About the book
A man driven by his
desires
Tyler Moore is considered cold, ruthless, and determined to get
everything he wants. CEO of a flourishing oil company, he thrives on order and
never gives up control to anyone.
The woman from his
past
Monique Delome has left her unhappy past behind to pursue her
dream of becoming a writer. Love is something she believes is better suited to
the pages of her novels and not meant for real life.
Whether in the boardroom or the bedroom, Tyler Moore is always
in charge. But when Monique Delome walks back into his life, everything
changes. A successful romance author, all the sexy leading men Monique writes
about strangely remind everyone of Tyler. Intrigued, Tyler sets out to seduce
the one woman he could never forget. Soon Tyler gets more than he bargained
for, and his grip on his well-ordered life is turned upside down.
Tyler Moore is about to find out what happens when a romantic
tale jumps from the pages and comes to life between the sheets.
Preview into the book
“If I can be of any further assistance, Mr. Moore,” a peppy blonde with too much black eyeliner said to the man in the impeccably tailored, dark blue Hugo Boss suit. “Please, let me know. I have your suite key.” She pushed the white key-card over the surface of the front desk. “Your usual order of Veuve Clicquot and strawberries will be waiting in your room,” she added with a welcoming smile.
The
self-assured gentleman removed his dark Porsche sunglasses and let his deep-set
dark brown eyes linger over the young woman’s attractive face. “Afraid I won’t
be needing that this time, Missy,” he murmured, getting a glimpse at her
nametag.
“Oh,
I’m sorry, Mr. Moore. I was informed you are always to have a bottle of Veuve
Clicquot waiting in your room whenever you stay with us.”
Wandering
over Missy’s stout figure, his eyes fixated on the way her blue blazer clung to
her ample bosom. “I usually do when I’m staying here for a relaxing weekend.
This time, however, is all business.” He placed his sunglasses in his jacket
pocket.
Missy
leaned forward, revealing her cleavage as her blue eyes meandered up and down
his body. “I am very sorry to hear that, Mr. Moore.”
The
flirtatious pout that puckered her red lips made Tyler Moore wipe his hand
across his chin, attempting to hide his cocky grin. At six-foot-one, with
black, wavy hair outlining his chiseled cheekbones and determined, square jaw,
he was used to getting such suggestive looks from the opposite sex. But he knew
that looks could only get you so far with a woman.
“How
sorry are you?”
Missy’s
eyes popped with interest. “I…I’m not sure what you mean, Mr. Moore.”
“How
sorry are you that I won’t be having any fun this weekend, Missy?”
She
fingered the lapel on her blue blazer adjacent to her right breast. “I would
hate to think your stay here would only be about business, Mr. Moore. If there
was anything I could do to change that….”
He
felt a kick of satisfaction as he gazed into her hopeful eyes. “Perhaps you
might come up with a few suggestions of other ways I could spend my weekend in
your wonderful hotel? We could go over them later…at the bar, after you get off
work.”
The
pale blush blossoming on her cheeks was so becoming that Tyler almost began to
believe their playful repartee had been worth the effort.
“I’ll
think about it, Mr. Moore.”
“You
do that, Missy. When you have an answer, you know where to find me.” He motioned
to his overnight bag and black suitcase by the desk. “Be a sweetheart, and have
the porter take my bags to my room. I have to meet a client in the bar before I
go up to my suite.”
The
flush on Missy’s cheeks was positively radiant. “Yes, Mr. Moore. Right away.”
Tyler
turned from the polished reception desk, unable to hide his smug grin. No
matter where he went, the lust in a woman’s eyes never got old. The entire
episode with the desk clerk had only reinforced his belief that it was his confidence,
and not his looks, that always got a woman to give him what he wanted. He had
learned long ago that his handsome face could only take him so far in life, and
had made a concerted effort to take control of any situation. It was a
philosophy he had incorporated into every arena of his life.
“I’ll
have to check back in with sweet little Missy. See how she looks without the
blazer.” He strutted across the lobby toward the arched entrance of the
Rattlesnake Bar.
A
warm glow of honey, onyx, and a contemporary Western-theme greeted him as he
stepped into the cool bar. Perched on the brown leather barstools, an array of
women sipped on a myriad of colorful alcoholic concoctions while trying to
chase away the sweltering afternoon heat. Tyler noted how more than one set of
eyes turned his way as he strolled up to the bar. He checked his confidence at
the door and pushed all thoughts of possible late night hookups from his mind.
His
flourishing oil and gas business was always more important than women. Besides,
women were nothing more than a distraction at this point in his life. Having
just passed the milestone of his fiftieth birthday, Tyler pondered that perhaps
it was time for him to stop pursuing such meaningless liaisons and settle down
with a tolerable woman who could cater to all of his needs.
“Two
divorces is plenty,” he reasoned as he arrived at the onyx marble and
teak-topped bar. Lightly stroking the smooth surface of the marble, he
remembered many of the encounters he had experienced in that very bar.
Snapshots of blurred faces and forgettable names skipped across his mind. Some
of the women had been exciting, a few horrific, but none had been…memorable.
You know who was
memorable, don’t you, Ty? his inner voice taunted. She was the one you let
slip through your fingers.
Tyler
snickered at his self-remonstrations. He hated to admit his inner demon was
right, but it was. She had happened so long ago, but he found it funny how
advancing age only seemed to make the memories of youth more poignant. It was
as if growing older brought into focus the emotions that the impetuosity of
youth seemed to blur.
No comments:
Post a Comment