Take one sassy
Harland girl…
Shaye Harland,
sous chef de-awesome, desperately wants the role of Due South’s head chef.
Though a little out of her depth, she can totally cope with the extra demands
if she can resist her future brother-in-law when he muscles in on her kitchen. The Hollywood wannabe is
nothing but a troublesome distraction and he fries her sex-ometer to a crisp.
But as far as romance? Forget it. Love, when she finds Mr. Perfect, will be as
sweet as her to-die-for cookies.
Add a bad-boy
from LA…
Del Westlake
swore he’d never again set foot on the island he calls the “ass end of New
Zealand.” With his reputation as a sous chef in one of LA’s hottest restaurants
trashed, and his estranged father’s restaurant needing a head chef, Del wants
nothing more than to go in, get the job done, and get out. Except his feisty
second-in-command carves herself a spot in his heart and completely incinerates
his plans.
Watch the sparks
fly as they burn it up in the kitchen…
Winning a spot
on a TV reality show is just what Del needs to jumpstart his career back in the
States. Nothing can get in the way of him winning—not even the woman whose
trust he’d destroy if she discovers his secrets. But with a film crew capturing
the explosive kitchen chemistry between them, will his bad-boy ways rear up and
ruin his shot at becoming Shaye’s Mr. Perfect?
VISIT TRACEY'S BLOG TO ENTER
(Excerpt)
One second Del stood beside her all moody and
mysterious, and the next, his hands gripped the railing on either side of her
hips. He moved fast—fast enough that she made an embarrassing little eep-ish
squawk. Nowhere to go unless she became flexible enough to do a flip over the
wooden railing.
Shaye yanked her hands from her pockets and gave his
chest a shove. “Back off.”
Even after she added her sous chef do it now or die glare, he stayed, big
and bad and way too close. He continued watching her with dark and unreadable
eyes, his nostrils flaring slightly as he breathed.
Her hands didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t put
them back on those two hard pecs, since every single nerve-ending had soaked up
the heat burning through Del’s shirt and transmitted swoony, oh yeah sighs into her brain.
Stupid
nerve-endings. Stupid brain.
She wriggled her bottom, so she half sat on the
railing, arching away from him. “What are you doing?”
“Showing you the reason.”
The rough timbre of his voice stroked over her.
Wickedly dark, decadently rich, scarily addictive. Like chocolate, the quality
stuff made of eighty percent pure cacao.
He leaned forward, his face level with hers. “It’s a
compelling reason.”
Shaye’s hand shot out to grip his biceps—that or
topple backward—but God, he felt amazing. All hard, sinewy muscle and why the
hell couldn’t she unhook her fingers?
Her breathing hitched, high and ragged. “My sister’s
a cop, and I know how to defend myself.”
“So, show me your ninja moves.”
“Daring a cornered woman to hurt you isn’t very
bright.”
One of his hands rasped off the wooden railing and
touched the end of her ponytail. He selected a strand and stroked it down her
jaw. Shaye licked her lips, unable to suck her gaze from his mouth, which
angled closer. Close enough that she could tell the flavor of the last handful
of potato chips he’d eaten.
Salt and vinegar. Her favorite.
She strained upward to see if he tasted as good as
he smelled…Freaking hell—
Shaye reared back a little, hair slipping from his
fingers, her chin narrowly missing his. “Are you going to kiss me?”
Her heart gave a little bunny-hop at the thought and
leaped around her ribs.
“Not unless you ask real nice.”
“Ask you?” There was that damn smirk of his again.
She should’ve guessed he was playing with her. “When pigs fly.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, but the smile didn’t
falter. “Now you’ll have to say, ‘Please, Del. With a cherry on top.’”
“I’d jam that cherry up your nose before I’d kiss
you, Hollywood. Get outta my face.”
His gaze dipped once to her mouth then flicked up.
“I can’t go anywhere while you’re grabbing onto me.”
Links
Tracey Alvarez lives in the Coolest Little
Capital in the World (a.k.a Wellington, New Zealand) where she’s yet to be buried under her to-be-read book
pile by Wellington’s infamous wind—her Kindle’s a lifesaver! Married to a wonderfully supportive IT guy, she has two teens
who would love to be surgically linked to their electronic devices.
Fuelled by
copious amounts of coffee, she’s the author of contemporary romantic fiction
set predominantly in New Zealand. Small-towns, close communities, and families
are a big part of the heart-warming stories she writes. Oh, and hot,
down-to-earth heroes—Kiwi men, in other words.
When she’s not
writing, thinking about writing, or procrastinating about writing, she can be
found reading sexy books of all romance genres, nibbling on smuggled chocolate
bars, or bribing her kids to take over the housework.
Buy Links
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00NMYIRE2
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