Marcia King-Gamble - Tempting The Mogul

“Because it’s not a good idea. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not?”

“Because I work for you. It could get uncomfortable.”

“To hell with uncomfortable. Tell me you don’t like what I’m doing.”

His lips grazed the side of her neck, nipping and sucking. She was pulsing all over, uncontrollably.

Kennedy’s fingers dug into Salim’s back, squeezing and kneading the hard muscles. His hands were on her butt now, bringing her closer to him until she could feel his hardness and hear his raspy breaths in her ear. The feel and smell of him excited her.

“I want to make love to you,” he said gruffly.

“We shouldn’t.”

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is a national bestselling author, and a former travel-industry executive. She’s lived in five different states and has traveled to some of the more exotic parts of the world. The Far East, Venice and New Zealand are still her favorites.

She enjoys a good workout, is passionate about animals, old houses and tearjerker movies. Marcia is also the editor of a monthly newsletter entitled Marcia’s Romantically Yours. Log on to her Web site, www.lovemarcia.com, and find out what she’s all about.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This one’s for Shanna Eilers—

my Pacific Northwest Connection and breakfast pal.

Dear Reader,

Seattle has always been a favorite city, and even though I’ve traveled the world, it still remains one of my top-ten places. It just might have something to do with me landing there right out of flight-attendant school back in the day.

Last year I had the opportunity to return to this city for an extended period of time. I found much had changed, yet my love affair began all over again. Seattle is simply the kind of place that calls to you because of its beauty and tolerance of different lifestyles.

Therefore you can only imagine how excited I was to pen a series set in this wonderful city. My biggest challenge was crafting my heroine’s personality because she is organized, orderly and totally unemotional—very different from me. I had fun with the whole process of her becoming unraveled when she fell in love.

If you’ve enjoyed reading this book, keep in mind there are two more books in the Get a Life series. I am currently working on the second. While you’re waiting, consider taking a little vacation, and put Seattle on your list. You’ll fall in love with the Emerald City just as I have.

Romantically yours,

Marcia King-Gamble

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

“Hey, where are you going with my car?” Kennedy Fitzgerald shouted, racing after the tow truck backing out of her driveway that had her precious Honda attached; the Honda she planned on paying off in full next week.

A few tendrils escaped the headband Kennedy had used to pull her hair back. In a frustrated motion she swept them off her face before flailing her arms at the driver. “You have no right to take my car! I’ve been making monthly payments!”

The tow truck driver spotting her came to a halt. He wound down his window and peered out. “Look, lady, I’m just doing my job. Pay your car note and the finance company won’t repossess your car. It’s the way things work.”

“Pay my note? What are you talking about?” Kennedy shouted. She could feel her face heating up. “I pay my bills on time, way before they’re due. Why am I explaining this to you?”

“Tell the story to the bank. Don’t beat up the messenger.”

Through his open window the driver flipped her a business card. It floated to the ground. As Kennedy bent to retrieve it he floored the accelerator, and zoomed off with her vehicle attached.

“Miss, you owe me forty-five dollars,” the cabdriver who’d been unloading her luggage carped. He’d been watching the action from a safe distance.

Kennedy let out a deep sigh and peeled off a few bills, folding them into the man’s open palm. Wait until she got her hands on her cousin Marna. How could she let this happen?

“Can I have a receipt?” Kennedy asked the driver.

He fumbled through several piles of paper and found a preprinted receipt. Where is Marna anyway? Why hadn’t she come out to greet her and help her unload? She had to have heard the taxi pull up, or at the very least the noisy tow truck.

Marna had been living with Kennedy rent free. In exchange for not paying rent, she’d agreed to take care of the triplex and collect the rent from the other apartments. This money was to be used to pay Kennedy’s bills while she was gone—including the car note.

To make it easier for the money to be deposited, Kennedy had asked her tenants to write checks directly to Marna. She’d instructed her to collect the rent checks on the first of the month from each tenant and deposit them in the joint account they’d opened up.

Knowing that a real person was responsible for collecting checks and depositing the money in an account had given Kennedy peace of mind. She’d left for her assignment in Tokyo feeling confident that her bills would be paid and her house cared for. For six months she’d been coaching Japanese executives on how business was done in America. She’d taught the Japanese everything from social etiquette to how to dress. The position had come with an attractive salary, plus housing. It had also come at exactly the right time.

The Fortune 500 company Kennedy had been working for was downsizing like crazy. When a headhunter called, she’d eagerly listened to his sales pitch. She was single with no dependents, and had a dual master’s in Japanese and industrial psychology. Why not?

All in all, not many thirty-year-old African-Americans got a sweet deal like that. Kennedy had it all planned out. When she returned to Seattle she’d go into business for herself. She’d hang out a shingle advertising her services as a bilingual life coach and corporate trainer.

The sky was an unusual blue for Seattle. Cerulean blue, instead of blue-gray. A cool breeze ruffled the budding trees and in the distance, Kennedy saw the snowcapped mountain peaks she’d missed so much and loved to hike.

She stabbed a finger at the buzzer and waited for Marna to come bounding down the stairs and help her with all her bags. Finally, growing impatient, she let herself in through the side entrance.

Behind her, even though it was the end of May, the tulips were still in full bloom. The yard outside the triplex needed weeding and she wondered why Marna hadn’t called the gardener as she’d been told to do.

“Do you need a hand?” a male voice asked, behind her.