Holiday Heat

2009 Ebook Cover

• Author: Jaci Burton and Lauren Dane
• Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
• Year: 2009, September 01
• Genre: Contemporary
• Setting:
• Series: None
• Amazon Listing: Holiday Heat
• Available Formats (As of 09/15/09):
  • Trade Paperback (ISBN-10: 1605043168)

Book Description

Blurb

From Samhain Publishing:

Some like it rough. Some like it naughty. And some like it forever…

Unraveled by Jaci Burton

Mitch is always on the lookout for the next great spot to build one of his famous hotels, and he’s found it—right on the white, sandy beach where he grew up. The only thing standing in his way is Greta.

The ramshackle beachfront motel her father left her means everything to Greta, and no amount of money—or hot nights of passion—will entice her to sell. No matter how much Mitch’s touch shreds her defenses.

For once, Mitch finds himself thinking about settling down with the right woman. Now if only he can convince her he wants more than her body—and her hotel…

Sweet Charity by Lauren Dane

After years pretending a one-night stand never happened, Charity has finally coaxed Gabriel back into her bed. It’s not just good, it’s fanfreakingtastic! Except he still insists he’s not good enough for her.

Watching Charity not just endure but enjoy his darker urges is better than Gabriel ever imagined. She deserves candlelight and roses, though. He’ll let go when she finds the right man.

Charity’s not having any of it. She knows what she wants, and she’s willing to play rough to get him…

Warning: This book contains bad boys and their toys, and stars surf, sand, bikinis, floggers, blindfolds and a crop. Co-starring foreplay, midplay, afterplay and naughty, explicit sexin’ everywhere—even (gasp!) in a bed!

Excerpt

From Samhain Publishing:

Unraveled by Jaci Burton

Chapter One

Mitch Magruder didn’t hear the word “no” very often, especially in business, and usually never from a woman. So when he heard that Greta Mason had said no to his offer to buy her rundown, dilapidated shack of a fifteen-room motel right on the sands at Ft. Lincoln Beach, Florida, which just so happened to be his hometown, he knew he had only one choice. He’d have to go home for the holidays, and take care of a little business while he was there. Turning down his sales team and an offer on paper was one thing. Turning down the CEO and a friend of her brother, someone she’d known since she was a kid? That might be different.

Besides, he could be damned charming in person. And surely she wouldn’t say no to him—not after he offered her enough money to put her two kids in private school and settle herself in a nice beach condo. Hell, he might even buy the condo for her. It was the Christmas season, after all, and he was feeling generous. Especially if he could get her motel out of the way and clear the beach for one of his resorts.

He turned left at the stoplight and headed down to the beach. The waves rolled up against the white sand shore, beckoning to him and making his stomach tighten. One would think at forty-three he’d be well past surfing age, but it seemed like he could never stray too far from the need to grab a board, climb on top of a wave and ride it in, no matter where he was. If there was an ocean, he wanted to be in it.

And hell, why not? He’d worked hard to build Magruder Enterprises into the multimillion-dollar organization it was. Last year he’d divested himself of his sporting goods company, which gave him more free time to concentrate on the resort aspect of his business, and more importantly, more time to play. He had money, he had time, and he enjoyed his life.

Just him and the waves, which greeted him as he pulled into the parking lot of the Crystal Sands Motel. Oh, man, this location was perfect. The motel sat on the white sand, not more than fifty yards from the water. There was plenty of room east, as well as north and south of the motel to allow for an expansive resort area. Beachfront property, baby.

He stepped out of the car and took a walk down beachside to get a feel for the traffic in the area.

It was pretty remote. Great when he put up the resort. Not so great for a fifteen-room motel. A few families enjoyed the water with their kids, but Greta had nothing else to offer them other than the ocean. No catamaran, no jet ski rentals, though he did see a net for beach volleyball. She was trying, at least, but her resources were obviously limited.

She needed a lot more.

She needed him.

“Excuse me.”

He turned around and was gut punched by a stunning woman. Sun-streaked auburn hair pulled back into a high ponytail on top of her head, she impatiently pushed back tendrils that the wind had blown against her face. Her shorts showed off tanned, well-toned legs, her polo shirt fit tight against luscious breasts and curved down around a waist made for a man’s hands. Damn. Dark sunglasses hid her eyes. He wanted to see them.

“Hi there.”

“Hi yourself. Um, you’re parked at my front door. You checking in or just looking at the waves? I mean, you’re more than welcome to park and take a walk on the beach, but if you could move your car, I like to keep the front of the motel open for guests who want to check in.”

“Your front…” Holy shit. This was Greta? He was never, ever at a loss for words. He’d stood in front of international conglomerates and executive board rooms and spun multimillion-dollar deals without blinking, but for some reason staring down at the gawky adolescent who’d turned into a siren had suddenly made him a tongue tied teenager again. “Yeah, sure. Let me go move my car.”

Then she smiled, and his dick took notice. Perfectly even white teeth and those full, kissable lips.

What the fuck was wrong with her ex-husband? This woman was a prize.

“Thanks.”

She pivoted on her bare feet and headed back to her motel.

He groaned. Her ass was just as good as the rest of her body. Rounded, touchable. Kissable. He was getting a hard-on. That just didn’t happen to men like him who prided themselves on control.

He focused his attention on the sand instead of Greta and made his way around the side of the motel back to his car. Unfortunately, she was waiting right there by the front door.

“I said I’d move it.”

“Sorry. We get beach walkers all the time using this place as a parking lot. I have to protect my paying guests.”

He took a glance down the parking lot. Yeah, all three paying guests. How did she stay in business? He climbed into his car and moved it to the back of the lot, then came back to her. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”

She peeled her sunglasses off, revealing emerald green eyes he remembered all too well. With a frown, she searched his face, then scanned his body quickly before looking up at his eyes again. “No. Should I?”

Okay, so maybe it had been twenty years or so. Still, it wasn’t like he’d aged badly. He was in great shape, dammit. He held out his hand. “It’s Mitch, Greta. Mitch Magruder.”

Her frown remained for a fraction of a second, then her eyes widened. “Mitch? Holy shit.” She bypassed the hand he held out and threw herself into his arms, pressing those full breasts against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and tried really hard not to get an erection. That would be bad for the business he was going to propose to her.

“Oh, my God, Mitch,” she said when she pulled back, still holding on to his hands. “I haven’t seen you in years. Like twenty years or something. How are you?”

Her smile was infectious. “I’m doing well. And you?”

She shrugged. “I’m managing just fine. What brings you here? Don said your parents retired to Hawaii to be closer to you. I heard you were quite successful. God, I’m so sorry to keep you standing out here in the overhang. Come inside.” She let go of one hand, kept holding on to the other and dragged him inside.

“Heath, this is Mitch Magruder,” she said, pulling him past the scarred tiny front desk where a young man shot his head up and stared at Mitch, wide eyed.

“Mitch Magruder the famous surfer?” Heath asked as they walked by.

“Yup,” Greta said. “The one and only hometown success story. I’m taking him to the house. Handle things, okay?”

“Sure.” Heath stood to lean over the counter as they walked down a short hallway and to a door that Greta opened with a key in the lock. She pushed it open and he followed her through.

He thought she’d take him to her office, but this was like a tiny house—really tiny. A small living room, kitchen area with eating area adjacent, and a short hallway that must lead to bedrooms. He turned to her. “You live here?”

She nodded and motioned for him to sit on one of the threadbare cloth sofas. “I have to. I run the motel, so I’m sort of on call twenty-four hours a day.”

This place was a box. His hotel suites were bigger than this. And she lived here with two children? Of course, she didn’t know that he already knew that.

“So, you live here by yourself?”

She had gone into the kitchen and came back with two glasses of iced tea, handing one off to him before sliding onto the sofa next to him. She pushed her hair off her face and smiled. “No, with my kids.”

“You have children?”

Her smile widened. “Two. Jeff is twelve and Zoey is ten.”

“So you must have a husband lurking about.”

Her smile died. “No. I’m divorced. It’s just me and the kids now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. He wasn’t good for me and definitely not good for the kids. We’re all better off without him.”

He felt the pain in every one of her words, in the haunted look on her face. He was never one to surround himself with women who had an ugly past. Most of the ladies on his arm were single. And younger than him. Of course Greta was younger than him, too, but not as young as the women he usually dated.

Not that he was thinking of dating her. Not at all. He was here to buy out her motel.

He took a sip of the tea and smiled. “Sweet tea. I haven’t had it in a long time.”

“They probably don’t make it in Hawaii, do they?”

He laughed. “No, not really. My mom still does, though.”

“How are your parents?”

“Loving Hawaii, and retirement. Dad golfs, Mom has a bridge club. They stay busy and travel. They’re taking a cruise over the holidays.”

“That’s great. I always did like your parents. I was so happy you moved them to be closer to you.”

“And how’s your mom?”

Greta rolled her eyes. “Feisty as ever. Always in my business. She never interferes in Don’s life like she does in mine.”

“You’re her baby girl. That’s why.”

“Uh huh.”

He laid his hand on her arm. “I was sorry to hear about your dad. He was a great guy.”

Again, the shadow crossed her face. “Thanks. We all miss him a lot. He was the light and life of the family. Losing him was hard. And even though he’s not around anymore, I feel like he’s still here watching over me.”

“I wanted to come for the funeral but I was in Japan at the time.”

She placed her fingers on his knee. “Don’t worry about that. Don understood. We all did. The flowers you sent were beautiful. So was the note and the card.”

“Is your mom doing okay?”

She nodded. “She’s fine. She copes, stays busy—mostly by getting into my business, like I said.”

He laughed. “Does she help you here at the motel?”

“Sometimes. But this is my baby. Dad left the place to me in his will. He knew how much I always loved this part of the family business. Don had the fishing business and he’s set with that. Me, I was always down here working the motel.” She took a glance out the window at the ocean. “Dad built this place from scratch. It’s not much, but it’s all I have left of him. He loved it, I loved it, and now it’s mine.”

Oh, shit. Now he was going to have to take a different approach entirely. He hadn’t known Greta would attach a sentimental value to the motel. He set his glass of tea on the coffee table. “Did your dad ever talk about doing any…improvements to the place?”

She nodded and put her feet on the table. “Yeah, we talked about it, but we’re not exactly a money making enterprise. We break even most years. Enough to pay the bills. With the house being attached to the property, I can live here and make enough to see to the upkeep of the facility. That’s about it. There’s never really enough to do much in the way of upgrades. I have ideas, though, so maybe someday.”

Then her eyes widened and she turned to him.

“Hey, you’re a bigwig in the hotel business.”

Come on, Greta, make the connection. Ask me to buy you out. Make this easy on both of us.

“Maybe you could give me some pointers on inexpensive ways I could freshen this place up, make it more exciting and attractive. I really need to bring in more visitors.”

Not exactly the opening he was looking for, but he’d take it. “Well, now that you mentioned it…”

She leaned forward, her eyes glittering. “Yeah?”

“I have an idea that I think will really excite you.”

She wriggled on the sofa. “Come on, tell me.”

He took her hands in his. “Greta, Magruder Enterprises would like to buy the Crystal Sands Motel property. Our intention is to build a resort right here on this spot.”

She looked at him for a moment, then her smile died. She jerked her hands away from his and leaped off the sofa, her bright eyes narrowing in anger.

“Are you out of your goddamned mind?”

Sweet Charity by Lauren Dane

Chapter One

The day wasn’t too bad. Despite the fact that the air had a bite, the sky was clear and blue. She’d had a nice lunch, stopped by to see her mom on the way back to her shop and Christmas was coming. Not only was it a good time of year for her business but white and colored lights decorated the light posts and shop windows. Charity smiled with some amount of satisfaction because she’d nearly finished with all her shopping. Even better, she’d just found a gorgeous menorah to sit in the front window of her shop because Hanukkah was so close to Christmas this year she’d be able to celebrate both holidays at the same time. Nothing like feeling you’d checked off more items on the never-ending personal to-do list.

As she turned the corner to head back to her shop she caught sight of Gabriel Bettencourt leaning against his truck, all long and sexy. And her day just got even better. Mmm! Dark sunglasses shaded his eyes, and the beard and just-a-bit-too-long hair gave him an edge that thrilled everything right down to her toes. Charity’s pulse sped as she took him in and pretended that just friends was just fine with her. Stupid pretending. All she really wanted to do was jump on him, knock him down and find out if that night eight years ago was a fluke.

She took her time approaching him, content to look her fill until he noticed her. Her fingers tightened on the lapels of the wool coat she wore, fighting against the always present desire to reach out and run her fingers through that black, shoulder-length hair.

He was dark and hot and she wanted to eat him with a spoon. Only, well it wasn’t ever going to happen again and she needed to accept it. Someday anyway.

“Hey, Gabe, whatcha up to?” she said, sounding confident and nonchalant as she walked past.

“Charity.” He reached up and removed the sunglasses, looking her up and down. At the blatantly sensual perusal her hormones threw a party. Man was she pathetic. A smile tipped the corner of his mouth. “Just waiting for my mom. She’s picking up bread for the nine hundred relatives showing up for dinner tonight. What are you up to?”

She moved close to him out of a sheer perverse need to see if he’d react. They’d been playing this game for years now and at this point, Charity wasn’t sure if it was real or all in her head.

“Coming back from lunch. Going to work now. Just took this way because I stopped in to say hello to my mom at the bank. And look at my reward for being a good daughter. I get to see tall, dark and delicious standing here in the winter sunshine.” She winked, meaning it. “Oh, Gabriel, you should give all this up and run away with me.”

He turned his head and they stood so very close. She drew in a deep breath, hoping for just a small touch but just barely missed. His eyes were brown, the color of dark chocolate and she knew that they went nearly black just after a kiss. Right then, they were pretty dark and she wondered if he’d kiss her. She doubted it. He never did.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me if you had me.”

He said it like a joke but it really just made her mad. She took a step back. “I’ve had you, Gabriel, remember?” Moving back to the sidewalk, she gave him a glance over her shoulder. Pig. “I need to get back to work. Have fun with your bread.”

She slammed back into the store and her assistant Faith—and yes, Faith and Charity, they got the joke so please don’t ask where Hope is or someone will kick you—looked up, raising a brow.

“I don’t know why I bother,” Charity muttered, hanging her coat up.

“With what?” Faith asked, looking through some new stock that’d come in the day before. “Oh, nice.” She held up a sweater and Charity nodded absently.

“Men.”

“Shut up. God. There you stand all tall, dark and gorgeous and you talk that way. Pffft. Men love you.”

“Sometimes.” She shrugged. The truth was, the specter of that one, disastrous night with Gabriel eight years before haunted her. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had good sex since. Or she shouldn’t say “since” because once they’d gotten naked it hadn’t been good sex at all. Gabriel was all steamy and sexy and sort of dark and broody. She’d heard rumors of how hot and commanding he was in bed but with her? So very not.

Was it her? Had he been all into it and then saw her naked and wanted to run? He only went through the motions—stilted and totally unsatisfying motions—because he was already naked?

Gah. She should just stop thinking about it. There wasn’t a damned thing to garner from this obsessive nitpicking of one experience she’d had eight years ago. There’d been four men between then and now and they’d all been very good in bed and had seemed to be into what she did. She knew she wasn’t a dud in bed, but in her heart of hearts, she hated the idea that Gabe was horribly turned off by her when she was so hot for him. He ran hot and cold! Some days he would give her one of those sexy looks like he wanted to do her brains out and others he put all that into other women.

She’d have given up on him if she thought it was a game but Gabriel wasn’t like that. Aside from all the sexual tension, they had a good friendship. She’d known him all her life and she liked him. More than that, she wanted him and had for more than just those eight years. Charity had wanted Gabriel Bettencourt for as long as she could remember. Having one small taste of him only made not having him hurt more.

Before she could discuss any of it with Faith, the store filled up with customers, it was coming up on Christmas after all and while many students from the university had gone home on break, there was a sizable local population out looking for holiday gifts and hot red sweaters to wear to impress recalcitrant men.

Hm. Charity’s gaze snagged on the sweater Faith had pointed out earlier. Blood red and soft looking. Pair it with a skirt or some skinny black jeans and it could be an eye catcher.

Gabe watched her walk away and tried, by sheer will, to make his hard-on disappear before his mother returned. Ah, that did the trick. It was good to know thinking of his mom made his ardor cool.

Charity had had him alright and it had been one of the single most embarrassing few minutes of his life. Shit, he hadn’t meant to make her mad or hurt her feelings with his retort. He’d been teasing, but poked into painful territory they never spoke of.

Still, Charity Harris looked damned good from behind, all long legs and high, tight ass. She’d looked even better naked, bearing the finest tits he’d ever laid eyes on outside a magazine. Acres of olive-toned skin and a mouth that made him stutter just thinking about it even eight years later.

She kissed like a goddess. Her lips were lush and soft, her tongue had been warm and wet and he knew from the way she’d licked at the inside of his mouth that she’d know what to do with it elsewhere, too.

He could still remember how her hair had felt against his chest as he’d rolled her over. And that’s when it all went south.

He’d wanted her so damned badly and she’d been beneath him, naked and way more than willing and he’d given her a night about as hot as a fucking dental appointment. It had been so disastrous she’d hidden from him for the rest of that summer and went to UCLA without more than a waved goodbye.

Oh sure they’d patched it up over the time she would visit on weekends and during summers. They’d rebuilt a friendship over the years. He’d taken over operations at his family’s dairy farm and she’d come back to Davis and opened up her successful second-hand and vintage clothing store near UC Davis. They were grownups now and both had full lives and all that jazz.

But always between them, the sexual tension simmered and he still wanted her so badly his teeth hurt. He’d always wanted her, wanted her right then as she’d stood just a breath away from him. But she wasn’t for him and he knew it.

Charity Harris was a nice, sexy woman but he liked sex rough and hard. It was holding back that night eight years ago that had created the problem. Charity was sweet. The kind of woman who liked candlelight not candlewax. He cared too much about her to do things she’d hate or, worse, things that would scare her and make her think less of him. The thought of not having her in his life at all, of having her be repulsed by him kept his hands away from that luscious body. He valued their friendship enough that he couldn’t stand to ruin it by pursuing her and both of them being unhappy.

No. He’d laugh with her and flirt a bit and find his entertainment elsewhere. She’d find herself a nice guy like his brother Rafe or one of his sister-in-law’s male siblings who oozed all that gallantry the women seemed to go wild for. Eventually his feelings for her would mellow out, he’d find the woman who could submit to him and still be an equal and this crush would be a fond memory.

Publication History

• 2009, September 01 - Trade Paperback Release (Samhain Publishing)