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A sexy, sugar-laden David vs Goliath story about a local bakery, a national chain, and what really matters.
Clover Loveday has worked hard to get her café Four-Leaf Clover up and running, her ticket out of an increasingly alarming financial situation and her dream come true. When she literally falls off her ladder into the arms of national bakery chain Upper Crust owner, sexy-as-sin Liam Sinclair, who owns the new bakery being built just across the road, she decides that no matter how nauseated she is about the idea, it is best keep your enemy close, rather than leave things to fate.
Liam has never put too much thought into the competition when he opens a new outlet, other than taking their customers and strengthening the Upper Crust brand. But here in the beautiful Dandenong Ranges, Clover Loveday’s cafe is a little too close for comfort, and Clover Loveday a little too good-looking. So Liam asks his PA to put together a Fact Sheet about his new competition. He has a business to run, a father to please, and hundreds of people to keep in jobs. Surely information can keep an unwanted strong sexual pull at bay…
A sexy, caffeinated, satisfying story about unexpected temptations, forgiveness, and putting love before money.
Enjoy an excerpt:
She could barely recognise the sound that escaped her mouth as hers. It was a sound from the back of her throat. Breathy and gravelly and potently full of wanton desire. But this was what she felt. This was what she wanted. Sensation raced through her body and pooled between her thighs.
She relaxed her legs, unable to retain any strength in them. The slow build of passion now quickly firing to a feverish need that demanded to be eased. A tremor of hunger raced through her as his hand rested on her thigh.
His fingers slipped beneath her hem, rising ever so slowly up her leg. She relaxed her legs, opening them enough for him, inviting him to touch her, appease her. Her body trembled, never having felt so alive as it did now.
His hand brushed her intimacy. She cried out, jerking at his first wonderful touch. The pad of his thumb traced the curve of her body and soon she was panting, skin heated with perspiration, heady with a blinding need, her underwear now a too-thick barrier.
His mouth left her breast. She cracked open hazy eyes to see him above her, watching her with savage hunger in his eyes. ‘I want you.’ His voice was rough and low and set her insides tumbling.
She sat, fingers working at his shirt. Her fingers trembled too much to undo the last buttons, so she slipped them inside the material, his heated skin scorching hers. Her fingers found his shoulders, caressing, probing, laving attention to the dips and undulations of skin above rock solid muscle.
He lifted his shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor and her fingers went immediately back to their ministrations. She saw his jaw clenching and unclenching and she wondered at the control it took for him to sit there and let her explore.
Her fingers slipped beneath the waist of his pants, his erection clearly evident, pushing against the material. His eyes closed and he tipped his head back as she slid her fingers over his groin, rubbing the tip of his penis through the material. She undid his belt, then the top button at the waist. His hand clenched around her wrist, and she looked up at him, their gazes locked.
There was a sheen of perspiration on his face, his features strained and serious, but she was drawn to the fierce burning in their depths. ‘I won’t go on until I know you want me too.’
‘Yes. Go on! God, I want you to go on.’
About the Author:
I live in Upwey, a very leafy suburb of outer Melbourne. I can hear most Melbournians say, ‘Where?’ Think Puffing Billy, the hills and inexcusably steep driveways and you're there. We have a house with room for the kids to play in the backyard, the cat to sleep wherever and the husband to lounge on a bean-bag in front of the telly. I love romance because it adds so much to the story. Everyone needs a little love to take them away.
Facebook Learn more about Charmaine Ross at www.CharmaineRoss.com.
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