ARE YOU READY?
Friday
at 7pm PST.
Samanthe
Beck
Author of:
He needs the kind of rescue only she can provide…
Glass artist Savannah Smith expected a marriage proposal for
Thanksgiving—just not from her strong, silent, super-hot neighbor. But when
misplaced mail and a wayward can of paint lands them in a compromising position
right as her family arrives for dinner, they assume he’s “The One” she’s been
talking about.
Then his family shows up.
Fate dealt a crippling blow to paramedic Beau Montgomery’s
heart, and he isn’t about to put it at risk again. Except, with his mother
crying tears of joy over his surprise engagement to the sexy little blonde next
door, he can’t bring himself to ruin her “Christmas miracle.”
Somewhere between the paint can to the head and the chaotic
family trip to the ER, Beau manages to talk Savannah into being his fake
fiancée long enough to survive the holidays.
If, of course, they don’t fall in love first…
“Our
families might expect an occasional display of affection.”
His
right palm tingled with the phantom weight of her breast, and his left hand
twitched at the memory of cupping her tight, round ass. “I’m sure we can muster
up something convincing.”
“I
don’t know. You’re blushing pretty hard right now just thinking about it.”
The
allegedly logical part of his mind insisted she had a point. “You want a
demonstration?”
She
tipped her face up, shook her hair back, and he caught a flowery hint of
shampoo or perfume, or maybe just her
drifting under the antiseptic hospital smell.
“A
dress rehearsal might be in order. I don’t mean to criticize, but the last time
you kissed me, your technique needed work.”
He had
no idea what she was talking about, but he had a strong and unwise desire to
trace every curve of her teasing grin with his tongue. See if she tasted as
sweet as she smelled. “I think you’re confusing me with someone else, Smith.
We’ve never kissed before.”
“My
mom’s got a photo that tells a different story.”
Another
small step on her part brought her body flush against his. The move produced a
swift inhale from her, and then her eyes rounded at the evidence of what he’d mustered up pressing against her
stomach. He found both reactions extraordinarily gratifying. She rested her
palms on his chest. Having her hands on him also didn’t suck. “Exactly how old
was I in this alleged kissing photo?”
Her
gaze traveled over his face and came to rest at his mouth. “Fairly young…and
fairly naked. We both were. To be honest, if not for the nudity, I’d have a
hard time telling us apart.” She licked her lips.
“Well,
brace yourself, Savannah. I’m all grown up, and you’ll know which one is me,
even with our clothes on.”
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