Pages

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Stephanie Julian's No Reservations

When you first meet Tyler in BY PRIVATE INVITATION ( Salon Games Book 1), the guy’s kind of a stick in the mud.

He’s content to watch, to make sure everything goes according to plan. Tyler’s all business and, even though he’s co-host of one of Philadelphia’s most-anticipated New Year’s Eve parties, he’s doesn’t want to dance. Or mingle. Or do anything really.

He has his reasons, of course. I mean, the guy did lose his fiancée to a brain tumor. Cut him some slack. And to top it off, the first girl he’s attracted to since his fiancée’s death is engaged.

Luckily for Tyler, Kate’s the kind of girl worth waiting for.

Kate’s been engaged to her hometown boyfriend for years. Problem is, she’s not in love with him. And that’s not fair to either of them. When she meets Tyler at that New Year’s Eve Party and finds herself attracted to him, she realizes she has to break off her engagement.

In NO RESERVATIONS (Salon Games Book 2), Kate and Tyler begin an affair that neither expected to burn so hot, so fast.

And both are unprepared for the boundaries they’re about to push. Tyler has definite dominance issues, including a penchant for tying a willing woman to a bed with silk and velvet. And offering her the chance of a lifetime by opening her own lingerie boutique.

Kate’s more than willing to let Tyler introduce her to sensual pleasures she’s only dreamed about. And some she’s never considered.

But when she’s offered her dream job in New York City, will she leave behind the man she loves or stay and exert her own dominance?
Well, this is a romance, after all.

Excerpt:

Chapter One

New Year’s Eve
“I’m afraid you don’t look like you’re having a very good time. As one of the hosts, I have to say I’m slightly offended.”
The deep, masculine voice cut through the haze that had developed over Kate Song’s attention, drawing her gaze upward until she looked into the darkest blue eyes she’d ever seen.
If she were the romantic type, which she really wasn’t, she’d say they were the dark blue of a calm sea set in an arrestingly handsome face.
Strong forehead. Straight nose. Gorgeous cheekbones. Dark hair cut a little too long to be considered conservative but not long enough to be rebellious.
Even if he’d been wearing anything other than the custom-made tuxedo—like say, the penguin costume that unfortunate fool in the corner had chosen to wear to this high-class New Year’s Eve party—he’d still look exactly like what he was.
A rich playboy with endless pockets and probably an ego twice as big.
And he stared at her as if she were next on his to-do list.
Buy small European country before breakfast. Acquire Fortune 500 company after lunch. Host fancy shindig at night.
Why he’d added Sweet talk sour-looking guest at fancy shindig to that list, she didn’t know. And couldn’t afford to indulge.
“Then I’d have to reply that your powers of observation leave something to be desired.”
Kate made sure she kept her tone disinterested and let her gaze slide back to the dance floor. Her best friend was out there, dancing with a gorgeous guy who’d practically swept her off her feet the second they’d arrived at this party.
Annabelle had needed this night out and Kate hadn’t wanted her to go alone. Even Kate’s fiancé, Arnie, had realized how much this would mean to Annabelle. He’d told Kate to go, have fun.
He certainly hadn’t meant for her to flirt with a gorgeous stranger while she was there.
Low, amused laughter from above made her eyebrows arch as she slid another glance his way.
“Wow,” he said, “I don’t think I’ve ever been told off quite that politely before.”
One corner of his masculine lips had quirked up and his eyes had narrowed.
And her heart gave a little flutter.
No way. None of that tonight.
None of that ever, apparently.
Crap. Just . . . crap.
Hell, she couldn’t even get her snarky subconscious to lay off tonight.
She didn’t have to force a chagrined smile as her gaze lingered this time. And found her attention captivated.
He truly was a beautiful man. And she didn’t mean he was pretty.
No, he was distinctly, utterly masculine in a way that made her want to rub up against him and purr.
Danger ahead. Especially for an engaged woman.
Who was having doubts left, right, and center lately.
Sighing, she gestured to the seat next to her. “I’m sorry. Would you like to sit? I have to warn you, though. I’m probably not going to be very good company tonight.”
“And why is that?”
Because I can’t decide what I want to do with my life. Because I’m engaged to a man I’m not sure I love enough to marry.
“Because I foolishly thought these shoes would be a smart idea, and now my feet hurt.”
He laughed, low and a little husky and so very enticing, as he slid into the chair on the opposite side of the round table.
“Well, I’m glad to know it’s not the company.”
It definitely was not the company.


Stephanie Julian is a reformed reporter who enjoys making up stories much more than writing about sewer systems and school boards. She’s married to a Springsteen fanatic and is the mother of two sons who share her love of hard rock music and (kinda sorta) don’t mind when she doesn’t cook for weeks on end. You can find out more about her at www.stephaniejulian.com. You can also join her Newsletter, friend her on Facebook and follow her on Twitter.

No comments: