What better way to choose a great book for your weekend escape than by reading a sexy excerpt?
That’s the idea behind my feature, CABR Presents Temptation Thursdays
To avenge his mother’s mistreatment at the hands of her upper-crust employer, self-made real estate tycoon Marcus Pearson needs entree into their exclusive world. When D.C. socialite Pamela Harrington comes to him for help, Marcus realizes the golden admission ticket he’s been seeking has suddenly fallen into his lap.
Pamela will do anything to save her favorite cause, even agree to a marriage of convenience. The altruistic “it-girl” isn’t worried about the pretend passion with Marcus turning real; she’s sworn off powerful, driven men who use her for her family’s connections.
So she’ll deny the way her pulse races with one look from his crystalline blue eyes. And he’ll ignore the way his body throbs with each kiss from her full lips. Because there’s no way he’ll lose his blue-collar heart to the blue-blooded beauty.
A minute later, she opened the door and stepped onto the platform. She put a hand on her hip. “What do you think?”
The dress was a silvery gray, with sparkles on top and a flowing skirt. He leaned back on the chair and stretched out his arms. “It’s nice.”
“The dress is nice. You look incredible.”
“So on a scale of one to ten, what would you give this?”
He pushed himself to his feet. “That’s so boring, and we promised today would be about fun.”
He stepped onto the platform and placed a hand on her waist. Gazing into her widened eyes, he bent down and kissed her. He shivered, the feel of her in his arms heady. Her lips moved against his and he teased them. She sighed and grabbed his shoulders. With one last lingering caress, he stepped back.
“That’s how I feel about the dress.”
She breathed heavily, a flush on her cheeks. “Okay, I’ll try on the next one.”
He sat on the sofa, shifting to adjust to a more comfortable position. He imagined her sliding the silky fabric down her long legs and standing there, practically naked, while she figured out which dress to try on next.
“Carter is causing quite a stir,” she called from the changing room. “I’ve already received e-mails from a couple of women asking for information about him.”
He winced. “Stay out of that. It never ends well.”
“Thanks for the warning. Dress number two.”
This one was purple and only covered one shoulder. It fell in a shiny, satiny material to the floor.
“What do you think of this one?”
Her eyes were bright. She watched him join her on the platform and she wet her lips, her lids sliding closed. He placed his hand against her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the dewy softness of her skin. He touched his lips to hers. Then let her go.
Her lashes flew up, confusion swirling in her eyes.
He shrugged. “That dress is okay. The first dress was better.”
She lifted the skirt and stepped off the platform mumbling, “Apparently.”
When she was back in the dressing room, he walked over and studied the black-and-white framed photographs on the wall. “You mentioned the Holcombes earlier?”
“Mm-hmm,” she mumbled in the affirmative.
“Was Vivian Holcombe always that way? With the drinking?” He heard her movement cease behind the door. “Now that you mention it, she has been acting differently. Vivian was always a social drinker, but this past year, she turned into a teetotaler. When I saw her at functions she’d been limiting herself to club soda, with a twist of lime. Something must’ve happened, because it appears she’s back on the champagne train.”
“I wonder why,” he mused. Would knowing give him insight into why the Holcombes were selling the hotel?
She resumed moving. “I don’t know, but then, according to the Senator, I’ve been neglectful of my usual social duties.”
“Is he right?”
“Yes. But I was bored. And the shelter is more fun, more interesting. I like the work I’m doing there and I can see the effect I’m having. I don’t have that immediate feedback with the charity balls and galas.” She opened the door and stepped out. “What about this one?”
It was bright blue, it was lace, and it lovingly hugged every curve of her body.
His heart pounded in his chest and his nerve endings roused to life. He pulled her to him and kissed her. He wanted her close, needed to touch and explore her. His tongue swept past her parted lips and sank inside her mouth. She moaned and he tangled his fingers in her hair, wanting to get closer, go deeper.
The sound of someone clearing their throat broke through the fog. He raised his head, his breath harsh, and saw Hannah standing in the doorway of the private sitting area, a to-go coffee cup in her hand.
Pamela stepped out of his arms and smoothed her hair from her forehead.
“I’m going to take this one. Would you have any shoes to go with it?”