exactly what he said."

Jenna let out a slow breath, relieved he was at least willing to keep listening. "Six weeks ago there was a segment on the news about your parents attending an Australia Day dinner. They showed footage from Liam's funeral." Adam's younger brother had died from a terminal illness in early December.

He didn't move. "Go on."

"Stewart had dropped by my apartment. He looked terrible. I was just about to ask him what was wrong when he looked at the television and saw the funeral procession and broke down. He said your brother had tricked him into giving him a large sum of money he could ill afford." She could still remember how appalled she'd been at what she'd learned.

"Liam wouldn't do that."

"I'm afraid he did," she said with total conviction.

"He had his own money. He didn't need anyone else's."

She tilted her head. "Didn't he invest in a failed theme park up north?" It had been in all the papers recently. She even remembered Liam's name in particular because of his death.

Now, that appeared to get Adam Roth's attention.

"Go on."

The air was tight with tension, but Jenna couldn't let trepidation get to her. "Around two years ago Stewart met Liam at a function and—"

"What function?" Adam fired at her.

She tried to think, but it was hard with him staring her down like this. "I don't know. Stewart didn't say."

Adam's brows drew together, then he murmured, "That's around the time my brother found out he was sick."

"I know," she said quietly, feeling bad for bringing all this up again. "But that doesn't change anything. Your brother still took the money."

His mouth flattened. "I'm not convinced."

Jenna hated this. As far as she was concerned she shouldn't have to convince him of anything. It just was.

"I believe they discussed the theme park venture and Liam assured him it would be no risk. Foolishly, Stewart used his house as collateral and gave him three hundred thousand dollars."

Adam gave a harsh laugh. "Three hundred thousand? And he handed it over without question?"

"Stewart trusted your brother," she said, her teeth setting on edge. "I mean, he's a Roth, right? Your family's integrity is supposed to be beyond question."

"It is beyond question." His whole demeanor said she'd offended him.

"So where's my brother's money then? They were supposed to start building the theme park six months ago, only there were delays on top of delays. Finally the company went bust, as you would know." It was in the media. No one could have missed it, nor the fact that Liam had been one of the investors, notwithstanding being terminally ill at the time. "My brother believes that Liam took the money under false pretenses, and so do I. Your family owes it to Stewart to repay the full amount."

His gaze sliced over her. "Where's your brother now?"

"He's an architect. He's gone off to the Middle East to try and earn some fast money so he won't lose his family home. Fortunately, he's managed to keep up his house payments until recently, but now…" Her heart constricted with pain. "And he's got a wife and two small children who are missing him badly. They want him home, but he won't return until he has enough to keep the bank happy and to stop him from losing the house."

The worst thing for Jenna was not being able to talk to anyone about this. She'd been keeping it all to herself. Both her parents and Stewart's wife thought he'd simply gone overseas to pay off his house sooner. Poor Vicki had no idea she was at risk of losing their gorgeous family home of which she was so proud.

"Why didn't he come to me himself?" Adam asked. "Surely you shouldn't have to do your brother's dirty work for him?"

She didn't appreciate his tone. "Stewart said it was no use talking to your family about it because you'd close ranks anyway." She studied his hostility. "I see what he means." Stewart had been a total mess that day at her place, and she wouldn't have him worrying over her involvement in this now. She'd get it sorted first.

He fixed her with an intense stare. "There's a legal system in place to protect him. Has he started proceedings?"

"How can he do that? He doesn't have the money. And besides, he had to find a way to stop his wife and children from being thrown out on the street now. Once he gets that sorted, you can bet he'll be back to take you to court." Her lips twisted. "Not that it would do him much good. No doubt your legal team will find a way to evade paying up in the end."

A muscle ticked in his cheekbone. "I don't take kindly to insults to my family."

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TAMING HER BILLIONAIRE BOSS by Maxine Sullivan

TAMING HER BILLIONAIRE BOSS by Maxine Sullivan

Secret Crush, Public Seduction

No one quit on Blake Jarrod! So when his devoted assistant suddenly turned in her resignation, the hotelier wanted answers. But Samantha Thompson wasn't talking. Turning her two-weeks' notice into four, Blake gave himself one month to seduce the truth from her. And despite his rule about business and pleasure never mixing, Blake intended to make the most of his endeavor...

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Excerpt:

"What are you doing in here?"

Samantha Thompson almost dropped her pen as her head snapped up, the desk lamp shedding enough light for her to see the handsome man standing in the doorway. "Blake, you scared me!"

Her heart didn't settle down once she knew who it was, it only increased pace as she looked at him in a dinner suit that fitted his well-toned body flawlessly. His commanding presence was of a man born to lead. This was Blake Jarrod, owner of Blake Jarrod Enterprises' Las Vegas hotels, and now the new CEO of Jarrod Ridge, his family's renowned resort in Aspen, Colorado.

And as his assistant of two years there was nothing unusual about her being in his office at ten at night. Just because they were now in Aspen at the Jarrod Manor and she was using the desk in his late father's office didn't change a thing. She had her reasons for being here.

And they concerned her boss.

Or soon-to-be-ex boss.

"It's late," he said, cutting across her thoughts in the way he usually did.

She took a steadying breath and looked down at the letter in front of her, giving herself one last chance to change her mind. Then she remembered this evening. The final straw had been watching a famous blonde actress flirt outrageously with Blake, and him sitting there enjoying it, taking it as his due.

Samantha couldn't blame him for wanting to sample what was on offer if he so chose. It was just that she wanted a little taste of him herself. She usually dressed sedately in finely tailored clothes whether she was in Vegas with Blake or here in Aspen, but tonight she'd outdone herself. She'd worn this slinky cream evening dress designed to grab his attention, putting her long, brunette hair up in a chignon when she usually wore it pulled back at the nape with a barrette, but it was clear now that nothing was going to happen between her and Blake.

It was never going to happen.

She'd realized that when he'd caught her eye and she'd smiled for all she was worth, looked the best she could be, and he'd turned back to the actress without a second glance, rejecting her just like Carl had rejected her. Her moment of epiphany had been that simple. She'd come to a decision then. The right decision for her. The only one for her.

She lifted her gaze. "Yes, it's late, Blake."

Too late.

He walked toward the desk, almost as if he sensed something wasn't quite right. "I thought you said you were going back to Pine Lodge."

That had been her intention. She'd even stood in the lobby of the manor, her coat resting on her shoulders, waiting beside the doorman for the valet to bring the SUV around. She'd been determined to go back to their private lodge at the resort—she in her own room and Blake in the master suite.

Then someone had entered the hotel and the doors had slid open, and the cold night breeze from a midfall wind had slapped her in the face and chilled her to the bone, reminding her that it didn't matter what she wore or what she did, her boss would never take any notice of her except as his assistant. She'd spun around and headed for the private elevator, coming up here to the office in the family section of the manor.

"I needed to do something first," she said now.

There was an alert look to his eyes. "It's Friday night. Work can wait until tomorrow."

They'd been working every Saturday, trying to keep on top of things until they moved here permanently. And now that wasn't going to happen. Not for her anyway. "This can't wait."

He paused, those blue eyes narrowing in on her. "What can't?"

She swallowed hard. "My resignation."

Shock flashed in his eyes then went out like it had never been. "What are you talking about?" he said, his voice quiet. In control. He was always in control, especially where she was concerned.

"It's time for me to move on, Blake. That's all."

"Why?"

The question shot at her like a pellet but she managed to shrug. "It just is."

He put his hands on the desk and leaned toward her. "What's this about, Samantha? What's the real reason you want to leave?"

She'd faced him down over business issues occasionally but this…this was personal. Cautiously, she pushed the leather chair back and rose on her stilettos, then went to look out the large arched window behind her.

The scene below at the luxurious resort was surprisingly charming in October. Tonight, pocketed in amongst the tall peaks, the sleepy hamlet twinkled like fairy lights in the alpine breeze, a tapestry of winding streets, lodges, and village square. To a southern California girl who now lived in Vegas, this place had something nowhere else seemed to have.

It had heart.

"It's time for me to go," she said, keeping her back to him.

"You're unhappy here?"

"No!" she blurted out, swinging around, then winced inwardly, knowing she sounded contradictory and that he'd have to wonder why.

To be truthful, she'd been feeling slightly down ever since Blake's sister Melissa had announced her pregnancy a few weeks ago. She'd been happy for Melissa, so why it had bothered her she didn't know. Yet since then she hadn't been able to shake a feeling of being slightly depressed.

He'd straightened away from the desk. "So what's the problem?"

You are.

I want you to notice me.

Dammit, I just want you.

But how did you say that to a man who didn't even notice you as a woman? She was his trusted assistant and that was about it. She'd never acted overtly female around him. She kept everything businesslike between them. Looking back, perhaps occasionally she should have let her feminine side show. If she had, then perhaps now she might not be in this predicament.

Yet it wasn't that she was in love with him either. She was intensely attracted to him. He was an exciting, charismatic man who effortlessly charmed women like they were going out of fashion, but he was still discerning in whom he took to his bed.

She wanted to be charmed by him.

She wanted to be in his bed and in his arms.

Oh, God, it truly was hitting home that she'd never be in his spotlight. Until now a glimmer of hope had kept her going, but after his subconscious rejection of her tonight, she'd realized that if he knew her feelings about wanting him, then everything would change. She'd be totally embarrassed and so would he. She couldn't work like that. She'd be humiliated just like she'd been with Carl. It was better to leave with some dignity.

"Samantha?"

Hearing her name on his lips struck her like never before. She tilted her head at him. "Do you know something, Blake? You've never called me Sam. Not once. It's always Samantha."

His brows drew together. "What's that got to do with it?"

Everything.

She wanted to be Sam once in a while. Sam the woman who'd left her ordinary upbringing in Pasadena to embrace the excitement of Vegas after a one-sided love affair gone wrong. The woman who wanted to have a purely physical affair with a man she admired, without ever risking her heart again. Not Samantha the personal assistant who helped run his office and his life and who kept the whole lot in check for him, all nice and neat and tidy, just the way he liked it. She couldn't believe she'd actually thought she'd had a chance with him.

And he was waiting for an answer.

"I have my reasons for resigning and I think that's all you need to know."

"Is someone giving you a hard time?" he asked sharply. "Someone from my family? I'll talk to them if they are. Tell me."

She shook her head. "Your family's great. It's…" She hesitated, wishing she'd given herself time to come up with a suitable explanation. Needless to say, she hadn't expected to be here tonight writing out her resignation, or that he'd even come upon her. She'd assumed he'd probably go off nightclubbing with Miss Hollywood. "I simply want something more, okay? It's nothing against you or your family. This is about me."

One eyebrow rose. "You want something more than first-class travel and a world-class place to live?"

"Yes." She had to tread carefully. "Actually I'm thinking of going home to Pasadena for a little while," she fibbed, then realized that wasn't such a bad idea after all. "Just until I decide what I want to do next."

"And that will give you more of what you want? I seem to remember you saying you'd left Pasadena because you'd been looking for more excitement."

She'd definitely said that—and she had been looking for more than weekly piano lessons and weekend shopping with her girlfriends—but it had been so much more four years ago. Having fallen in love with a young architect who'd gone off to travel the world after she'd told him she loved him, she'd decided to find her own excitement. Her job with Blake had provided that excitement without any emotional involvement. Until now. And even now it was about lust, not love.

His eyes pierced the distance between them. "You seemed happy enough before the move to Aspen."

"I was… I am… I mean…" Oh, heck. She was getting herself tied up in knots. When Blake said he was moving back home and she should come with him, she'd been delighted. His estranged father's will had stated all the Jarrod offspring had to return to Jarrod Ridge for a year or lose their inheritance. Blake, being the eldest—only by a few minutes ahead of his fraternal and more laidback twin, Guy—had taken up the challenge of running the resort.

She'd looked forward to it, too, and they'd been traveling back and forth between Aspen and Vegas a couple of times these past four months, getting everything sorted. Blake would keep his hotels but would spend most of his time in Aspen. She'd been very happy with that. Until tonight.

She cleared her throat. "All my family and friends are back in Pasadena. I miss them."

"I didn't know you had any friends."

She pulled a face. "Thanks very much."

There was a flicker of impatience. "You know what I mean. You're always working or traveling with me and rarely go home except for the holidays. Your friends have never been a priority before."

"I guess that's changed." Thankfully Carl had never returned and she'd heard he'd married an English girl. Of course, time and distance had only shown her that she hadn't really been in love with him at all. She'd been in love with the idea of being in love with a man who'd talked of adventure in far-off places. She'd thought they'd do that together. God, what was wrong with her that she kept wanting men who didn't want her?

He held her gaze. "What are you going to do after Pasadena, then?"

"I'm not sure. I'll find something. Perhaps even one of those rare friends of mine might help me get a job," she mocked. All she knew was that she wouldn't continue working for Blake, not in Aspen nor in Vegas. A clean break was needed.

He eyed her. "You have plenty of connections. You could use them."

All at once she had an ache in her throat. It sounded like he was beginning to accept her decision. And that more than anything showed he really didn't care about her. She was just another employee to him. Nothing more.

"I'm thinking I might get right away from this type of work."

"And do what? "

"I don't know." She took a breath. "In any case, I'd really like to leave Aspen as soon as possible, so that I can wrap up things in Vegas before going home. It shouldn't take more than a couple of days." She'd make sure it didn't.

He scanned her face. "You're not telling me everything," he said, sending her heart bumping against her ribs.

"There's nothing else to tell. I do have a life and a family away from you, Blake, as hard as that may be for you to believe." She couldn't take much more of this. Going over to the desk, she picked up the letter. "So I'd appreciate it if you would accept my resignation." She walked toward him. "Ideally I'd like to leave here as soon as possible. Tomorrow even." Reaching him, she held out the letter.

He didn't take it.

There was a measured silence, then, "No."

The breath stalled in her throat. "Wh-what?"

"No, I won't accept your letter of resignation and certainly not on such short notice. I need you here with me."

His words sent a jet of warmth through her until she remembered this evening. It had been torturous watching him and that actress flirt with each other. How could she stay and keep up the pretence that she didn't want Blake for herself?

She continued to hold the letter out to him. "I can't stay, Blake. I really need to leave."

Now.

Tomorrow.

Certainly no later than that.

He ignored the sheet of paper until she lowered her hand. "I'm the new CEO here, Samantha. It wouldn't be professional of you to leave me in the lurch like this."

She felt bad but it came down to emotional survival. "I know, but there are others quite capable of replacing me. Just contact a high-end employment agency. I'll even do it for you before I go. Someone else would love to work here in Jarrod Ridge. They could be here by Monday."

His mouth tightened. "No."

She lifted her chin. "I'm afraid you have no choice."

"I don't?" he said silkily, inching closer. "You can't quit without a month's notice. It's in your contract."

She sucked in a sharp breath. "Surely you could waive that for me? I've given you two years of my life, Blake, and I've done the job exceptionally well. I've been at your beck and call 24/7. I think you owe me this."

"If you insist on leaving before your contract is up then I'll see you in court." He gave a significant pause. "I don't think that would look good on your résumé, do you? "

"You wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't I?

"This is business," he continued. "Don't take it personally."

She almost choked then. That was the problem. Everything was business between them. Nothing was personal.

Her hands shook with anger as she began folding the letter in four. Then she leaned forward and tucked it into his jacket pocket. "Fine. You've got your month. Two weeks here and then two weeks back in Vegas to finish up. After that I'm leaving for Pasadena." She went to step past him.

In a flash he grabbed her arm and stopped her, looking down into her eyes. It was the first time he'd ever touched her with meaning and something passed between them. She saw his spark of surprise before he dropped her arm. It surprised her, too.

"I never take no for an answer, Samantha. Remember that."

"There's always the exception to every rule. And I'm it, Mr. Jarrod."

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