Title: Hurricanes and Handcuffs
Author: Jodi Redford
Genre: Contemporary Romance, Erotic, Billionaire
Gabrielle Scott is fed up with helping her playboy boss seduce and woo his countless bimbettes courtesy of her culinary masterpieces. Yeah, the pay is good, and you can’t beat the luxurious digs she’s treated to as his resident personal chef. But she can’t afford the frustration of living under the same roof with the one man who drives her crazy in every possible way. The damnable truth? She’s in love with the irredeemable bastard, and the only way she’ll get over him is to get naked under him. The plan? Attend Jax’s annual Mardi Gras ball incognito and entice him into a hot night of sin—right before handing in her resignation.
Jaxon Noble always gets what he wants. Especially when it comes to the opposite sex. So when Gabbi shows up at his party in an eye-popping costume and outrageously flirts with him it’s a foregone conclusion that she’ll finally be his. About damn time the stubborn woman came to her senses. He’s more than happy to go along with her game, and the combustible heat they generate together proves it was well worth the wait to have her. But when morning comes and Gabrielle calmly announces she’s quitting, Jax is faced with the sobering fact that perhaps money can’t buy everything. Or more to the point—the only person who’s ever meant anything to him.
For someone who’s used to winning at all costs, losing Gabbi isn’t an option. And Jax will pull out every sweet and sexy trick to convince her to take a chance on a forever with him. Even if it means handcuffing her to his bed.
Warning: This book contains a sassy chef, one determined bad boy billionaire, Fur-lined handcuffs and inappropriate consumption of beignets, several sinful drizzles of honey, and enough sizzling chemistry to set off the smoke alarms.
Excerpt . . .
Finally Jax broke the awkward silence. “Have you been crying?”
He frowned. “Your eyes are puffy.”
“My allergies are acting up.” She slid her gaze over his shoulder. “Where’s Bulimic Barbie? Unconscious on the bed?”
Amusement tipped the corner of Jax’s mouth. “Her name is Whitney, and she’s hardly my type.” He returned her squint with a chuffing laugh. “What? She’s not. I only invited her over because she’s the baby sister of Olivia’s newest boy toy. I’m doing my familial duty by putting in a good word for my cousin.”
She snorted. “The only part I believe in all of that is her being a baby. Freakin’ jailbait.”
He leaned against the corner of the marble-topped island, a broad grin lighting his sun-kissed features. “Someone sounds a little jealous.”
“Me? Of her? If you believe that, then someone’s been smoking crack.”
Her vehement denial only earned a chuckle from Jax. “I’m really going to miss your sassy mouth next month.”
Safe to say not as much as she was going to miss him. Yes, it was utterly ridiculous. She should look forward to having a week-long vacation and a welcome reprieve from the constant parade of women. Instead she dreaded the thought of being all alone in this big house with no one for company.
“You could always come with me, you know.”
She gaped at him, his unexpected offer filling her with a giddy rush of happiness. “You...want me to come to Paris with you?”
“Why not? Might save me from overdoing it on all of the French pastries. Got to watch my figure.” His gaze sparkling, he patted his washboard belly.
It took a moment to tear her focus from the lazy drift of his hand and her tormenting mental musings of the rock-solid six pack beneath his snowy white button-down shirt. Once his words penetrated her brain she veered her attention back to his grinning mug. “You’re inviting me so I’ll cook for you?”
“Well...” His expression grew wary. “Yeah?”
The spark of joy extinguished in her heart. “I can’t believe you!”
“I thought you’d like the idea. You’ve never been to Paris before, and it’s a great opportunity for you to learn some new techniques. My friend at L'Espérance has an intensive two day course that I think you’d really enjoy.”
Under different circumstances she would. Studying under Michelin star chefs and visiting Parisian farmers markets and cozy sidewalk cafes sounded like every wistful dream she’d longed for. But what Jax was suggesting had nothing to do with romance and everything to do with convenience on his end. He didn’t give a rat’s ass about spending time with her. All he wanted was someone to fix him his damn breakfast every morning. “So in other words, a working vacation for me. Wow, how generous.”
He frowned. “Why are you being so pissy?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She tossed up her hands. “Maybe because I haven’t had a day off in over a week, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve had an actual vacation.” And you’re breaking my fucking heart. She kept the admission locked inside her even though it was screaming to be released from the prison of her tongue.
“Gabbi, I swear to you that after the party is done with I’ll give you a whole week off.”
He pushed away from the counter and tipped a knuckle underneath her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. The hypnotic quality of those midnight blue irises reeling her in, she stared hopelessly at him. With his free hand, he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and brushed her cheek. He smiled. “You have flour all over you.”
“Hazard of the job.” Just one of many. The most dangerous being her standing too close for comfort with the man who made her crave sinful, impossible things like being tied up to that huge king-sized bed upstairs.
About the Author . . .
She has won numerous contests, including The Golden Pen and Launching a Star.
When not writing or working the day job, she enjoys gardening and way too many reality television shows.
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