Donna Hill - Secret Attraction

“I was waiting for you to come out so that I could take a quick shower.” She lowered her arms and stood provocatively in front of him. “I hope you don’t mind.”

He tried to avert his gaze, but she made it extremely difficult. She picked up her clothes from a nearby chair and catwalked toward him.

“Feeling better?” she asked. Her eyes moved slowly over him, then returned to his face.

He could feel the heat radiating off her. “Yeah.

Much.”

She reached out to touch his bare shoulder. He turned his head in her direction and before he could react she kissed him, her full chest flush against his arm. Her soft moan was like a song in his ears. She pressed her body against his and he felt the quick tightening in his groin. Her arm snaked around his neck and with her free hand she tugged at the towel wrapped around his waist.

“Touch me,” she whispered against his lips.

DONNA HILL

began writing novels in 1990. Since that time she has had more than forty titles published, including full-length novels and novellas. Two of her novels and one novella were adapted for television. She has won numerous awards for her body of work. She is also the editor of five novels, two of which were nominated for awards. She easily moves from romance to erotica, horror, comedy and women’s fiction. She was the first recipient of the RT Book Reviews Trailblazer Award, won an RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award and currently teaches writing at the Frederick Douglass Creative Arts Center.

Donna lives in Brooklyn with her family. Visit her website

at www.donnahill.com.

Books by Donna Hill

Kimani Romance

Love Becomes Her

If I Were Your Woman After Dark Sex and Lies Seduction and Lies Temptation and Lies Longing and Lies Private Lessons Spend My Life with You Secret Attraction

SECRET

Attraction

DONNA

HILL

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Dear Reader,

It is a blessing in life when you get to do what you love. Trust me, I am blessed! I have been given the opportunity to bring stories, issues and people to life that hopefully make you laugh, cry, shout, think, hug someone and seek out your significant other! And nothing tops creating a group of characters that you cannot wait to share with readers. That’s what happened with the Lawsons of Louisiana.

Can you believe that in the twenty years of my writing career this is the first time I’ve actually developed a family? The first book, Spend My Life with You, introduced the Lawson clan and showcased the eldest daughter, Lee Ann. Now you will meet Desiree Lawson, one of the Lawson twins. Her twin sister, Dominique, has gotten Desiree into a hot mess, to say the least, and it just may cost her the one man she cares about—übersexy restaurateur Spence Hampton. Against a backdrop of politics, fast cars, sexy men, ex-girlfriends and dangerous suitors, Secret Attraction has something for everyone.

And, yes, the dashing, sexy bachelor brother Rafe Lawson is still hot and single. Rafe was introduced in Heart’s Reward. So expect to hear his story soon!

I do hope you enjoy Secret Attraction. I love to hear from readers and I welcome your comments about the Lawsons of Louisiana. Who do you want to see featured next? Who is your favorite character? Let me know at dhassistant@gmail.com.

Until next time,

Donna

The near-deafening roar of the red Ferrari’s engine vaulted through her veins. Her limbs vibrated as the low-riding race car hurtled forward. Concentration and survivor’s instinct took over as images left, right and center flew by too quickly for recognition. The speedometer teetered at 159 mph. Oh, God. The car held the ground on two wheels, barely missing the guardrail as it made the long turn and pointed straight ahead.

A plume of smoke burst on her right as motion met the inanimate concrete wall. Almost there. Her heart thundered in her ears. Almost. Red and white flashed in front of her. One hundred … ninety … seventy-five … fifty … thirty … twenty …

Within seconds she was surrounded. The door was yanked open and the smell of burnt rubber, exhaust fumes and gasoline swirled in the air.

She pulled off her helmet and a head full of wild spiral curls sprung out around her face like a dark auburn halo. Her five-foot-five inch frame was dwarfed by the towering, bulky pit crew. The throb of the engine still pumped through her veins. She stood on wobbly legs.

“Great job, D.J.,” Mike, the pit boss, said, clapping her on the shoulders. “Took that turn like a pro. See you in two weeks?”

“As always,” she said, pride and adrenaline lifting the corners of her full mouth. She made her way off the track, toward the locker room, while the team pushed the car away.

The locker room was no more than a testosterone-drenched boys’ clubhouse, complete with backslapping, ribald jokes, cussing, beer guzzling and plenty of naked behinds. They’d grudgingly made room for her when she started racing about two years earlier, and once they witnessed her skill behind the wheel and her resolve to be respected in the locker room, she became one of the boys. Although there wasn’t a man among them that wouldn’t give his left nut for five minutes of her time off of the track.

To them she was just D.J., the pint-size race car dynamo that could beat some of the best of them on a bad day. Back home in Baton Rouge, she was Desiree Janel Lawson, twin sister to Dominique, younger sister to Rafe and Lee Ann, older sister to Justin and daughter of Senator Branford Lawson. In the cacophony of those larger-than-life personalities in the Lawson home, Desiree felt lost, a shadow. But here on the track she had found her footing, which wasn’t one of a political celebrity, “the daughter of,” “the twin sister to”—here she was a person with her own identity.

Weekend racing had become her secret passion over the years. She had always had a love for fast cars and would spend hours as a teenager watching the Indy 500 or the NASCAR races on television. She’d confessed to her twin sister, Dominique, that one day she would get behind the wheel of one of those babies, which Dominique had summarily dismissed as being ridiculous, dangerous and out of the question. What man in his right mind would want a woman who always smelled of fumes and gasoline? Not to mention that their father would be apoplectic and the press would have a field day.

So Desiree kept her dream to herself and began taking lessons in New Orleans, away from prying eyes. She could never come out publicly, she mused as she stripped out of her gear and got into the shower, but she could still enjoy her passion. The idea that it was her very own secret made what she did, twice a month, that much more exciting. The only one who knew about her “getaway Saturdays” was her best friend, Patrice Lamont, who was waiting in the lounge.