Festive & Seduced
Page 12
“Okay,” he conceded. “I guess a partner might help. Who’s available? Hone? Billy?”
George issued a choking sound, merriment dancing across his lined face as he stuck his big-booted feet on his desk.
“What’s so goddamn amusing?” Jack ground out.
Another chortle exploded from George.
Jack paced the length of the room, trying to combat the thrum of agitation working through his system. He paused to stare out the window, his mind taking in the yachts that zigzagged across blue waters of Auckland Harbor. Finally, he turned away and stalked back to drop into the chair opposite George. He kept his expression neutral despite the amusement still simmering across his boss’s face. “You’d better let me in on the joke.”
“You can partner up with Hone or Billy, if you want, but you might want to consider the special circumstances.”
“What circumstances?” Hell, he had a hot date with Melissa tonight. Good, sweaty, no-strings sex. He didn’t have time for this crap. “Either Hone or Billy. I’m not fussy.”
“Reuben J. Mahoney runs a couples’ resort. I’m assigning you a female partner.”
“A female— No.”
“I guess you can take Hone. Or Billy,” George mused. “Of course, you’d have to share a room. And a bed.” He shook his grizzled head. “Two taniwha in the same space. Add in a blue moon and things might get a mite ugly.”
Fuck. Jack sent a hard glare at his boss. Trapped as neat as an eel in a net. Jack shuffled through the range of possibilities and came up blank. “Who is she?”
“A new operative.”
Great. Just bloody great. Not only was he forced to take a female partner, he was getting a raw beginner. Jack didn’t trust himself to speak so he firmed his mouth, folded his arms across his chest and scowled his displeasure.
“I’m teaming you with Emma Montrose.”
“Your secretary?” Jack heard disbelief in his voice but thought he managed to keep his panic to himself. What the hell did a secretary know about investigating a case? What about the danger? To both of them. They would have to share a room, for God’s sake. Jack refused to let his mind dwell on Emma’s sexy legs…or the rest of her curvy form.
“Emma’s capable of assisting you on this case.”
“Assign me another case.” Spending time alone with Emma was enough to give any hot-blooded male ideas. Jack wasn’t interested in anything but sex. No relationships for him. Been there. Done that. Chucked away the T-shirt.
Nope. It was best he kept well away from the very curvy, brown-haired Emma Montrose. Every time he came into the office, her big blue eyes trailed after him like a pet dog expecting a treat, except instinct told him she had more in mind than stroking or petting. That was part of what caused his edginess whenever he was in her presence. A woman of Emma’s caliber craved happily-ever-after.
Not his goal. Not anymore.
Some of the taniwha shifters—George, for example—were happily married, but finding a woman comfortable with her man turning into a dragon wasn’t easy. It was a rare female who coped with the idea that her children might carry the taniwha gene. Or might not, depending on fate. The peculiarities of the taniwha species had rattled his ex-lover. She hadn’t been able to cope with his ugly appearance and had run despite his assurances she would always remain human. He hadn’t even reached the part about taniwha living longer—around thirty years longer—than the average human before his lover had run. Too late to tell her the benefit would extend to her.
“Did you say share a room?” Jack ignored the interested twitch from his cock.
“And a bed. But if you don’t think you can act as part of a couple with Emma, I’ll send Hone. He’s due off assignment tomorrow.”
Jack considered that for all of two seconds. He’d seen the way Hone looked at Emma. “I’ll do it,” he said, even though deep in his gut, he knew he’d regret this decision. “Give me the details.”
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Excerpt – My Scarlet Woman
Book 1, Middlemarch Shifters
“Please stop staring at me.” Emily Scarlet grimaced at Maggie, her sister-in-law and best friend. She scanned the faces in the line leading to the marquee, concentrating on the male ones before turning back to Maggie. “I checked my makeup in my compact mirror five minutes ago. I know I haven’t colored outside the lines so quit with the bulging eyes. It’s not attractive. Don’t you want to catch a man?”
Emily’s hips swayed in time to the catchy beat of the song the band played and mentally checked off the faces while eagerness built. No. No. Possibly…
“I can’t help it. You look so different.” Maggie’s expression radiated confusion as she checked out Emily’s radically changed appearance.
Emily knew she looked different. Better. Her reflection in the bedroom mirror this evening still had the power to surprise her. The sexy, layered haircut and the new golden highlights that shot her from mousy to head-turning. The figure-hugging red dress that ended mid-thigh and showcased her recent weight loss. The strappy black heels that made her legs appear long and toned. The blue contact lenses to correct her shortsightedness, and the breasts that the incredible bra she wore pushed up and out to greater prominence.
Maggie’s brow crinkled in distress. “You’re not the Emily Scarlet I know. I don’t think Michael—”
“Michael is dead.”
Pain darkened her sister-in-law’s face. “It’s been six months. Don’t you think you should take more time before you make changes?”
Emily bit back the cutting reply that leapt to the tip of her tongue. Michael had cheated. He’d lied. The morning of the car accident, he’d had told her he intended to leave her for his secretary. Boring little Emily didn’t compare favorably with the glamorous Tessa. Too frumpy. Too predictable for Michael’s taste. He hadn’t even given her a chance!
Impotent anger grew as she replayed the painful scene. She gripped her black clutch bag so tightly the box of condoms inside buckled beneath the pressure and the cellophane wrapping gave a telltale crackle. She relaxed her grasp and inhaled, trying to push away the ugly past.
Bottom line. He hadn’t loved her.
Emily fixed a smile on her mouth. She didn’t want to argue with Maggie or blurt out the truth about Michael in a burst of temper—not after keeping quiet and protecting the family’s illusions. They had loved Michael, and she refused to hurt the people she cared for even if their son and brother was a dirty, cheating scumbag. She’d suffered enough for them already.
After mentally jerking herself back to the present, she spied a tall, dark-haired man standing with a group just inside the flower-bedecked marquee. Her gaze strolled the length of his body, coming to rest on a very touchable butt. She sighed in appreciation and wished he’d turn around so she could check the whole package. He remained standing with his arse pointing in her direction. Delectable.
She put him on her list and glanced back at Maggie. “Coming to Middlemarch is about having fun.”
The line moved forward and Emily tugged two tickets from the depths of her clutch bag then draped the long strap over her shoulder.
“It’s all about sex,” Maggie snapped. “They have a shortage of women in Middlemarch. I’ve read the papers. This isn’t a dance. It’s a meat market.”
“Yeah, great, isn’t it?” Emily chuckled, attracting the attention of the same group of men she’d just ogled. She winked at them and turned back to Maggie. “You didn’t have to come with me. I told you I was happy to come on my own. I promised to turn into a pumpkin at midnight, catch the train back to Dunedin and stumble into a taxi at the other end, tired and danced out like a good Cinderella. But you insisted on coming. The least you can do is enjoy yourself. Come on, you know you love to dance.”
“I don’t know you in this mood. You’ve changed.”
Laughing, she gave Maggie a quick, reassuring hug. “I’m just the same. And tonight we’ll dance the night away with some cute country
boys before heading back to the big, bad city. Okay?”
She handed over their tickets to the elderly woman sitting behind the wooden desk at the entrance to the marquee, offering her a bright smile. Maggie was right. She had changed. She wasn’t the same doormat Michael had walked over and discarded. No longer the little homemaker. The drudge.
This Scarlet woman planned on having a little fun.
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About Shelley
Shelley lives in New Zealand with her husband and a cheeky Jack Russell/mystery breed puppy.
Typical New Zealanders, Shelley and her husband left home for their big OE soon after they married (translation of New Zealand speak – big overseas experience). A twelve month adventure lengthened to six years of roaming the world. Enduring memories include being almost sat on by a mountain gorilla in Rwanda, lazing on white sandy beaches in India, whale watching in Alaska, searching for leprechauns in Ireland, and dealing with ghosts in an English pub.
While travel is still a big attraction, these days Shelley is most likely found in front of her computer following another love – that of writing stories of romance and adventure. Other interests include watching rugby (strictly for research purposes), cycling, baking bread and curling up with a good book.
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Other Works by Shelley
Contemporary
Stranger Things Happen
Wild Child
Cat Burglar in Training
One Night of Misbehavior
Blindside
Fringe Benefits
Lovers at Last
Ain’t Misbehaving
Love and Friendship series
The Bottom Line
Past Regrets
Farmer Wants a Wife
Clare Chronicles
Part-Time Lovers
Enemy Lovers
Military Men
Innocent Next Door
Soldiers with Benefits
Safeguarding Sorrel
Paranormal
Sea of Change
Price of Love
Middlemarch Shifters
My Scarlet Woman
My Younger Lover
My Peeping Tom
My Assassin
House of the Cat series
Sampled & Seduced
Captured & Seduced
Claimed & Seduced
Merry & Seduced
Stranded & Seduced
Seized & Seduced
Hunted & Seduced
Festive & Seduced
Sci-fi/Futuristic
Interplanetary Love
Alien Encounter series
Janaya
Hinekiri
Alexandre
Gay Romance
Eye on the Ball
Lone Wolf
Seeking Kokopelli
No Defense
Best Man
Curse Across Time
Last Wish
Historical
Mistress of Merrivale
The Spurned Viscountess
Evening Tryst
Copyright Page
Festive & Seduced
Copyright © 2015 Shelley Munro
ISBN: 978-0-473-34028-5
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without the prior written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Shelley Munro