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Cover Art Copyright 2007
Kara
Elsberry |
Studs for Hire: Woman In Charge
Book
#2 Studs for Hire
ISBN
#0-9774682-9-1
Available to order from
Black
Velvet Seductions November 15th!
Available to order from bookstores late November 2007. |
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| “It’s a bit chilly in
here,” she fibbed, hoping to distract herself from the outrageous
direction her thoughts kept straying. Thanks to Alex, she actually felt
like she needed to turn on the air conditioning. She hurried from the
kitchen by another door that led directly into the dimly lit living
room. Heading for the large stone fireplace on the left side of the
room, she sat on the hearth and she set the flames to glowing within a
matter of minutes.
Brudy nudged her arm as if to say he approved, then trotted over to the
plush couch, jumped up onto the cushion and snuggled down into his usual
spot.
Casey returned her
attention to the fire, the flames adding to the already cozy atmosphere
of her living room. If she wanted to sway Alex to her side she needed
every advantage, and the proper atmosphere for a relaxed evening was
crucial. Especially after the minor fiascos she’d faced at both the
airport and at Heather’s.
When it came to
business, Casey preferred to always be professional, and to be in
control. Several times today she’d lost some ground in that department,
and now she deemed mixing in a dash of sex appeal a necessary tactic.
The trick with relying on seduction in business was knowing how much to
use, and when.
Although in Alex’s
case, she wasn’t sure any type of sexual undertones were a good idea—for
her sake. The guy had a knack for making her heart trip all over itself
the way it was. Two little words from him would have her falling at his
feet.
The flames leaped high
and danced in the grate. That’s how she felt—like those logs trapped in
blazing heat.
“So, when do we eat?”
Alex asked. “I’m starved myself.”
Casey froze, certain
she hadn’t imagined the suggestive undertones in his words. Her nerves
twitched.
“Right after you and I
get out of these damp clothes.” She stood, turned around and bumped into
Alex. “Oh!”
Alex steadied her on
her two-inch heels, his firm and gentle hold exuding a suggestiveness
she’d never experienced before. His gaze caught and held hers captive.
Mesmerized, she watched as his dark eyes flickered between tinges of
anger and desire. A
dangerous combination, she knew, but she couldn’t pull herself away.
He brushed a strand of
damp hair from her face. “I’ve got nothing against spontaneous sex,” he
said, his voice low and seductive.
Warmth that had
nothing to do with the fire behind her inflamed her skin. Neither do I,
she wanted to shout.
With mere inches separating them, Casey struggled to stay composed, to
act the professional. Alex smelled of rain, leather…and man, turning
composure into a foreign word. Her knees weakened.
And, ah hell, she
couldn’t breathe. How was she supposed to focus on business when she
couldn’t even take a normal breath around the man?
His gaze didn’t waver
and the glow of the fire added to the smoldering intensity brewing in
the depths of his eyes. A low moan escaped Casey’s throat. On its own
accord, her body leaned into him as though drawn by some unknown force.
A force she was powerless to stop.
It would be so easy to
fall into bed with this man. So much time had passed since she’d been in
an intimate relationship. She was ready. Needed it. Wanted it.
But then, she wanted
and needed chocolate everyday, too, and she didn’t let herself indulge
in the pleasure. Well…more like her wardrobe didn’t allow it. If she
could limit her chocolate intake, she could limit her daily dose of Alex
as well.
Yeah, right. What the
heck for? Life was short. Didn’t they always say you should eat dessert
first anyway?
Casey reached out to
touch him, dying to know the feel of the shadow of whiskers dusting his
chin.
“Since we might be
working together,” Alex said, “we should probably abstain from such
indulgences.”
Casey’s hand stilled
in mid-air, his words hitting her as fast and hard as if he’d punched
her in the stomach. Oops. She was getting way ahead of things here. She
hadn’t had a serious date in months. Maybe she was losing her touch when
it came to men.
No. She was simply
overacting due to a day that rivaled her worst nightmare. What she was
dealing with here was a man full of ambivalence—one of the most
dangerous types of men there was to get involved with. If she wasn’t
careful, he’d rev up her libido, screw up
her hormones, and drive her insane.
And what was it he’d
said moments before? Might be working together? Might was positive, but
she had a feeling she still had a ways to go to convince him to stay.
She took a deep breath. Alex Roy was going to be one major challenge for
her control department.
“I never said anything
about having sex,” she said, feeling more off kilter around Alex than
any other man before him. A muscle ticked at his jaw and she realized
she’d said the words with more force than intended.
Way to play it
cool, Case. So, she wasn’t having the same effect on him as he was
on her—a major blow to her already fragile relationship ego. She took a
step back,
frustrated and slightly embarrassed by the blunders she kept making
around him.
He released his hold
and let his hands fall to his sides.
Disappointed by the
loss of his touch, Casey resisted the urge to grab his hands and put
them back around her waist.
Brudy lifted his head
from his resting spot on the couch and barked, breaking the awkward
silence surrounding them.
“You can change your
clothes in the spare bedroom,” she said. “It’s the third door on the
right.”
“Thanks,” he said
dryly. Alex widened the space between them. Picking up his suitcase, he
headed up the stairs without saying another word.
Casey groaned. Again
she wondered if this lousy day could get any worse. |
|
CONTEST EXCERPT |
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Cover Art Copyright 2007
Kara
Elsberry |
Studs for Hire: Woman In Charge
Book
#2 Studs for Hire
ISBN
#0-9774682-9-1
Available to order from
Black
Velvet Seductions November 15th!
Available to order from bookstores late November 2007.
Back to Entry Page |
Alex shut off the
warm spray of water sluicing over his tired muscles just in time to hear
his cell phone ringing. Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed a towel
and reached for his phone where he’d left it on the vanity.
“Hello,” he said as he juggled the palm-sized phone in
one hand while attempting to wrap the towel around his waist with the
other. Silence hung on the line and he wondered if anyone was there, or
if the call had dropped. He pulled the phone away from his ear to check
the number. His heart hitched in his chest. Casey. He’d only left Omaha
yesterday, but that didn’t stop him from thinking about her most of the
day.
“Casey? Is that you? Are you there?”
“Hi, Alex. I’m sorry. Must be a bad connection,” she
said. Was there hesitation in her voice?
Alex’s gut tightened, sensing she had something
important to tell him. Had the Gridmore job been called off ? He hoped
not. The last thing he needed was more stress.
“What’s up?” he asked, not sure he wanted to know the real reason for
her call.
“Ah, I have an idea I’d like to discuss with you. Is this a good time?”
Relief eased the tension from his shoulders. If Casey wanted to talk
ideas that meant the job still had the green light.
“Sure. I just stepped out the shower.”
“Oh…I can call back…at a better time,” she said, sounding slightly
breathless.
A grin tugged at his lips knowing that he, even over the phone, could
affect her so easily. Glancing down at the towel tucked tight around his
waist, he saw she’d aroused a response in him as well. Sudden desire for
more intimacy than a phone call would allow made his pulse
kick into gear. Don’t go there, Roy. He’d come home, hoping to get her
out of his system, if only for a
little while. So much for that bright idea.
“No, its okay,” he cleared his throat, “what’s this idea of yours?”
“Promise me you won’t laugh.”
“Okay…I promise.”
“And promise you’ll hear me out before you say no.”
“All right,” he chuckled. “You’ve got me curious. Now, what’s that
amazing brain of yours thinking?”
“Well, since we’ve been struggling to come up with ideas for Heather’s
remodel, I thought maybe we could use some inspiration.”
Inspiration? Alex could think of at least a dozen ways to get inspired
with Casey, but not a single one had anything to do with Elvis Presley.
Damn. Why couldn’t he stop thinking like a hormone enraged teenager?
“You’re not going to make me watch every Elvis movie ever made, are
you?” he asked, forcing himself back to the real reason for her call.
“There’s more than thirty.”
“Ohhh. You and Sydnie think alike, do you know that?” she asked,
exasperation in her voice.
“We do? How so?”
“She asked me the exact same thing when I told her I had a great idea to
help us on this project.”
“Guess she’s in outstanding company.”
Casey’s smooth, rich laughter drifted through the line and he found
himself liking the sound far more than he should.
“Alex, you don’t by chance own a copy of the album Elvis recorded live
in Hawaii, do you?” she asked, forcing him back to business.
“Why? You need it?”
“No. Just curious.”
“Hey, stop making me wait here,” he said as he leaned a hip against the
counter. “What’s this idea of yours?”
“Okay. I think, strictly for business, of course…” she said as if
wanting to make sure he didn’t get the wrong idea about anything, “that
you and I should fly down to Memphis for the weekend.”
“Memphis? This weekend?” Alex froze, totally caught off guard by her
suggestion. He expected her to talk about fabric, tile and paint, but
this…? He raked his fingers through his wet hair. Now what?
“What better place to get the inspiration we need than Graceland?” she
said with excitement. “We’d be able to see how Elvis lived, what his
personal style was like.”
Alex braced his free hand on the edge of the vanity. What the hell was
he going to do? Agreeing to go away with her for a weekend to Memphis
was an enticing idea—and a dangerous one. Damn. If he thought he was
struggling to keep his libido in check now, what would it be like once
they flew away together? Spent the weekend together? Slept in rooms
right next to each other?
Alex suppressed a groan. He’d be crazy to say yes. God, he wanted to say
yes.
“Isn’t there a web site or something we can look at?” he asked, hoping
to thwart his temptation to tell her what she wanted to hear—and what he
wanted to say.
“Yes. I’ve spent enough hours on it today that Graceland security is
probably wondering if I’m a nutcase.”
Alex laughed. “Did you find out anything?”
“Yes. A lot, actually. For instance, did you know Graceland is the
second most famous house in America? The White House is number one.
Speaks volumes about Elvis’ popularity, doesn’t it?”
“Oh, just a little,” he joked.
“Alex,” her tone turned serious. “Surfing a web site isn’t the same as
being there and experiencing the atmosphere for yourself. Just think. We
can tour the grounds, walk the paths that Elvis walked, see his
furniture, feel his spirit. We can even have dinner at a nice restaurant
and maybe take in some live music. They say Memphis is where it all
began—musically anyway.”
“Why, Miss Burrows. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were asking
me out on a date.”
“Would a date…convince you to go?” she asked with a sultry tone.
Alex took a deep breath. She didn’t have to convince him to do anything.
He was ready, willing and able. Too damn willing. But he’d be certified
crazy to agree to this.
Turning toward the mirror, he wiped away the moisture and studied his
reflection. He didn’t look crazy. Tired maybe, but not crazy. In fact,
he looked like any other average American male. And therein lay his real
problem. He was thinking like any other average
American male lusting over a sexy woman. How could he help it? Casey was
beautiful, smart,
and hot. Now, if he hadn’t noticed her inviting lips, smooth curves and
full breasts, then he’d definitely be crazy—and blind. Not to mention,
demented. He’d simply noticed her like any normal, living, breathing guy
would. No big deal.
But agreeing to go away with her for the weekend, even if it was
supposed to be strictly a business trip, was a big deal.
Strictly business. Yeah, right. And Elvis was alive and well and living
in Alex’s garage.
Cripes. Didn’t he have enough complications in his life right now
without adding woman trouble into the fray? |
| |
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Cover Art Copyright 2007 Ellora's Cave |
Cowboy Fling
ISBN # 978-149910-920
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2006 Ignite
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Erotic
Category
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Paige parked the rental car in the crowded parking lot near the rodeo
arena. A billow of dust rushed through her open window and stung her
eyes. So this was Cheyenne Frontier Days? She couldn’t believe she was
in Wyoming. Even more so, she couldn’t believe why she was here in the
first place.
To fulfill her sexual fantasies.
Yeah, right. She would’ve laughed out loud at the idea
if she wasn’t shaking in her tennis shoes. Going on the prowl for men
wasn’t something she made a habit of doing. And to be honest, she really
didn’t know where, or how, to start.
“Paige Holister, you’re out of your league here,” she
said aloud with only her Dachshund, Nappy, to hear. The dog looked up at
her with big, heart-melting brown eyes as if understanding her plight.
Paige gave the dog a scratch behind his left ear, glad she’d brought her
trusted friend along for a sense of security on this insane trip.
“Nappy, remind me to send Dorie a really nasty postcard
while we’re here.”
The roar of the crowd filling the grandstands drifted
on the dusty afternoon breeze, telling her to get it in gear. The clock
had started ticking the moment her flight landed in Cheyenne.
She glanced at her watch. “Seventy hours and three minutes. Time to get
busy, Nappy.” She opened her purse and did one last check for important
items. “Cell phone, Mace, wallet, lipstick, hairbrush and…condoms! I
didn’t put those in here.”
Nappy barked and wagged his tail as if to tell her he
knew who had put the gold foil packages in his mistress’s purse.
“Dorie. I should have known. Of course she’d think I’d
fail to be prepared for—”
Thunk! The car rocked on its tires.
Thunk! Thunk! The car rocked again. And again.
Paige’s gaze flew to the rearview mirror. “What the
heck?”
“Son of a bitch!” a voice hollered.
Paige caught sight of two men using each other for a
punching bag, and jumped out of the Dodge Neon. Two cowboys scrambled
for the upper hand in the fight and were now beating on each other while
sprawled on the trunk lid of her rental car.
“Hey! Knock it off,” she hollered as she tried to pull
the grown men apart. A hard elbow in her stomach knocked her off balance
and sent her flying backward. Pieces of gravel bit into the palms of her
hands as she tried to brace her fall, but it didn’t do any good. She
landed squarely on her derriere with a painful thud.
The men slammed into the Neon again and Paige cringed.
“If you dent this car, I’m the one who has to pay for it,” she yelled.
But the men continued to beat on each other and didn’t seem to notice,
or care that she was even there.
“Enough is enough,” she grumbled under her breath as
the scuffle continued. Paige bolted to her feet, determined to put a
stop to the brawl. Dealing effectively with out of control situations
was one thing working in the ER all these years had taught her how to
do. Hopefully she could handle this one as well.
Paige grabbed the cowboy on top by the collar of
his shirt and yanked with all her might. To her surprise he came easily.
She shoved him aside and placed her shaking fists on her hips.
“Get off my car! Both of you!”
The cowboys looked at her, surprise and anger filling
their eyes. The bigger of the two men backed away and wiped his bloody
lip with the back of his hand. “I’ll finish with you later, Hart,” he
growled before storming away without so much as a word of sorry.
The remaining cowboy still leaning against the car,
removed his hat and wiped his brow with a red bandana. Settling his hat
back in place, he looked up at her from beneath its vast brim before
slowly pushing away from the car. A low groan escaped his throat as he
moved.
The guy was hurt, but Paige didn’t care. All she cared
about was the huge dent that now covered the trunk lid. This was going
to cost her big-time at the rental car company.
“I’m real sorry about this, ma’am,” the cowboy drawled
with a deep, smooth voice. “I’ll pay for the damage.”
Paige glanced in the direction the other cowboy
had gone, but he was nowhere in sight. “What about your friend? He
should foot half the bill. You weren’t out here fighting by yourself.”
“Don’t worry about it, ma’am. I’ll handle it.”
Paige turned her attention back to the cowboy and
her breath died in her throat. He was leaning against the car again, his
pain evident. His shirt was torn open and revealed a muscular chest
beneath that would make any woman drool. Paige averted her gaze to his
eyes and what she thought was safe territory.
Wrong. In spite of the fight he’d been through,
his blue eyes sparkled with mischief and not anger. Could it be the guy
actually liked fighting in a parking lot on a 90˚-plus day?
She scanned his face and saw the cuts and bruises
marring his chiseled features. Hmm. Devilishly handsome, and possibly
the answer to her mission. She swallowed hard at the prospect of getting
intimate with a man she knew absolutely nothing about.
What was she doing? Paige was a good girl. She
wasn’t supposed to have wild, uninhibited sex with a man she didn’t
know, especially one who obviously made fighting a pastime. What was she
thinking? Fantasizing about running her fingers over and down his strong
chest, following the sculpted trail of muscles that led down to…
Paige glanced up and saw he was watching her. He smiled a killer smile
that spoke volumes.
He knew exactly what she was thinking. Damn.
“You’re bleeding,” she said, hoping to
cover her embarrassment of being so transparent. “That’s a
nasty cut above your eye. You need to have that taken care of right
away.”
“Ah, it’s not the first time. I’ve had my share
of cuts. I’ll live.”
“No. Really.” She shortened the distance
between them to examine his wound. “This is very close to your eye, and
it’s deep. If we don’t tend it now, it’ll get infected and swell up like
a balloon. You won’t be able to see.” She couldn’t help noticing several
tiny scars dotted the skin near the corner of his injured eye and she
wondered if fighting was his favorite pastime.
The warmth of his skin seeped into hers.
The subtle scents of fresh air and horses mingled with his muskiness to
create his own unique essence. The man exuded promises of potential
sexual pleasures from every pore.
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“Hello, Syd,” a deep voice drawled.
Sydnie’s hand stilled above the long row of manila
folders in the top drawer of the file cabinet. Her breath caught in her
throat.
She knew that voice. Knew it all too well.
But what would Trevor Vanden Bosch be doing here?
Didn’t he get enough gloating in before she was practically forced to
crawl away from the advertising firm over a month ago?
Rounding up her courage, she turned to face the man
who’d helped rip her career dreams out from beneath her like a zero to
sixty in two-point-six-seconds sports car.
He leaned against the door jamb and folded his arms
across his broad chest. Standing there in a pair of jeans and a snug
fitting black T-shirt, the man who’d caused her to devour two quarts of
Rocky Road in one sitting, was more handsome then ever.
“What are you doing here?” she managed to ask around a
lump in her throat.
“I’m here about a job.”
“I don’t need an advertising rep, Vanden Bosch.
Contrary to what you might think I’m quite capable of coming up with my
own ad campaigns.” She slammed the file drawer shut. “Now if you’ll
please leave, I have a two o’clock appointment waiting.”
“I’m not here about advertising, Syd.” He shoved away
from the door and moved deeper into the room.
“Then what are you here for?” She arched a brow, ready
to battle with this guy if necessary. “Gloating is so unbecoming. Didn’t
your mother teach you that?”
“I told you. I’m here about a job. Specifically,” he
said as he pulled a folded newspaper from his back pocket and pointed to
a classified ad circled in bright red, “a position as a carpenter.”
A burst of sarcastic laughter escaped Sydnie’s throat.
His audacity dredged up memories she’d spent the last thirty days trying
to forget with frequent, expensive, trips to the nearest day spa.
Who did he think he was coming in here like this? Well,
he was on her turf now. And there was no way she’d let any man mow over
her again.
“I don’t have time for your B.S., Vanden Bosch. I have
someone waiting.”
“I’m your two o’clock.”
“Not unless you’ve changed your name to . . .”
She picked up the resume. “Allen Bosch . . .” her voice
withered.
“At your service.” A Mel Gibson-like grin tugged at one
corner of his mouth.
She’d been duped. A new surge of anger hit her full
force. “Get out,” she said coldly.
“Now, is that anyway to treat an old friend?” he asked
as he rounded the desk and stopped in front of her. The furniture she’d
picked out with such care at Ethan Allen’s shrank in his presence.
How could it be he seemed taller than she remembered?
It must be his boots. The soles of rugged work boots were thicker then
the dress shoes he normally wore. And those thousand dollar suits he’d
prided himself on had nothing on the snug fitting pair of jeans he wore
now. Along with a shadow of a beard dusting his jaw, this
side of Trevor exuded a maverick sexuality she’d never seen before.
Casey was right. Trevor was damn hot. A warm flush
prickled Sydnie’s neck as she realized she’d been sizing him up.
“You’re not my friend. Now get out,” she said bitterly.
Angry with herself for allowing Trevor to affect her senses, Sydnie knew
she needed to get rid of him before she did something stupid like the
last time they were together. Normally she didn’t throw herself at men,
but Trevor had a way of bringing her wild side to the surface. She’d
thrown caution to the wind before and had dearly paid the price for such
foolishness.
She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
“Look. I knew you wouldn’t see me unless I used some
kind of alias—”
“Trevor Allen Vanden Bosch. Of course.” She cringed,
wondering again how she could have let herself be fooled so easily.
“The one and only.”
“Well, Allen.” She placed her hands on her hips and
faced him with her full five feet, six inch frame. “This interview is
over. I’m afraid the position you’re applying for has been filled.”
“That’s not what your lovely partner told me. In fact,
she seemed certain I’d be the right man for the job.” He smiled and that
infamous dimple on his left cheek didn’t disappoint. She had to admit
that dimple was one of the things about him she’d never forget. Well,
and then there was his coffee brown hair with that stubborn lock that
always dropped over his forehead in a rakish way. And too, there was the
way his toned muscles strained at the fabric of his shirts. In a
business suit he always looked like the ultimate professional.
But today . . .
Today he looked every bit the bad boy Casey fantasized
about.
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