Red Hot Lovers: 18 Contemporary Romance Books of Love, Passion, and Sexy Heroes by Your Favorite Top-Selling Authors
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She’d even started to make some lovely friendships. Evan had introduced her to Karen Miller, who had temporarily moved to Toronto to study library science, but had trusted Beth to organize her wedding. Karen’s now husband, Paul Reynolds, one of the OPP constables at the local detachment was another friendly face, and through them she’d gotten to know Evie and Carrie.
A little girl talk would be the perfect antidote to the ridiculous rage storm Finn conjured in her soul. First she’d pop in to see Evie, then head to Bun for yet another coffee.
But she didn’t need to go as far as the studio out of the door stepped the blonde owner.
“Evie!” Beth waved the canvas folder in her direction. “Liam asked me to give this to you.”
The other woman laughed. “He sent me a text. Can I buy you a coffee in thanks?”
“You read my mind. You’ve got time?”
Evie nodded. “Stella’s teaching the next class.”
Carrie’s younger cousin had helped Evie at the studio across her pregnancy and when she couldn’t teach classes immediately after Ava was born. “So she’s still working for you?”
Evie winced. “Yeah. I can’t really afford her for as many classes as she’s teaching, but she’s awesome. I don’t want to cut her back, because if she gets a full-time job, then I’m screwed.”
Beth could commiserate. Managing casual staff herself, she knew someone leaving for greener pastures was a constant concern. “What kind of work is she looking for? I’m always looking for competent people to help at events.” She dug a business card out of her purse. “If you don’t mind sharing, tell her to send me a résumé.”
“I don’t mind at all, thank you!” Evie grinned. “I’m so glad you came into town.”
Beth rolled her eyes. “I didn’t have a choice. I needed to get away from work.”
“Evan?” Evie sighed. “I know he can be…difficult.”
Beth didn’t know the whole backstory, but Evie and her boss had dated in high school. Beth was pretty sure her friend had been Evan’s last girlfriend before he came out of the closet. They still seemed close. “He can, but he’s away this week.”
Evie pulled open the door to Bun. Carrie was refilling the muffin trays and Feist was playing out of the overhead speakers. For once, the place was empty.
“Carrie, this woman needs some cheering up—make her a latte!”
Beth groaned. “Actually, I’ve had enough coffee for one day. I’ll take a green tea instead.”
Evie twirled her fingers indicating Carrie should make two, which she did. As she slid them across the counter, she narrowed her eyes at Beth. “Did you end up drinking both coffees you bought this morning?”
She made a face. “No. It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got time,” Evie said with an evil grin.
Beth couldn’t help but laugh and then she gave them a brief rundown. The more confusing parts of Finn’s behaviour she kept to herself.
Evie spoke first. “Finn Howard? I met him at the Networking Essex County luncheon last month. He seemed nice.”
“He is nice.” Carrie grinned. “To everyone except Beth. There’s something about her that drives him mental.”
“I bet it’s your boobs.” Evie brazenly gave her a once-over, and Beth crossed her arms over her chest, eliciting laughs from her friends. “Seriously, I’ve got cleavage envy. You know what’s a total lie? That nursing makes your boobs bigger.”
Carrie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, for the first few weeks when that’s the last thing that you want. After that…” She blew a raspberry and gestured downwards with her hands.
Beth had enough friends with kids that this wasn’t new information. That she didn’t have firsthand experience…her ovaries rata-tat-tatted in her lower belly. She cleared her throat, refocusing herself and her friends. “My boobs don’t drive him mental.” Although I’m starting to wonder if the man has a mouth fetish. “It’s just me. We’re like oil and water. He hates all of my ideas. It’s like he goes out of his way to be contrary.”
Evie made a silent oh with her mouth and nodded sagely. “He’s pulling your pig-tails.”
So much for wisdom. “No. Finn hates me.”
“It’s a fine line between love and hate,” Evie mused.
Beth rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on! You and Liam are like the perfect couple. I bet you never fight.”
“Fight? No, that’s not our style. I’m more of the cold-shoulder type. We snipe sometimes, though.” She pointed across the counter at her redheaded friend. “But Carrie and Ian? They go at it like cats and dogs.”
“You’re missing out.” Carrie laughed. “Make up sex is where it’s at.”
Beth had seen Ian pissed off one minute and hauling Carrie in for an X-rated kiss the next. She believed it. The Nixons had the type of passion country music songs were written about.
She’d take either kind of love, but she definitely wanted love. Not pigtail pulling from a man who couldn’t see the harm in winding up old and alone. Who might want to stare at her mouth, and her legs when he thought she wasn’t looking, but couldn’t find three nice sentences to string together.
That’s why she’d ditched lunch and gone with Peter instead. She needed to give nice another try. Nice would satisfy the ache in her ovaries, even if her heart would need some convincing to come around.
***
CHAPTER THREE
Finn watched Beth flip through the portfolio he’d slid across her desk five minutes earlier. She’d scratched a few notes here and there on Post-its but gave no hint as to her overall reaction.
It had been two weeks since their tense standoff in her office and they’d both retreated to their proverbial corners. Exchanges had been brief and professional, giving him lots of time to get the job done. Now that he’d laid out a blueprint for promotion and marketing, his day-to-day involvement at the winery could come to an end.
Disappointment wasn’t his usual reaction to wrapping up a successful project. He watched—weak-ass way of saying he stared—as Beth absentmindedly twirled a long strand of dark hair around her finger. Her brows pulled together and she bit her lip, and he wanted to reach out and tug the soft, plump skin from between her teeth. Maybe replace it with his thumb. Press her mouth open and tease the pink point of her tongue. Call her a good girl and watch fire light up her eyes—
“Tell me about the event calendar.”
His dirty thoughts stuttered to a halt. He cleared his throat and tried to focus. Who cared about marketing notes when his every fantasy sat across the desk and twirled a pen? “I’ve added the WECGA events in green. Those booth fees have been paid for, so it would be a minimal expense to send staff for part of the weekend. The bigger wineries do this, and it’s time Go West joined their ranks.”
“This is good, but it’s too much.” She blinked twice and rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead. He could see the conflict battling in her mind. Visibility. He’d heard her concerns and put together a plan that satisfied that goal and also meshed with Evan and Ty’s vision for their company. “We have a wedding with site tours next weekend. There’s no way we can handle both the Windsor Wine and Cheese show and this new event in Toronto as well.”
His gaze flicked to the paper in her hand, then back to her face. “Which one do you want me to do?”
She shook her head. “That’s not your role. And whatever outrageous fee you’re charging Evan is way above the fifteen an hour I pay my part-timers.”
He leaned forward, bracing his arms against her desk. “I’ll eat the time as a goodwill gesture.”
“I didn’t think you believed in goodwill.” Her eyes flashed with hungry fight. She was pissed because it would be hard, not because it was wrong.
He forced calm into his response. “I thought we’d moved past the barbed statements, Beth.”
“Force of habit, I apologize.” But instead of the words floating out with the breezy conviction she probably intended, her voice warbled with ho
nest regret and he wanted to kiss the fight right out of her. It wasn’t her way—it was his. He made her like this and she hated it. “But you still don’t need to do me any favours.”
“Would it make you feel better if I told you I have an ulterior motive?” He pushed away from her desk and shoved his hands in his pockets, sweeping his suit jacket out of the way.
“And what would that be?”
Could he trust her? He knew her first reaction wouldn’t be good. But he could push past that. Break through the crap between them and finally put it all on the table.
“I’m starting my own business. A consulting firm.”
*
“A consulting firm.” She repeated the words slowly, rolling them over in her mouth. She didn’t like the way they tasted. Like duplicity, an unexpected sourness. “So this—” she tossed the portfolio on the desk “—was what, a test project? An example of your work to show potential clients?” She barely held back a sneer. “I’m sure Evan will provide you with a positive reference.”
He dipped his head, his gaze hooded but still pinned on her. “And you wouldn’t?”
“I can’t be objective. I’d refer all calls to Evan, though. I wouldn’t say anything negative.”
“But you think negatively of me?” He was a hard man, made of steel, but something in his words grabbed her attention. Like her opinion mattered.
She licked her lips. Did he bump into the thermometer on his way in? It was suddenly a million degrees in her office. “Our tendency toward conflict—”
“Has nothing to do with work.” Rough, vibrating honesty.
Liquid panic flooded her body. She couldn’t handle a truthful exploration of the impossible messiness between them. She’d built a mansion in Denialville and never planned to move out. “I don’t think negatively of you.” Her words flowed fast, spurred by fear and desperate self-preservation. “We’re very different, that’s all.”
“So this tension simmering between us—you chalk that up to personality conflict?” He shrugged out of his jacket and folded it over the back of a chair. He moved with fluid grace, suddenly reminding her of a panther, right down to the dark shiny hair and predator eyes.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He stalked around her desk and held out his hand. How was he not shaking? She was a leaf in the wind, and his large hand with those beautiful long fingers held steady in her swimming vision. “Stand up.”
She shook her head, unable to respond.
“Beth.” Oh god, her name on his tongue was magic, and she watched herself reach out and slide her fingers against his. “We just need to get this out of our systems.”
She shook her head, even as he tugged her out of her chair and shifted her so she was sitting on the edge of her desk. “You’ve gone mad.”
“Absolutely.” He nodded and reached out to brush her hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered there, tracing the curving cartilage to the soft lobe. “You always wear the most distracting earrings. I like these, but the sparkly green ones on Thursday were probably my favourite.”
Flip. Her internal organs rioted, not giving two figs if her head thought this was a terrible idea. She tilted her head, showing him the long stretch of her neck. Practically begging him to touch her there, and he obliged, trailing his fingers down to her collarbone and then back up again, lifting her chin. She swallowed. “You notice my earrings.”
“I notice everything about you, Beth. At first it was your legs and your smile. Then your laugh. I’ve wanted to kiss you since the day I met you.”
She wanted to ask why he hadn’t, but as quickly as the question slipped into her head, the answer followed. Because he’d realized they wouldn’t be good together. Those personality differences did matter, and just like that, all those heady endorphins lost their magical effect.
But he was right in front of her, and from the look in his eyes he knew she was about to run—and he wasn’t going to let her.
“There’s a reason we went in the direction we did, Finn.” She straightened her spine. “Attraction is just one factor, and all others indicate this is a terrible idea.”
“It’s the most important factor, though. And this isn’t just attraction.” He lowered his voice to a near whisper, his words licking against her skin. “It’s chemistry. I’ve tried to fight it, for all the reasons I’m sure you’d love to hide behind. But the truth is, I want to kiss you more than I’ve ever wanted to kiss anyone and that’s not going away.”
“We don’t always get what we want.” I’m not going to get gorgeous dark haired, grey-eyed toddlers. I’m going to end up with a broken heart and a Finn-shaped voodoo doll. Probably a half-dozen cats and a teacup collection. “You’ve probably built this up in your head. Not used to being denied and all that.”
“Are you denying me?” His face was close enough she couldn’t focus on both his eyes and his mouth at the same time, but she saw the curve of his lips and knew she was done like dinner.
She slowly shook her head, not breaking eye contact. She wanted to stare into those dark grey pools forever, but then his nose brushed hers and everything went fuzzy in the split second before his lips pressed against hers, firm and warm, and she was gone.
This was no beginner’s touch. It might be the first and last time they gave in to the fire between them, and neither would waste the opportunity. His lips quickly parted, his teeth nipping at her lower lip and when she gasped, his tongue darted out to sooth the injured flesh. That erotic touch drew her own response and the first taste of Finn’s mouth only sharpened her hunger for him. She brought her hands to cup his face, still newly shaved, and the silky smooth skin over clenched muscle and sharp jaw made her cry out at the perfection of it all.
She was kissing Finn Howard and it was everything she thought it would be and more. As if he could sense that she was falling apart, he braced his arms behind her, tangling one hand in her hair and planting the other on her desk, canted at an angle behind her hip.
He had her. And she wanted more. She shifted her hips right to the edge of the desk, her pelvis acting with a mind of its own, looking for…ahhhh. Finn groaned before she realized she’d made contact with his erection, but a split second later the awareness settled in and she needed that against her core. She wrapped one leg around his hip, vaguely aware of his hand moving, sliding up her bare thigh and curling around the outside to behind her knee. And then he was holding her open and rocking against her, his tongue fucking into her mouth, mimicking what she desperately needed at her very centre.
Somewhere in the distance a phone rang, and she realized she was about to have sex on her desk in the middle of the day. Her office door was unlocked. With a gasp, she wrenched her mouth free and shoved Finn away.
He spun on the spot and smacked his hand against the floor-to-ceiling window behind her desk. In the quiet of her office, they took matching ragged breaths. In. Out.
Holy fuck. The ache between her legs and the heaviness of her breasts reminded her it wasn’t quite that—but it had certainly been more than a kiss. She slid off her desk and yanked her skirt back into position. When Finn turned around, she was still standing there, her fingers pressed against her mouth.
He stared at her hand for a minute. “I’m not going to apologize for what just happened.”
She lifted her chin. “I’m not asking you to.”
“But that didn’t work exactly as I expected it to.” He frowned, and she realized for the first time that he must be biting his inner cheek when he did that. She didn’t know what to make of that.
“I could say the same thing.” A non-response, but she wasn’t sure where he was going. He was clearly bothered by what they’d just done. Well, too bad. That bell couldn’t be un-rung. It would be awkward for a while, but they hadn’t been fooling anyone with their previous awkwardness either.
“There’s just one solution.” He took a deep sigh and strode around her desk, pausing just long enough to swing his jacket back on. “We’re
going to need to do that again. With the door locked next time.”
Beth gaped as he strode out of her office without giving her a chance to respond. Oh, hell no. They definitely weren’t doing that again.
***
CHAPTER FOUR
They hadn’t done it again. Kissing or anything else. He’d thought about it, a lot, but when he returned to her office later that day Evan was with her. The older West brother had just finished reassuring Beth that he would cover the Toronto event and any other high profile but far afield events on the calendar.
Finn felt like punching something. So much for his chance to be the white knight. So he’d slinked off. The next day he’d called her and left a message. The day after that, he sent an email. She took a full twenty-four hours to respond, and when she did it was business only.
A slow burning fuse started in his gut. He’d give her some time, but he wasn’t waiting forever. Not when he’d had a taste of just how responsive Beth Stewart was in his arms.
A kiss. That was all it should have been.
Blazing hell. He’d been a minute away from sinking into her hot, wet heat. The vivid memory of her grinding against him was seared onto his frontal lobe.
He’d be back in Wardham for a follow up meeting in another week, but he couldn’t wait that long to see her. And if their next meeting was on her territory, she’d probably ensure one of the West brothers was there as a guardian of sorts.
A better man would take her hastily constructed barriers as a clear sign of disinterest. Instead, Finn’s desire to have Beth flipped into overdrive.