Worth the Scandal: Worth It, Book 1

by Karen Erickson

  She stroked his arm and shifted against him, her backside rubbing against his groin and causing his cock to stir halfheartedly. He groaned close to her ear. “Give me a few minutes before we start that again.”

  Tessa giggled. “I’m too tired.”

  “Hmm, I bet I could get you in the mood.” He trailed his fingers across her breasts, felt her distended nipples and he chuckled.

  “Too sleepy. We can do that later.” She snuggled closer.

  “Tessa?” She felt so amazing in his arms. He couldn’t get over the fact that he had her with him. That it wasn’t a dream.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you know?” He paused and cleared his throat. “Do you know what night it was that we conceived Charlotte?”

  “It was the night we, um, had sex on your desk.” She pressed her face against his arm, her voice filled with embarrassment.

  Realization dawned. He hadn’t used a condom, had taken her like some sort of uncontrollable savage overcome with lust. “I’m an irresponsible ass.”

  “I enjoyed it. The way you pushed me onto the desk…” A shiver moved through her.

  He chuckled and she pinched his arm, causing him to yelp. “Why did you do that?”

  “Never say you were irresponsible. That night brought us Charlotte.” She sighed. “It was meant to be.”

  Perhaps it was. “Hopefully we’ll have another night that’s meant to be and bring Charlotte a little brother.”

  “Please. Let me recover from having this one first.”

  They laughed together. “As soon as we can, I’d like to add my name to Charlotte’s birth certificate,” he said once their laughter died.

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  He stiffened. “Why not?”

  She turned in his arms so she could face him. The room was dark but for a single light burning dimly in the bathroom and he could just make out her features. “You’re already listed as her father.”

  “I am?” His heart thumped wildly in his chest. He couldn’t believe it.

  She nodded, her expression solemn. “Gina tried to talk me out of it but I couldn’t do it. You’re listed as her father and her name on the birth certificate is Charlotte Elizabeth Worth.”

  “That is a mouthful.”

  “I thought it made her sound like royalty.” Tessa smiled. “She is royalty.”

  “She’s my little princess.” He kissed her. “And you are my queen.”

  And together they would rule the Worth empire and live happily ever after.

  About the Author

  Karen Erickson has always loved the written word. From being one of the best readers in her kindergarten class to penning romantic stories that never ended about her favorite band members (Duran Duran) in high school, she always wanted to write. It just took her a while to seriously pursue it.

  With the birth of her third child came a realization – it’s one thing to talk about writing a book, another thing entirely to actually do it. She’s been published since 2006.

  Karen’s a native Californian who lives in the foothills below Yosemite with her husband, three children, one dog, and too many cats.

  To learn more about Karen, visit her online:

  www.karenerickson.com

  Blog: karenerickson.blogspot.com

  Group Blog: www.smutketeers.com

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/karenericksonwritesromance

  Twitter: www.twitter.com/karenerickson

  Look for these titles by Karen Erickson

  Now Available:

  Spontaneous

  Jesse’s Girl

  Neon Chaos

  Fortune

  Fortune’s Deception

  Fortune’s Promise

  Fortune’s Chance

  Playing with Fire

  Forbidden

  Tangled

  Scandalous

  Notorious

  Fated

  Under My Umbrella

  Baby, Don’t Lose My Number

  Simple Twist of Fate

  Tahoe Nights

  My Favorite Mistake

  Print Anthologies

  Midsummer Night’s Steam: Hot Summer Nights

  Luck of the Draw

  Playing with Fire

  Tahoe Nights

  Coming Soon:

  Worth It

  Worth the Risk

  Worth the Challenge

  Sometimes you run in to love. Sometimes it runs into you.

  Simple Twist of Fate

  © 2011 Karen Erickson

  Fated, Book 3

  Love at first sight? It’s so not happening for Morgan. Never mind that her two best friends, who are both up to their eyeballs in happily ever after, are playing matchmaker. She wants out of her worst blind date ever—and her “out” abruptly finds her when she’s knocked out cold walking into a door.

  One look into the eyes of the beautiful woman with the gash on her head, and paramedic Evan Marshall is a goner. Professional ethics say hands off the patient. Once her stitches are out, though, he can’t resist the impulse to ask her out. As their first date flares into a white-hot affair, he feels it in his bones—she’s the one.

  Evan’s everything Morgan could ever want in a man, but things are happening way too fast. She made that mistake once before and, certain this relationship is careening down the same road to heartbreak, she slams on the brakes.

  To her surprise, Evan lets her go. And by the time she realizes she just let her one chance at happily ever after slip away, it could be too late…

  Product Warnings

  Fated love strikes again. Featuring toe-curling sex, a sweet-talking man and a woman who can’t help but give in to her secret desires. Will true love reign supreme? Most definitely…

  Warning: Fated love strikes again. Featuring toe-curling sex, a sweet-talking man and a woman who can’t help but give in to her secret desires. Will true love reign supreme? Most definitely…

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Simple Twist of Fate:

  Evan carefully wound the gauze around her head nice and tight to stem the flow of blood. It had slowed to a mere trickle by the time they got her into the back of the ambulance, but he wasn’t going to take any chances. It was a deep gash but nothing terribly serious. That door had caught her just right, and she’d need a few staples along the edge of her hairline.

  He didn’t dare mention staples again, though. The first time had nearly sent her into a panic. And the last thing he wanted was a panicked patient.

  She smiled at him when he finished wrapping her head, and a little zing zapped through him. Her shoulder-length dark brown hair was a haphazard mess, sticking out in odd waves because of the half-mummy look the gauze gave her. Bits of dried blood were still on the side of her face, and she watched him silently with big, dark velvety brown eyes.

  Eyes he could drown in if he didn’t watch out.

  Shaking his head, he went about his tasks with measured efficiency, putting away supplies then making sure she was comfortable. He’d been a paramedic for six years, and he was damn good at his job. So good it tended to take over his life, but hell, the overtime pay was worth it. He had enough time for a social life later. Right now, he had a job to do and plenty of money to make. He had big goals, wanting to save for a piece of land in the country and eventually build a house on it.

  “Thank you for helping me,” she said softly.

  “Just doing my job.” He shrugged, trying to pretend her appreciation didn’t mean anything beyond the usual.

  “You’re very good at it.” He met her gaze and lifted his brows. “Your job. You have a very…calming nature.”

  “Until I mention the word staples.” Her eyes widened, and he felt like a complete ass. “See? I did it again. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. It won’t hurt, right?”

  Nah, the staples never hurt. It was the shot the patients got in the head to numb them before the staples that usually had them freaking out. But he wasn’t about to mention that.
“You’ll be fine.”

  “Of course, I will.” She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She looked worried more than anything, and he wanted to reassure her. Take her mind off what was going to happen next. They were still a few minutes from the hospital and traffic was kind of hectic, he could tell what with the crappy way his partner Wes was driving.

  “So that guy you were with…”

  She shook her head and winced. Her head was probably killing her. “My friend set me up with him.”

  “Does your friend hate you?”

  She giggled. “No, she’s one of my best friends. She means well, but the outcome is rarely successful. She just wants to see me happy.”

  “Happy with a jerk?” It was none of his business. He was just making idle conversation to pass the time.

  Yeah, right.

  “No, she wants me happy with a nice guy. But they’re never nice guys. They’re always sort of…weird. I think it’s me.” She frowned. “I must repel normal men or something. I attract weirdoes. Selfish guys who only care about the Lakers game they’re missing.”

  Evan laughed. “He must be a diehard fan.”

  “Totally. I only agreed to the date because I’ve never been to a professional basketball game before. And Mia swore he was a good guy.”

  “And you still didn’t get to go to that game.”

  “No, I didn’t.” Her smile was rueful. “He made me quit eating my dinner so we could get there in time for the beginning.”

  “What a loser.” Evan shook his head. He wouldn’t rush her for anything. Well, maybe for some hot and sweaty sex. There was nothing wrong with a quickie here and there…

  Jesus. What was wrong with him? He never thought of patients like that.

  “He was pretty awful. I think I’m going to ban myself from dating for a while.”

  Disappointment filled him. Not that he’d act on his urges. He had a strict rule—no dating patients. There were a few of his fellow paramedics who had no qualms asking out their injured patients. They had quite the reputation among their coworkers, but Evan wouldn’t do it. It was unprofessional.

  And more than anything, he was professional.

  “One bad date and you’re done?”

  “Oh, it’s been more than one bad date. More like an endless string of bad dates.” Her cheeks turned pink. “I probably shouldn’t be confessing any of this to you.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m making myself look worse. And you probably don’t even care to hear about my dating endeavors and how awful they are.” Her entire face was flushed.

  He smiled. “You’re cute when you’re all flustered.” There, he said it. He was flirting. If Wes had been there, he would’ve been shocked. He never flirted on the job.

  She tore her gaze from his, her teeth sinking into her lower lip—her very plump lower lip. “I must look awful.”

  She did look plenty awful but he still thought she was pretty. “I’ve seen worse.”

  “Great.” She rolled her eyes but smiled. “That makes me feel so much better.”

  The heart takes no prisoners.

  Secrets and Seduction

  © 2011 Jane Beckenham

  The only emotion Leah Grainger can muster when thinking of her dead husband is relief. Until she learns his gambling debt threatens her beloved farm and the child she wanted to protect from the rootless existence she grew up with.

  The last straw? Her husband’s brother demands a meeting. When she charges into his office to tell him she won’t let another Grainger screw up her life, the startlingly handsome, former oil rig wildcatter goes for the jugular. He’s claimed legal guardianship of her daughter, bought her mortgage…and he’s moving in.

  The final email Mac received from his suicidal brother blamed Leah for everything. If it’s the last thing he does, he plans to protect his niece. Even if it means using his millions to gain the upper hand. And hardening his heart against the beautiful Leah’s protests of innocence.

  Yet something seems off. Leah is nothing like the uncaring woman his brother described. She’s warm, loving…and when a new threat to her child surfaces and she reaches out to him in need, his body won’t let him say no. Even when her last secret forces him to make a decision that exposes his most closely guarded possession. His heart.

  Warning: Contains tug-your-heart love, raise-the-roof lust, a marriage of convenience and hot sex that will give a whole new meaning to the word “wildcatter.”

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Secrets and Seduction:

  Mac Grainger leant against the porch railing, arms folded across his broad chest. He stared at her, full mouth curling at the corners.

  Leah swallowed back the sudden lump in her throat.

  He’d changed from the suit he’d worn at his office into a pair of jeans and Polo shirt, making him appear deceptively approachable. Almost—because Leah knew Mac Grainger wasn’t a man to toy with.

  A few yards behind him, parked beneath the copse of cabbage trees, was a red Ferrari. Expensive, classic, with a hint of the devil. She shouldn’t have expected anything different.

  Leah backed up a step, hoping the shadow cast from the overhanging trees would hide the shock she felt heating her cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

  “Exactly what I said I would. I take my role as uncle seriously.”

  The bush she’d been holding slid from her grip and landed at her feet. “You can’t just walk in here any time you like. This is my property. I’ll…”

  He stepped away from the porch and took a few steps toward her. “I’m not going away, Leah. We need to talk.”

  She glanced to the house. Charlee, please stay asleep. “Not now. Not here,” she countered.

  He came another step closer. “You can’t run away.”

  Could he read her mind?

  “You don’t get a choice, Leah,” he reminded her.

  Choice. That word highlighted their differences. Rich versus stone broke.

  “We can talk here,” she prevaricated.

  “We could, but we won’t.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Look, why make this harder than it has to be?”

  “It’s already hard. I don’t want you here.”

  “And I told you I’m not going away. So I guess we’re at an impasse.”

  For the count of several heartbeats, his dark eyes held her captive. He wasn’t about to budge. Somehow she had to get him on her side and appeal to his better nature.

  Did he have one?

  Of that, Leah wasn’t certain. He was, after all, Curtis’s brother.

  Steadying her nerves, she exhaled a choppy breath and wiped her hands down her jeans. She hooked her gaze with his, tilting her chin up a tad higher. “Five minutes. That’s all. Then you go.”

  She jumped off the back of the pickup and walked right past him, refusing to offer a whiff of weakness, even though resignation soured in her stomach and desperation constricted every breath. She took the front steps two at a time up to the wooden porch, where she peeled off her gumboots, entered her house and switched the light on in the entry hall.

  A crackle of electricity exploded above her, a current shooting from her fingertips and up her arm. “Ouch.” She yanked her hand back. The bulb above flickered momentarily, then a loud popping sound bounced off the walls, and the bulb died, sending the hall into darkness. “Damn.”

  “Problem?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” she snapped. Darn it. How many more bulbs would blow? “I might as well take out shares in the company that makes those blasted bulbs,” she grumbled. “It’s an old house and dates back to the eighteen hundreds. There’s bound to be…problems,” she said, unsure why she was trying to explain the shortcomings of her dilapidated house.

  “So get them fixed,” he countered.

  If only it were that easy.

  “Follow me.” She beckoned to Mac and led him down the hallway and into the welcoming kitchen-cum-dining-and-lounge area, gra
teful no more bulbs exploded overhead.

  Leah knew he followed. She felt him right behind her, just as she’d done when she’d left his office. It was a sensation that was disconcerting and scarily exciting at the same time. Mac Grainger didn’t exactly frighten her, though she was uncertain what he really knew or didn’t know about Charlee. But she did, however, fear his power and what he could take away.

  A coffee, a chat, then she’d see him out. Easy.

  Confident she could cope with at least that, she washed her hands at the sink, wiped them on the towel she kept close by and busied herself in the kitchen. She reached for two mugs from a cupboard and, without asking him, tossed a spoonful of coffee into each. “Sugar?” she queried, holding a sugar bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other.

  He shook his head.

  He stood at the entrance to her tiny kitchen, so close that heat burned off him. Her mouth dried, and she slid her tongue across parted lips, only to catch him watching her like a falcon focused on its prey.

  “You don’t have to stand guard, Mr. Grainger. I’m not running.”

  “Yet,” he answered smoothly.

  Nerves spun taut, her fragile control tilted precariously. She directed her attention to the steam rising from the kettle, though her awareness of him burgeoned as she tried desperately to remember what, if anything, Curtis had said about him. Though in truth, her husband’s brother had barely rated a mention during their marriage, and while Curtis had been good-looking, charming her easily, Mac doubled the quota in the good-looks department. She peered at him through the wispy steam rising from the kettle.

  He was tall, imposing and sexy as hell, and even though it shouldn’t, her heart did a flurry of flip-flops.

  Don’t let him charm you, Leah!

  The kettle’s reedy whistle echoed across the silence, breaking her thoughts, which was just as well. Those sorts of thoughts weren’t a good idea, and she chastised herself for even noticing him.