‘First you kiss me until I’m so damn hot I can’t see straight. Then you run off. And now you’re doing the whole damn thing all over again.’
He searched her face with an intensity that had heat flooding between her thighs. ‘Stop playing hard to get. There’s no need,’ he murmured, his lips a millimetre from hers. ‘Believe me, you’ve already got my full attention.’
She heard her own staggered gasp moments before his lips swooped down in a harsh, punishing kiss. Her fingers fisted convulsively in his shirt, but she could do nothing to resist the powerful, possessive strokes of his tongue. A tidal wave of raw, flaming need rose up from nowhere and cascaded through her. Her head fell back in surrender and his firm, insistent lips suckled the pulse-point in her neck.
‘Kiss me back,’ he urged in a strained whisper.
She lifted shaking arms, circled his neck and did as he asked, all thoughts of resistance gone as the bone-deep longing, the wild crazy thrill of exhilaration fizzed inside her like vintage champagne. Their tongues tangled in a frantic dance. A new, unknown power shimmered through her as he shuddered in response.
He tore his lips away, his breathing as ragged as hers. ‘No more games now. I came here tonight to have you. My hotel’s in the next valley. If we hurry we should be there in ten minutes.’
Dear Reader
I love it when I’m in the process of writing a book and a secondary character yells, ‘Hey, what about me? Don’t I deserve a story of my own?’ So I was chuffed to bits when Juno Delamare did exactly that as I was writing her best mate Daisy’s story in HOT-SHOT TYCOON, INDECENT PROPOSAL.
At the time, Juno didn’t even have a second name; she was just Daisy’s cautious, earnest, tomboy friend. Juno had been hurt badly once, and it had made her prickly and pessimistic and extremely wary of good-looking men. But her honesty, her fortitude and her emotional integrity instantly engaged me. And so, as Daisy’s story unfolded, Juno began to insist I find her a man of her own who could coax her out of her cocoon.
Then, lo and behold, Connor Brody—Daisy’s hero—mentioned he had a long-lost brother. Now, while at first this seemed a remarkably lucky coincidence, I quickly realised Juno had not had a man as dangerous as Mac Brody in mind when she had asked me to find her one true love. Would she be able to cope with this brooding Irish bad boy-turned-Hollywood star who had sealed off his heart at an early age and seduced women only to discard them the instant things got serious? And then I thought, What the hell? I’m the author here—not her. I’ll chuck Juno in at the deep end and see if she floats.
I hope you get the same kick out of watching her—and indeed Mac—struggle to survive the emotional tidal wave that promptly knocks them both flat. Feel free to let me know on [email protected]
Cheers
Heidi
Heidi Rice was born and bred and still lives in London, England. She has two boys who love to bicker, a wonderful husband who, luckily for everyone, has loads of patience, and a supportive and ever-growing British/French/Irish/American family. As much as Heidi adores ‘the Big Smoke’, she also loves America, and every two years or so she and her best friend leave hubby and kids behind and Thelma and Louise it across the States for a couple of weeks (although they always leave out the driving off a cliff bit). She’s been a film buff since her early teens, and a romance junkie for almost as long. She indulged her first love by being a film reviewer for ten years. Then two years ago she decided to spice up her life by writing romance. Discovering the fantastic sisterhood of romance writers (both published and unpublished) in Britain and America made it a wild and wonderful journey to her first Mills and Boon® novel, and she’s looking forward to many more to come.
Recent books by the same author:
HOT-SHOT TYCOON, INDECENT PROPOSAL
PLEASURE, PREGNANCY AND A PROPOSITION
THE TYCOON’S VERY PERSONAL ASSISTANT
PUBLIC AFFAIR, SECRETLY EXPECTING
BY
HEIDI RICE
MILLS & BOON
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To Suzy, for knowing when
a 600-mile road trip is not the way to go
And Daisy, a brilliant author and an even better friend.
Chapter One
STRUGGLING to control her galloping heartbeat, Juno Delamare scanned the arrivals screen at Heathrow’s bustling Terminal Five for details of Flight 155 from Los Angeles. The words ‘In the Arrivals Hall’ winked back at her and her heart stampeded into overdrive.
For goodness’ sake, woman. Get a grip.
Juno jammed her fists into the pockets of her newest jeans—which had a small tear at the knee where she’d been stacking shelves the day before—and took several deep breaths. She had to calm down. She was on a mission here, a very important mission, and she simply did not have time to have a heart attack—it would put a serious crimp in her plans.
When Hollywood heart-throb Mac Brody walked through the arrival gate, she intended to be ready—and in complete control of her faculties—so she could hand him his invitation to her best friend Daisy Dean’s wedding and make sure he agreed to come.
Daisy was marrying millionaire property developer Connor Brody in two weeks’ time and she’d set her heart on reuniting Connor with his long-lost brother at their wedding. So Juno had made it her mission to ensure said little brother came whether he wanted to or not.
How exactly she was going to get him to agree she hadn’t quite figured out yet. But she intended to give it her very best shot. Daisy had helped Juno put her life back together six years ago—when she’d thought she’d never be able to care about anything or anybody again—and she owed her.
Unfortunately, despite Juno’s heartfelt commitment to the cause, when she’d made her secret vow two weeks ago to get Mac Brody to Daisy and Connor’s wedding she hadn’t given a whole lot of thought to the logistics. But now, as zero hour approached in Heathrow’s imposing terminal, the logistics were beginning to choke her.
What if she failed? What if he travelled with a phalanx of bodyguards and she couldn’t get near him? What if he refused to take the invitation if she did get near him? And then there was the coup de grâce. When was the last time she’d even approached a strange man, let alone tried to persuade him to do something? Her powers of persuasion were less than nil where men were concerned.
She didn’t do seduction—she didn’t have the looks, the aptitude or indeed the wardrobe for it. Which meant she would have to appeal to Mac Brody’s better nature. But on the evidence so far, he didn’t have one.
Maybe