by Dee Tenorio
“Well, there is one other concession you’ll have to make.”
“Yeah, like what? Which restaurants we’re going to have to give up to keep the other person happy? Because Wong’s is a deal-breaker for me, I’ll put that on the table right now.”
“Not Wong’s.” She pretended to think about it, toying with the hair at his nape. “I was thinking about your list.”
“My what?” Only one eye opened, but she could tell he was wide awake at that. “Was that someone at the door?”
“Nope, didn’t hear a thing. Your list. I have a question.”
He stared at her, his mouth falling open just a little bit.
She used a forefinger to lift his jaw for him. “Smart, Educated, Sense of Humor.”
His eyes narrowed. “Yes?”
“Is there a particular reason why pretty is at the bottom? Did you pick me because I was any of those other things first?” She blinked innocently at him, as if she wasn’t about to make some sort of point. But she could tell he scented danger.
“Of course not.”
“So, you don’t think I’m pretty?”
“I think you’re gorgeous.”
“Which doesn’t apply to the list.”
He closed his eyes with a groan, no doubt wishing he’d pretended total unconsciousness. “I’m going to beat my brother senseless.”
“You can’t go blaming Lucas just because you don’t want to be in trouble.”
“Jess, honey, being with you means I’m going to be in trouble every day for the rest of my life. I can blame him for a little bit of it from time to time, can’t I?” He leaned close to her, his smile warming all the parts of her heart that were still afraid, filling them with hope. Filling her with delicious, wonderful heat. And love. A whole new world of love.
She pressed her index finger to his lips. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way, right?”
His smile grew broader, sparkling with mischief beneath her touch. The smile she knew she’d be seeing for the rest of her life, good or bad, rain or shine.
Merry Christmas to me…
“Maybe with a puppy…”
About the Author
Dee Tenorio is a sick woman. Really sick. She enjoys tormenting herself by writing romantic comedies (often with sexy, grumpy heroes and smart-mouthed heroines) and sizzling, steamy romances of various genres spanning dramas with the occasional drop of suspense all the way to erotic romance. But why does that make her sick?
Because she truly seems to enjoy it.
And she has every intention of keeping at it!
If you would like to learn more about Dee and her work, please visit her website at www.deetenorio.com or her blog at www.deetenorio.com/Blog.
Look for these titles by Dee Tenorio
Now Available:
Love Me Knots
Kiss Me Again
Test Me!
Rancho Del Cielo Romance
Betting Hearts
Love Me Tomorrow
Burn for Me
Midnight Trilogy
Midnight Legacy
Midnight Temptation
Midnight Sonata
Coming Soon:
All or Nothing
Once burned is all it takes…
Burn for Me
© 2009 Dee Tenorio
A Rancho Del Cielo Romance
Twelve years ago, Raul Montenga left home to live life on his own terms. Yet for just as long, his nights have sizzled with erotic dreams of Penelope, the girl he left behind. Enough is enough. It’s time to find out if the sparks are real, or all in his head.
Not that he expected a warm welcome, but her cold shoulder and icy rejection sting more than he cares to admit. So he’s more than a little surprised to find her tomboy daughter standing nervously on his porch…claiming to be his child.
Dr. Penelope Gibson’s worst nightmare isn’t that her daughter wants to know her daddy. It’s facing—and keeping at arm’s length—her biggest youthful mistake. Now he’s back and the feelings she’d thought frozen solid are melting fast. Along with her inhibitions, her clothes and her better judgment.
Problem is, Raul’s not content to stop at getting acquainted with her daughter. He wants it all—Penelope’s love, her body and her soul. After twelve years building a life without him, though, she’s not sure she trusts him—or herself—enough to try.
Warning This book features a wildly hot Latino firefighter dead-set on a mission to seduce. Contains bad words, fiery tempers and scorching sex. Oven mitts required.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Burn for Me:
He stared down at his daughter—his daughter, a thought that in and of itself was growing less incredulous and more exactly what he wanted—and knew in that moment that his life was about to change irrevocably. If he wanted, he could still back away. Keep Chloe at enough of a distance that he could be her friend, give her access to his family but not really change much. He’d work at the firehouse, finding all the meaning in his life in the work there, and keep longing for something more in his heart.
Or, he’d become her father. Be someone to guide her and protect her. Be more to her than he’d ever managed to be to anyone else.
The ease with which he made the decision should have startled him, but it didn’t. Like snapping that chain around her neck, the pieces fell together inside him and the lock was set. They still had a long way to go, of course—no kid of his should be expected to live in a room this perfect—but at least he knew he wanted the experience. Wanted to be part of this. Wanted.
He tapped the lamp a couple of times to turn it off and reached for the door handle. Penelope stood there, raising her chin when he waited for her to walk out first. She was stubborn, something he should have realized years ago, but some things didn’t change no matter how deep in denial a person wanted to go. Faced with waking up her daughter or standing there staring at him for eternity, Pen finally let go of the door and walked ahead of him into the hall.
Satisfied, Raul pulled the door shut, silencing the chimes by pressing them to the door. The door directly across from Chloe’s could only belong to Penelope. She caught him looking, he could tell because she bit her lip. Tempting, very tempting, to stroll over there and discover what secrets the elusive Miss Gibson had in there, but they had talking to do first.
Raul shook his head and pointed to the stairs. Was that relief or disappointment on her face? It wasn’t a question he could let himself think about. Much. He forced himself down the stairs, listening for her footsteps in his wake.
It took a while, but Penelope finally came. She walked into the living room where he was putting the poker back on the hearth stand. Vents closed, door closed upstairs. Now, finally, he could lay into her.
Except when he turned, he didn’t see the hard-shelled woman who had stood on his parents’ deck and told him to back off. This Penelope was worried. Afraid. Of him.
His anger curdled in his belly. “I’m not going to do anything to you, Pen,” he growled.
“I know.” And then she backed up a step and crossed her arms.
“Now that’s just fuckin’ unfair.” So what if he sounded like a ten-year-old. “You were ready to rip my balls off and serve ’em for dinner earlier. But now that we’re alone, you act like I’m going to hit you or something. I thought you were better than that.”
“I’ve had almost five hours to think about what you were going to say. You’ve always been somewhat…demonstrative when you’re upset. I’ve never seen any value to yelling myself hoarse. So no, I’m not looking forward to this.” He could practically see frost coming out of her mouth as she spoke.
“You didn’t care about my demonstrations at the house.”
“At the house, I was angry.”
“But you’re not anymore.” Of course she wasn’t, she’d had her say. And her say had been six kinds of insulting, each and every one of them telling him to keep his distance. Just thinking about it pissed him off all over again. “
How convenient for you.”
Her mouth twitched and some life snapped in her eyes. “I had every right to be angry. You were giving your family the wrong impression. On purpose.”
Damn right he’d done it on purpose. “I was being attentive and you were giving everyone the cold shoulder because things weren’t going your way. I hate to break it to you, querida, but you don’t have all the answers and you’re not the only one with something to lose in this situation. Those people are all going to play an important role in her life now. That means they’ll be part of your life, the same as me. Treating us like shit will kind of get in the way of that.”
She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t treating anyone like anything. I was staying out of the way because the whole point was for them to accept Chloe. Chloe. Why weren’t you giving her the grand tour, introducing her to the relatives, instead of finding new and inventive ways to excuse putting your hands all over me?”
He focused on the first accusation…for now. “I did. For as long as she stayed still for it. Unlike you, she likes people and dove right in.”
Color flooded her cheeks in a rush. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” he said, taking that step forward she’d put between them and another two besides, “you’re getting more and more like your mother with every damn day and it’s getting on my fucking nerves.”
She froze, her eyes widening while her mouth fell slightly open. He could just see the tops of her teeth, perfectly white and even.
“What the hell happened to you, Pen? Do you even see the way you’re becoming like her? You freeze people out, shut off your emotions and act like you’re too good to be bothered. You’re thirty-two fuckin’ years old, but you’re locked up in clothes and restraints like some goddamned retirement-home lady. You used to talk about the way you’d be when you grew up. That you’d go away and do things, make a difference with your life. Everyone knew you were just waiting to grow up and get out from your mother’s control, but you haven’t. And it’s wrong for you.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, yes, I do.” He walked up to her now, invading her space, almost wrapping his hands around her shoulders, he wanted to shake her so much. “You don’t think I paid attention, but I did. I knew you. I knew who you were under the frills and the manners and all that other shit she used to make you do. You used to laugh, Pen. I haven’t heard you laugh once since I came back. Not a real laugh. It wasn’t loud, wasn’t crazy, but fuck, at least you did it. When the hell did you lose what made you special?”
That finally seemed to snap her back to reality because she put her hands on his chest and shoved. “You happened, Raul. You. I spent fifteen years throwing myself at you because I couldn’t seem to help it and you never cared.”
He let her move him, shock at her emotional explosion muting his earlier frustration. She pushed again, as if she thought she could throw him across the room instead of a single step backward.
“Finally, finally, when I thought you felt something for me, all that happened was a horrible drunken fuck in a closet. A closet, Raul. Nameless, faceless and completely forgettable.” She pounded at him, enough that it actually hurt this time. Or was that only because of what she was saying? “You left and you never looked back. You destroyed me. Does that make your ego feel better? I thought I lost everything the day you left, and I’ve spent the rest of my life proving myself wrong. Proving to myself—if no one else—that you don’t matter anymore, and you know what, I’ve done a hell of a job.
“So excuse me if I’m not special enough for you anymore. Maybe it was the pregnancy afterward that took a little of the shine off. Or do you think it was surviving medical school with an infant? It could have been the pointless relationships I tried to have every now and again, each one a little more depressing than the last. Or maybe, just maybe, it was living with my mother’s unflagging disappointment my entire life because at every single turn, I’ve lived up to everyone’s lowest expectations.
“And by the way, yes, she’s a bitch, okay, but she’s my bitchy mother and if you want my respect for your family you’d better damn well have some for mine. Either way, you do not get to decide if I’m special, Raul. You made your mind up a long time ago that I wasn’t—”
The kiss muffled her words. She shoved at him again, but he didn’t let her go. She had to stop talking. Because everything she was saying was ripping his chest open. He licked at her lips, taking her fists into his hands and holding them still. She kept trying to hit him, but eventually she stopped fighting. Instead he felt her lips soften, part and then the darting touch of her tongue against his. She stroked, a warm, wet invitation that he’d have to have been dead for three days to turn down.
Letting go of her hands, he cupped her face, gentling his touch but unable to tamp down the hunger. His body hardened for her, pushing against her. Her palms slid down his chest, burning a trail to his waist, where she grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and pulled his hips closer. Flush, their bodies strained into each other from chest to knee.
The kiss slowed, became an exploration. He tasted her lips, drawing the full curve of the bottom one into his mouth before delving back inside to stroke her tongue with his. His senses filled with her, the taste of her, the scent and the feel of her. She met him kiss for kiss, rising up on her toes to get that little bit closer.
When the kiss finally broke, he still held her face cupped in his hands, but the angry fire in her eyes had cooled, the cobalt color shimmering with unshed tears. With unabashed want. Her lips pink and swollen, open and moist enough for him to want to pull her right back in.
She stared at him, looking almost tormented. “Why can’t I hate you?”
Wouldn’t everything be easier if she could? He touched her lip with his thumb, caressing it carefully. “Probably the same reason I don’t think I can let you go tonight.”
He thought she’d get angry again, but all she did was sniff and blink back her tears. Her poise threatened to return, and with it he knew would go any chance of touching her. Kissing her again. Making love to her, which he’d just told her he meant to do.
A good man would have released his hold and left. A good man would tell her she deserved better than the way he’d treated her all her life. But if there was one thing Raul knew about himself, it was that no one in their right mind would ever call him good.
“Don’t make me let you go, Pen. I won’t be able to.”
Penelope didn’t pretend to misunderstand. Or lie and say she didn’t want him just as much. “What about Chloe? I don’t want—”
“I’ll be gone before she wakes up.”
She glanced down at the couch, a flicker of distaste making her flinch.
“Your bed.” She was going to stop expecting the worst from him one of these days. He’d see to it. Starting tonight. Swooping down, he scooped her up to his chest and headed back to the stairs.
One wrong move, and she could be dancing on her grave…
Pas de Deux
© 2010 Fiona Jayde
Two years after an injury put her dancing career on hold, Lynnrina Kovaleva is determined to reclaim her place on the stage. On the eve of her comeback production, she takes the edge off her nerves with a one-night stand in the strong arms of celebrity bodyguard Mateo Rivera.
Ex-cop Mateo is celebrating one hell of an anniversary: eight months since he was declared unfit for duty. When a delicate beauty boldly propositions him in a bar, he chooses to lose himself in her body rather than lose his mind to alcohol. This choice comes back to haunt him when he’s hired to protect a prima ballerina who’s been receiving threats.
Despite her shock at seeing him again, Lynn must not allow their intense attraction—or any creepy fan letters—to undermine her performance. Mateo can’t reconcile this coldly focused dancer with the passionate woman who seduced him. Yet he sees fire under the ice, pain hidden by the smooth mask of perfection.
The vivid me
mory of their entwined bodies wars with the job at hand, but he must keep Lynn safe—regardless of the cost. The most difficult challenge, however, will be keeping his hands to himself.
Warning: Contains jetés, pliés, a chilling touch of danger, and the boiling heat of an unwanted attraction that combusts into passionate sex.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Pas de Deux:
Her legs ready to give out, Lynn only wanted to reach her dressing room and sit for a small precious second. Sit and not move a single inch. She went straight for her stash, barely chewing the first chocolate before tearing open another one and actually biting off a piece. It hurt to chew. Her whole body was aching. A month until opening night, and she wasn’t sure she had the stamina to carry it. Six different duets, each of them grueling. Her aching feet throbbed at the mere thought.
She took another piece, letting the taste melt on her tongue before she swallowed. A tub filled to the brim with soothing hot water was just a few minutes away. She simply had to find the strength to get her body up and moving, and face Mateo in the hallway. She’d seen him watch her with those cool onyx eyes. Dark gaze, dark clothes that should have been pretentious yet weren’t.
Pushing the thought of him away, Lynn thought about soaking in a tub until her fingers wrinkled. Just a few minutes more. The quick knock on the door made her softly groan. She didn’t want to put on a bright face, didn’t think she had the strength for it. Another piece of Midnight Dark. as the door swung open.
“I didn’t say come in,” she muttered with a mouthful of chocolate just as Mateo’s gaze focused in on the bag of Ghirardelli’s.
“You ready?”
She was too tired to think about it. “I need a couple of minutes more.”
“You tried to get rid of me.” Cool voice, his hands tucked in his pockets. Again her dressing room seemed much too small with him inside.