by MK Meredith
He bet on logic. She bet on love.
Romance author Seven Michaels believes in love to her very core. She has to—not only for herself, but for her readers. So when luxury salesman Blake Turner insults not only her books but the people who read them, Seven’s ready to throw down. How dare a playboy like Blake insinuate romance lovers are full of crap?
He wants proof? Fine. She bets Blake she can make him fall for her by using the rules in her latest novel before the end of the convention, or she’ll denounce love in front of all her fellow authors and fans at the Romance Lovers Convention ball. A dangerous game to be sure, but humiliating Blake is worth the risk.
But when Seven realizes she’s the one who’s being seduced, she’s no longer sure who is playing whom…or whether she’ll have a career when the bet is over.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by MK Meredith… Malibu Betrayals
Malibu Secrets
Find love in unexpected places with these satisfying Lovestruck reads… Breaking the Bachelor
Meeting His Match
Gambling on the Bodyguard
Flirting with the Competition
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by MK Meredith. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Entangled Publishing, LLC
2614 South Timberline Road
Suite 109
Fort Collins, CO 80525
Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.
Lovestruck is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.
Edited by Kate Brauning
Cover design by Heather Howland
Cover art from iStock
ISBN 978-1-63375-380-8
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition October 2015
To my daughter, Anya, and my little boy, Brody.
Every breath I take is for you.
Thank you for giving me the perfect reason to go after my dreams.
Now you know anything is possible.
Rules of Seduction by Sevannah Michaels
1. Kiss him like it’s the first time, every time.
2. Smile often, and make it genuine.
3. Always be interested in your prospect and what matters to him.
4. Master the five senses. Nothing is more potent than the sight, taste, scent, sound, and feel of you.
5. Caress with an aura of innocence; give those barely-there caresses that appear accidental.
6. Maintain an air of mystery.
7. Always leave him wanting more.
Chapter One
“I bet I could have you in six.”
Sevannah Michaels, Seven to her friends, winced at the prepubescent voice and almost tripped as she stepped through the entrance of the Masquerade Casino. The immense balls of the man-child following her were amazing. Who would make such an audacious claim simply because he’d read her book? All she wanted to do was get to her hotel room and relax without having to put on a show. Her life in the romance writing world had exploded into the spotlight after her first book hit the New York Times best-seller list, and with each new book she wrote, things only picked up speed. She couldn’t be happier, but she really preferred to stand at the edge of all that light.
Her new “friend” had spotted her getting out of the taxi, hovered while she checked in, and adhered himself to her side with the sticky strength of a fly strip. His inability to swallow all of his saliva while he spoke not only made her appetite nonexistent, but her patience, too.
She smiled, or at least tried to, the action so awkward she couldn’t be sure it translated. “I’m glad you enjoyed my book.”
He sidled in closer.
Damn it, her smile had translated too well.
“I didn’t just read it, I studied it.” He stepped ahead of her, forcing her to a stop. “I’m Ted.”
She clamped her lips together and, adjusting her bags in her hand, stepped around him, making a beeline to the elevators. The problem with her was that when she was nervous or put on the spot, she tended to lose her filter, and she could hear her mother now. “Sevannah, think about what you say before you say it.” If only it were that easy.
She swallowed the first three retorts for Ted that came to mind. “Okay then, have a great time.” She couldn’t wrap her head around him studying her book. Her most recent best seller was a romance novel where the heroine used seven rules of seduction to make the hero fall in love with her. She’d never thought of it as a manual before, but with her lack of action lately, maybe it was worth considering.
She shook her head. There were all kinds of people out there, but hell, she was in Vegas, baby—the breeding ground of all kinds. But his insistence magnified the pathetic state of her own situation and made her throat tighten. She had to be the only romance writer whose life was void of romance beyond the words she put to paper.
Come on. Tapping her foot, she watched as each elevator floor number illuminated. The damn thing needed to get here before she clocked this guy with her bag.
“I plan on it. I scheduled my whole weekend to be with you.”
Her shoulder blades pinched back and sent an insistent throbbing up through the base of her skull. Oh God, kill me now. She loved her fans, she truly did, but there was always at least one who couldn’t see boundaries.
Leaning against the wall with his elbow, Ted winked. “By the end of the weekend, you won’t want to say good-bye.”
She needed a plan—this guy was not going to stalk her all weekend. Who was she kidding? She needed a miracle, or her favorite convention of the year would be ruined before it began.
The elevator doors opened, and her miracle stood right in front of her—at well over six feet tall.
The answer to her prayers was dressed in a business suit with the top of his shirt unbuttoned and his jacket slung over one of his very wide shoulders. Eyes the color of whiskey spared her a bored look under full dark brows as she crossed the threshold. If she could have gotten away with it, she would have taken his picture for her “hero inspiration” file.
She smiled and stepped forward with an energetic, “Darling, there you are.”
He straightened, his broad chest at eye level—whoa—and looked her up and down. Oh my God, oh my God.
With her heart slamming in her chest, she let her bags fall at his feet, reciting a silent prayer as she raised on tiptoes. Please play along, please play along. Oh hell, she might as well beg him. She whispered in his ear. “Please play along.”
She laid her lips against his.
With a quick pull of breath, he tensed, then, closing his arms around her, he pulled her up to his chest and off her feet. She squeaked as her stomach dropped. Angling his head, he slid his lower lip more fully against hers, turning her world upside down and then right side up again. With one final, lingering brush of his mouth, he let her slide slowly down the front of him.
Seven stood a moment, staring at the third button
on his shirt, and blinked. Then blinked again. Where the hell was she right now? His low chuckle floated to her ears, but she couldn’t care less.
“What’s this?” Ted accused from behind her.
Damn it. Surely this kid hadn’t followed her onto the elevator.
She looked up at her new hero and mouthed the words, “Thank you.” Turning, she slid in next to him and gave him an appreciative grin. “Were you coming down to get me? Aren’t you the sweetest, thank you.”
A few other patrons stepped onto the elevator, forcing her to step in front of her darling. She held her body stiff to keep from touching him. She’d already pushed her luck with that kiss and wasn’t willing to risk his revealing the truth now that Ted had joined them in the elevator. If she could disappear and reappear in her hotel room, she’d never ask for another thing for the rest of her life.
Ted pushed through the crowd until he faced Sevannah. “What’s this?”
She spared the man behind her a quick glance—which was all she could spare without turning red to her widow’s peak. “This is my boyfriend.”
A hand reached around her and grasped Ted’s in a strong grip, if Ted’s quick hiss of breath was any indication.
“Blake Turner, and you are?”
The smaller man pressed his lips together and then answered, his tone stiff. “Ted Willard.”
Blake dropped Ted’s hand and lowered his to Seven’s waist, pulling her back against him. The heat of his chest burned through her back, and she held completely still. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. What the hell had she gotten herself into?
“If you want this to work, you need to relax.” His warm breath cascaded over the shell of her ear in a whisper, sending goose bumps down her neck and across her breasts. He squeezed her hip, and she forced herself to relax back into him, her backside settling against a hard ridge that only continued to grow. She tensed again.
“Easy. Nothing more than biology.”
His casual dismissal grated in a way she didn’t understand. Nothing more than biology? What the hell? Like any attraction to her couldn’t be anything more than simple science? She was an attractive, intelligent New York Times best seller.
And if she lost sight of that, she wouldn’t be able to make it through this weekend.
Ted narrowed his eyes. “This guy’s your boyfriend?”
Seven placed her hand over Blake’s at her waist and nodded. “Three months now, right babe?”
“Almost four.” Blake pressed a kiss to her temple and ran his hand down her hip and then back up again, sending her stomach into a slow, low roll. Whoa. She tightened her grip on top of his hand, trying to keep it in place.
Ted turned away. “What a waste. Four hundred dollars, and you have a boyfriend.” He turned back, wagging his finger at her. “You know, you really should inform your fans of things like this.” He pushed his way back through the crowd on the elevator. Once he made his way to the panel, he pressed the next floor in line, bringing the elevator to a stop. The doors opened and he stepped out. Turning around, he sent Seven a sad look over the crowd. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
And the doors closed.
Seven closed her eyes. She hated to hurt his feelings, but the one thing he’d missed from her novel was the importance of respect. Making demands and feeling entitled to her time because he was a fan didn’t show her that. No relationship could ever thrive without mutual respect. She hoped he’d find it one day.
Hell, she hoped she’d find it one day.
Blake’s hand traveled a bit forward and then back on her hip, reminding her of her present predicament. She wanted to pull away, but when Ted got off, three more people got on, leaving no place for her to go.
Blake’s hot breath flashed against her ear again, sending another slew of goose bumps along her skin and a hint of mint along her senses.
Damn it. She was going to have to get over this reaction to him—and yesterday.
“You’re not wearing any underwear.”
She stilled. “Why…what…” Heat ran up her neck, burning at her hairline.
His fingers ran over the fabric of her dress along the area the top of her panties would have been had she been wearing them. With nowhere to go, she pulled his hand around the front of her and gripped it between both of hers. The last thing she needed was this joker thinking he could keep exploring. “My vagina’s claustrophobic.” She slapped her hand over her mouth.
No less than five heads turned back to look at her. Oh my God. When would she learn to filter first?
Blake’s bark of laughter startled her, and she spun around to place a finger over his lips.
She gave him a strained look. “Shhhhh, oh my God. I didn’t. You—” she sputtered. Damn it.
The hands still around her waist pulled her in against him, that ridge she’d noticed before now pressing into her stomach, and he smiled down at her like an adoring lover. “I like it.”
Seven wanted to die, and she was going to have a very stern conversation with her libido later if her desire to press back against him was any indication of its attitude this weekend. What was wrong with her?
She put the blame on her ultra-dense editor, Nathaniel Hennings. After a year of soul-crushing failed attempts to get him to ask her out, Seven needed to get him out of her mind. Especially after her last attempt to get his attention. Her well-rehearsed, nothing-but-panties-under-the-trench-coat plan had yielded a verbal pat on the head and a buttload of humiliation. Well, the convention would have been the perfect salve—if he hadn’t decided to come last minute. Unrequited love was a bitch, but that kind of abject humiliation was almost lethal.
The elevator doors opened and half the people in the elevator stepped off. She moved away and found her own space.
Blake looked her up and down again, making her a tad bit self-conscious of her simple pullover dress and flip-flops. With her hair piled haphazardly on top of her head and her face free of any makeup, she was sure his opinion of her was on par with hers of Ted. Her face burned. She might not be showing her best side at the moment, but a little effort would wipe that smug look right off his face.
Pulling one of her bags higher on her shoulder, she returned his arrogant look with one of her own. “I do appreciate your help, but honey, you think you’re pretty smooth, don’t you?”
Shut up, just shut up. She would strangle herself if it were physically possible. She had the balls of a housefly, but couldn’t back down from a challenge, which she’d paid for time and again in her youth.
He laughed, an outright, aggressive laugh. His eyes flashed down at her conference badge, and he raised a brow. “Really? And how’s that, using Rules of Seduction?” He shook his head. “Seriously, it’s sad the way you ladies believe the crap in those novels. And I mean ‘novels’ loosely.”
Digging her nails into her palms, she swallowed back at least a dozen slashing retorts. How did so much arrogance fit inside one idiot? Instead of volleying insults, she studied him. His confident stance and challenging gaze told her more than his words ever could. A man like him didn’t become convinced through debate, but by action.
An idea popped in her head. Maybe her friend Ted had had the right idea all along, though he just hadn’t delivered it well. If she really believed in the rules from her book, why not use them? She could get a man’s attention, his interest. Of course she could.
And interest could easily turn into something more.
Seven fisted her hands at her sides and clenched her teeth to keep from biting this idiot just to wipe the smirk off his face. Her book’s success had to mean something. Unable to control the sarcasm her mother always warned her about, she said, “You laugh, but I could make any man in this place fall for me.” She stepped toward him and narrowed her eyes. “And he’d get the best sex of his life.” Shock factor. Of course, she just had to add sex. Because that was rational and well thought out, just as the interested murmurs and chuckles from their company in the elevator
confirmed. She really needed to invest in having her mouth wired shut.
She held her badge in the air. “And yes, using this book. My book. The one I wrote.”
A woman raised her hand with a sheepish grin. “Where can I get a copy?”
Blake Turner couldn’t believe the nonsense coming out of the plain Jane all up in arms in front of him. He’d admit, she’d taken him off guard with that kiss—hell, he’d felt it well past his dick, which was surprising—but on second look, he could see she was the typical housewife romance reader, and apparently writer, he’d always imagined when he saw or heard the word “romance.” Fuck, kill me now.
The sooner he got to work, the better. And it wouldn’t be easy with his company sharing the casino with a romance convention, of all things. The damn place looked like a masquerade ball had fucked a Mardi Gras parade.
This weekend was his chance to prove he was ready for the VP of sales position, and though a heated kiss here and there made for a fun trip, he didn’t have time for any distractions. As soon as he’d stepped off the plane, he missed the tall pines and mountain views of the Northwest—Vegas was already distraction enough.
In six minutes he was supposed to be sitting down in a meeting with a client who wanted to upgrade his personal fleet of luxury sedans, and this little woman was going to make him late.
He looked back down at her, her brown eyes challenging, her small mouth pressed into a thin line. He couldn’t understand why he was still hard, but apparently his dick had opinions that didn’t take his feelings into account. “You could make any man fall for you? Talk about thinking you’re smooth.”
She mimicked his arrogant stance. “Oh, you have no idea.” Her eyes flared wide for a beat, then narrowed.
Blake shifted his weight until he leaned back against the wall. “Please, there is no way you could get any man you want using that damned book.” Love was a fallacy, and commitment was nothing more than a prison sentence based on ignorance. The idea that she could produce anything real from using the rules in some ridiculous romance was laughable.