Jillian's Job
What good is a dream income, access to a private jet, all the perks that go with being Mike Furie’s überproficient personal assistant, if Jillian has no life? She wants a life with a man in it. And staying with overbearing, totally sexy, self-serving bachelor Mike, will lead nowhere.
A trip to Aspen to “rescue” Mike from the clutches of the latest woman seeking to sink her claws into him, an excess of champagne to fortify her, and she tells him what she thinks of his high-handed tactics. She’s quitting. Again. So how the hell did she end up in bed with him in a Tahoe honeymoon suite, naked? Why can’t she recall how her signature got on that marriage license?
Mike discovers talents he never knew Jill possessed. Now he has her right where he wants her. And he wants her again…and again. In his bed and under him. But it’s not all about the lust, and if he gets his way, Jillian won’t be leaving his side, or his bed—ever.
Excerpt:
She stepped up the final carpeted stair and paused, glancing around the smaller salon that opened up over the gallery at the head of the stairs, before narrowing to the corridor that led to the bedrooms at the back of the level. The bronze and smoked glass chandelier at the apex of the vaulted ceiling cast warm light over the area, and made her shimmery gold overdress and glittering jewels look even more amazing than they had in the showroom. She decided that not a soul would recognize her unless she introduced herself, so she gathered her courage and moved slowly toward the center of the gallery, looking about for Furie.
Heads turned to follow her progress, but no one called out her name. She was not a familiar face to the beautiful people. Only his employees knew her well enough to recognize her. Her anonymity was assured.
And then she saw him, standing uncomfortably in a tight group of people, with a stunningly beautiful supermodel type holding onto his arm like she had grown there, her laugh a high tinkle of feigned amusement that never quite reached those gorgeous amber-colored eyes. She stood for a long moment, relishing the amount of discomfort he was experiencing, waiting for his eyes to swivel her way before she made her grand entrance.
A man turned to glance at her from a jovial conversation beside her, and gave her a keen once-over before sidling up to her and introducing himself. He didn’t have to. She would known his face from the magazine covers and the tabloids as Jerrod Lane, two-time Academy Award winning actor and heartthrob of millions of females the world over. She glanced at him with a cool smile and replied to his outrageous compliment with a simple thank-you, before turning her gaze back to her boss.
“I haven’t seen you around before. And from the look of that boulder on your hand, I’d say you were taken…but Heaven help me, I wouldn’t be a red-blooded male if I didn’t try.” Jerrod slid one lean hand around her waist, and tried to draw her closer. His reward was an acid stare that could have wilted the entire White River National Forest. He grinned and released her waist, and said in a husky tone that had dropped an octave, “Who’s the lucky devil who’s got you wrapped around his pinkie?”
The moment he spoke, Michael Furie glanced up, his ice-laden dark blue gaze locked with hers, and his body unfurled from the defensive posture he’d assumed, forcing the female hanger-on to loosen her grip. Jill tried not to look shaken. She tried not to react to the heat that ran through her like a shot of fire from head to toe-tips, making her wonder numbly if the Manolo Blahniks had melted off. She smiled across the room at him, and Jerrod followed her gaze, instantly whistling softly and backing off a step.
“I should have guessed, Gorgeous. But if you ever decide to trade up, I’m always around.” He vacated his spot beside her as Furie slowly extracted himself from the other woman’s grasp, with a quiet “Excuse me.” Heads turned as he stepped out of the tight knot of bodies and moved across the gallery toward her, and she fought the urge to bite her knuckles and whimper. That man had such a walk!
She managed a brilliant smile up into his eyes as he stopped so close, she could feel his body heat through the silk of her gown, and she placed her hand with the blinding rock on it on his forearm, and said just loudly enough to be overhead for about ten feet, “Mike! Darling! I’m sorry I’m late!”
She noted the circuitous route those eyes took as they slipped over her gown, her jewelry, and the impressively breathtaking engagement ring she was prominently displaying, and a muscle twitched in the deep groove beside his mouth. He seemed to be fighting some dark and angry emotion that she feared she would hear about later, and in the most uncomplimentary tones possible, but surprisingly, he gave her a sexily crooked smile.
“Don’t I even get a kiss after waiting all this time for you to finally show up?” His voice was a sexy growl that was just loud enough for everyone within ten feet to hear clearly, although he pretended to be speaking for her ears alone. Jill felt like they were in a fishbowl, the way all eyes were glued to them. She stood up on her tiptoes and aimed for his cheek. But before her lips made contact, he turned his head and she ended up planting one smack-dab on his smiling mouth. And oh, what a mouth the man had…
And he didn’t settle just for a friendly kiss. He slid his arms around her body and dragged her up against his chest, smoothly covering her jerk of shock by catching the back of her head in the palm of one hand and slanting his mouth to take hers completely. His strong, champagne-flavored tongue slipped easily past her lips as she opened them to ask what the hell he was doing. Her heart rate ratcheted up as he traced the inside of her mouth sensuously. If she hadn’t known her boss so damned well, that kiss might have fooled even her, but she figured he had paid through the nose to be kissed, and she decided that she might as well let ’er rip.
Warring with his tongue, she explored the warm depths of his mouth as she slid her hands up behind his head and arched her body into his tuxedo, pressing her hips against his suddenly burgeoning cock, ignoring the rush of excitement his highly obvious arousal gave her, as she did exactly what she had wanted to do for the past six-plus years.
She kissed him—savagely, hungrily, possessively! Giving as good as she got from him, even though with him it was just an act to discourage the positively fuming blonde who had turned and stomped off toward the stairs back to the second level.
His mouth was decadently hot and delicious. The expensive champagne was dry and heady on his tongue, and she could not possibly have imagined how it would feel to have him kissing her like this—not even in her wildest wet dreams! His hot, spicy masculine scent filled her nostrils. Her heart felt like a super ball that might easily zap its way straight out the front of her silk gown and go bouncing wildly across the carpet if he kept kissing her.
Tongues tangling voraciously, breathing uneven and heated, their bodies were plastered hungrily against each other as his arms pulled her so tight into his embrace she could almost feel his spine. And then his hand cupped her ass in a familiar, possessive squeeze, and she inhaled and tried to back away. He murmured huskily against her lips, “Relax. You’ll survive.”
Welcome, Tessie! Thanks for coming over today!
I’m a wife, mother, grandmother, animal lover, Human Resources Manager, and author.
You write romance for Resplendence. Tell me, what do you love most about being a Resplendence author?
The creative support and encouragement I’ve received. Training Randi is my first book with RP. From manuscript acceptance, to collaborating with the other Carnal Reunions authors, to cover design, and edits; I know there is a team of professionals who are dedicated to success. It is a pleasure to work with them.
How many books have you written?
I have one book published and three others are contracted. Five WIPs are on my computer and a multitude of ideas for more stories are bouncing around in my head.
Out of all of the heroes you have written, which one is your favorite? Why?
I find that my hero worship is a fickle thing; my favorite is always the one I’m currently working with. While doing edits for Training Randi, I loved getting re-acquainted with Jeff Briggs. Driven, confident, self-disciplined; he doesn’t give up when he wants something, and he’s been wanting Miranda Ellson for ten long years. Toss in his sense of humor, emotional openness, and “masterful” talents in the loving department, he’s a true force to be reckoned with!
Many writers have a set routine they follow when they write. Do you have such a routine?
Sorry for the cliché, but being a published author is my dream come true. I chose to answer this question as a personal intervention. I have NO routine! I continue to allow my day job (can’t help this one, health benefits and all) to take precedence. And then phone calls, pretty shiny things, checking emails, reality TV shows, house chores etc. all conspire to interrupt my creative flow. Mercifully, I love focusing on edits! There, maybe seeing this in print will force me to work on this particular shortcoming.
Do you have a book you would just love to discuss with us today? Did you bring an excerpt?
Of course! I’m thrilled to give the readers a sneak peek of Training Randi, my contribution to the Carnal Reunions anthology.
Miranda Ellson graduated from college with a degree in design in one hand and a ticket to London in the other. Ten years, five job changes and three boring, unfulfilling relationships later she’s back at WIU to re-connect with old friends, enjoy the campus activities and take a break from…oh who the hell is she kidding? Jeff Briggs, former college neighbor and best bud, now successful gym owner, lives in town. He’s the only guy she has ever known who could set her panties on fire by simply walking into a room and Randi is sick and tired of only hooking up with him in her dreams. This may be her only chance to discover exactly what kind of personal training he has to offer.
Miranda crossed the street and walked quickly over to a bench on the far corner. It was probably for the best if she just got back in her car and headed home to Chicago, but it was a long drive and she should rest first. She dug around in her purse, finding her cell phone and the list of hotels that the reunion committee had sent, and started dialing. By the time she hung up with the last hotel, still hearing the clerk laughing at her request for a room during one of the busiest weeks on campus, tears clouded her vision. Maybe she could nap in her car?
Not paying the slightest bit of attention to her surroundings, Miranda jumped up from the bench and collided hard into an immovable object.
“Whoa, impressive hit.” Strong hands gripped her hips. “If you’d lowered your right shoulder a bit, I’d be flat on my ass.” Lord that voice. The deep baritone mixed with the southern drawl sent butterflies dancing in her tummy. How many nights had she imagined him whispering all of the naughty deeds they were going to do together? Miranda squealed in surprise when he lifted her off the ground and hugged her tightly.
“Jesus, Jeff. You startled the crap out of me,” she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged back. How freaky good was this? A faint scent, spicy and familiar, instantly sent a rush of heat to her pussy. “It’s not nice to sneak up on a girl, you know.” Her fingers inadvertently tightened on the corded muscles of his shoulders when he set her down. Maybe it would be okay if she held onto him for a second longer?
“You were so lost in your thoughts I’m pretty damn sure I could have parked my pickup right here on the sidewalk, and you wouldn’t have noticed.”
“Point taken,” she laughed. “It’s good to see you again, Jeff.” Her pulse rate sped up when his hands moved to lay scandalously close to the upper swell of her ass.
“Ah, Miranda, it’s a whole bunch better than ‘good’ to see you. What are you doing out here plowing into innocent pedestrians? Shouldn’t you be hanging out with the other Gracie Girls, getting caught up on ten years of goings on?”
“They don’t know I’m in town yet. I never exactly committed to when I was going to get here or where I was staying. I was kind of working up the nerve to go in when I bumped into you.”
“You were starting to run down the street in the opposite direction, darlin’.”
“Oh you noticed that, did you?” She glanced down at the ground while nervously shuffling her feet.
“It was hard to miss.” Jeff chuckled, lifting her chin with a finger. “Why the sad eyes, Randi?” The look of concern on his face was heartwarming. “Tell your old buddy what’s going on. We used to be able to talk about anything.” Jeff stared down at her with a crooked grin and a raised eyebrow. “If I remember correctly, we would have done a lot more than just talk if you’d had your way,” Heat instantly infused her cheeks.
During the two years they had been neighbors and friends, they’d spent countless hours studying together, solving the world’s problems with high-spirited political debates and talking about their plans for the future. They had also spent a great deal of time and energy not dealing with the serious sparks of sexual tension that arched every time they were in the same room. Miranda had shamelessly used every trick in the book to seduce him, but despite her most fervent efforts, he always gently refused her advances with soothing compliments and vague explanations of her not understanding what a relationship with him would mean.
“It’s not very gentlemanly of you to remind me of that, Jeff,” she admonished with a grin. “I was young and inexperienced, and with you being so much older and wiser than I was; well I was just bowled over by your manly goodness.” Miranda stared up at him with mischief dancing in her eyes.
“There’s the Randi I know: sharp tongued and sexy as hell.” She gasped in surprise when he hauled her up against his solid frame and planted a kiss on her forehead. “What do you say we take a walk and get reacquainted? Maybe if you start out with me it won’t be such a big deal to meet up with the others.” He let her go, took a step back and held out his hand in invitation.
Miranda didn’t hesitate. She placed her hand in his, allowing him to guide her toward the southern end of campus. His grip was strong but the pace he set was slow and comfortable. She glanced over at him and smiled, taking her first good look at the man he’d become. He hadn’t gotten any taller, not that he needed to at probably six foot three or four inches. His deep brown hair was cut short now, his face a bit fuller and there were little personality lines around his piercing green eyes. The black t-shirt he wore did nothing to disguise the muscular physique beneath, and did everything to accentuate his perfectly defined biceps. The faded, snug blue jeans sitting low on his hips further accentuated the fact that physical fitness was still a big part of his life.
Images of him pumping iron, shirtless and glistening with perspiration, assaulted her, and she clumsily stumbled over a piece of uneven pavement. Jeff released her hand and drew her against his hip without breaking their stride. She felt the heat of his palm right through the thin cotton material of her skirt. Oh yeah, this was going to help her pay attention to where they were going.
Thanks so much for having me, Fran.
Another new release coming up on September 25, 2009!
Does this cover look familiar?
Ever had a problem dreaming up your next hero?
My, Oh, My! Choices, choices!
Hallie's Cats“You all right?” The quiet, deep voice was directly behind her. The unexpectedness of the question finished her. The milk exploded, drenching her in white, and she gave a shriek of shock, falling sideways onto the pitted sidewalk, her paralyzed body going suddenly limp. It felt as if her heart was going to explode like the damn milk! She knew the voice had come from the other side of the tall, wrought iron and stone wall, but the next thing she saw was a man bending over her, reaching out a hand to take her bags from her clenched hands.
What the hell? She blinked up at the man then back along the sidewalk. There was no gate except the one the dog had burst from, and that gate was over a hundred feet or more away. He would have had to climb or vault over the wall, and that, even for an athletic man, would take some doing.
“Sorry about Tigger. He isn’t dangerous but he can be pretty damn scary,” the deep, warm-honey voice murmured as she was relieved of her destroyed bag, then the intact one was lifted from her death grip. “Come on, and I’ll get you some towels.”
Hallie reached for the lean hand dangling in front of her face, and allowed the stranger to drag her up from her ignominious repose on the milk-splattered concrete. She patted herself down for possible injuries before she blinked up at him and rasped incredulously, “You call that…that…thing…Tigger?” Visions of a sweet boingy critter almost made her laugh.
It was then she saw him clearly for the first time, and she almost sat back down on the wet sidewalk again.
Stunning dark gold eyes in a face that dragged her breath away and held it captive, forcing her to fight for air. Odd eyes on a man whose hair was jet black. And after she managed to get past that face, her eyes slid down the long length of a body so utterly mouth-watering, she was sure she’d died and gone to Heaven. Because there wasn’t a man alive who could possibly look that frigging good in a ratty T-shirt and torn jeans.
Those gorgeous eyes looked so concerned, she barely managed to restrain her raging libido before she blurted out something completely unsuitable, like a squeal of delight as she tackled him and abused him terribly. She had the insane desire to lick him. Nibble him!
Yeah, he should be worried! Walking around unprotected from random female attackers who would love to get a piece of all that marvelous— Ooooh! Hallie dragged her milk-wet hand out of his and forced a shaky laugh.
“Did my steak survive, or am I gonna have to go back down the hill and catch that bus back to the supermarket?”
Dark brows drew together over those glinting topaz eyes, and his hand shot out to stop her from sagging sideways again. “You probably shouldn’t try to get up yet,” that delicious warm-honey voice said, somewhere just above her left ear.
Why the hell am I sinking again?
“No! I-I’m…fine,” were the last words out of her mouth before he tilted oddly and vanished from her sight. Whoa, she was back on the damn sidewalk again? Oh, there he was, leaning down and reaching to check her pulse. Why the hell was he bending over her again? Mmmm, she would love to reach up and drag his gorgeous body down to her level. And what the hell was he…
“You think she’s sick?” a quiet male voice asked somewhere beyond her line of sight.
“I think she got a good solid whiff of pheromones. She’s totally out of it. Here, you get the bags,” that lovely warm-honey voice murmured, and she was suddenly rising from the sidewalk, floating, and then she was nuzzling into a hard chest and inhaling the delicious, heady scent of the man with the golden eyes. Ooooh, he’s totally edible!
“That’s not normal, is it?” That quiet voice again.
“No. I think she’s sensitive to us for some reason. I feel like a fucking catnip mouse.” The warm-honey voice sounded irritated, but who cared, when he smelled so damn marvelous?
She’s an erotic romance writer, with five best sellers. Her fans adore her. She’s making excellent money. All by writing about a man she dreamed up many years ago. Her hero is handsome, virile, sexy, strong, sensitive and a complete gentleman.
He’s a hot-headed, sex-on-the-hoof pro wrestler. He has a reputation for being the hottest, nastiest man on the mats. The fact that his face and body are plastered all over a bunch of mushy romance novels written by a woman with a death wish doesn’t sit well on those massive shoulders. His agent’s demanding monetary retribution from the woman who’s dared to use his image on her covers but he has another form of retribution in mind…and it has nothing to do with money.
She was his the moment he touched her. He came out of her dreams to claim her, and she wants every hot, throbbing inch of that delicious man.
He wants her, naked—at his mercy. One hot, orgasmic night wasn’t nearly enough. She ran, but he’s on the hunt—
He’ll find her—
Out of Her Dreams is now available at Ellora's Cave/Jasmine-Jade
Now, you can't blame me for putting this totally naughty picture here...
Release Date Set for Out of Her Dreams!
She’s an erotic romance writer, with five best sellers. Her fans adore her. She’s making excellent money. All by writing about a man she dreamed up many years ago. Her hero is handsome, virile, sexy, strong, sensitive and a complete gentleman.
He’s a hot-headed, sex-on-the-hoof pro wrestler. He has a reputation for being the hottest, nastiest man on the mats. The fact that his face and body are plastered all over a bunch of mushy romance novels written by a woman with a death wish doesn’t sit well on those massive shoulders. His agent’s demanding monetary retribution from the woman who’s dared to use his image on her covers but he has another form of retribution in mind…and it has nothing to do with money.
She was his the moment he touched her. He came out of her dreams to claim her, and she wants every hot, throbbing inch of that delicious man.
He wants her, naked—at his mercy. One hot, orgasmic night wasn’t nearly enough. She ran, but he’s on the hunt—
He’ll find her—
Out of Her Dreams will be available June 12 at Ellora's Cave/Jasmine-Jade
