Saturday, September 05, 2009

Another Waldenbooks bestseller!

I've learned that TWO WEEKS IN THE MAGNATE'S BED has been on the Waldenbooks Top 10 Bestseller last for the last fortnight. Cool!

Here's a snippet:

He tapped the stack on his desk, beckoned her over. “Believe me, when you take a look at these you’ll be thanking me for filling them out here. I’ve helped employees through the rigmarole before, we’ll get it done in half the time.”
Okay, so he was being helpful. Then why did it feel like the Big Bad Wolf lending Red a hand before gobbling her up?
“Right, let’s get to work then.”
She plopped on the chair opposite his, drew the forms towards her.
He stilled her hand by placing his on top, setting her pulse racing as she stifled the urge to yank hers away.
“Not much intimidates you, does it?”
She raised an eyebrow. If he had any idea how her heart thumped, her lungs seized and her insides quaked at his simple touch, he’d withdraw that statement.
“I can usually handle stuff.”
Professionally, that is. Anything else and she was as poised as a toddler on ice-skates.
“Think you can handle me?”
His voice had dropped seductively low, the smouldering flame in his eyes warming her, warning her that she was in way over her head with this one if she thought for one second a small boost in confidence could cope with the likes of him at his tempting best.
“I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard.”
She almost bit her tongue in frustration, unwittingly adding to the wordplay as heat suffused her cheeks, wishing she had the spunk to toss her hair over her shoulder not duck her head like the blushing virgin she almost was.
His grin had tension strumming her taut muscles. “You’re very assured when you want to be.”
Using her brain to fend off his quick retorts, maybe. Easier than admitting she was lousy socially.
“Mainly when putting guys like you back in your place.”
He leaned forward, close enough to whisper in her ear. “Guys like me?”
Resisting the urge to jerk back from his proximity, she settled for a subtle slide of her hand out from under his instead.
“Overconfident. Smooth. Charming. Used to getting your own way.”
Rather than being offended, he laughed. “Guilty as charged.”
He leaned into her personal space again, crowding her, overwhelming her, confusing her.
“So is it working?

“My charm.”
“Not a bit.”

She crossed her fingers behind her back for the little white lie.