Joss Wood - More than a Fling?

Ross almost looked around, in the vague hope that someone else had suddenly joined the conversation, because he could not believe that those words had come from his own mouth. What an idiot.

He looked at Ally, who looked as shocked as he was feeling. He expected her to make a fish noise at any minute. The words had slipped out. He’d been thinking them, but he normally managed to keep his thoughts behind his teeth. It was pushing her into a corner, asking her to go beyond the call of duty. Of course she would say no—probably at the same time that she threw that glass of red wine in his face.

And he would so deserve it. What was he thinking? Oh, wait … Maybe he wasn’t thinking … maybe he was allowing his little head to do the talking.

Ally just stared at him with her surprised fish face and he shifted in his chair. He wished she would say something and give him a hint of the amount of crap he’d just jumped into.

He lifted his hands in a gesture of apology. ‘Sorry. That was …’

‘Rude? Inappropriate? Offensive?’ Ally tapped her finger against the white tablecloth.

‘All of the above?’

‘Damn right.’

She shrugged a slim shoulder and smiled. Smiled?

‘Okay, let’s go.’

Whoa! Stop the bus! She was prepared to do this? Had he heard her correctly? No, he couldn’t have.

‘Seriously?’

Dear Reader

I have a crazy life. I have a day job, I write, and I run after my two very busy, sociable children. Like millions of woman the world over I am a master juggler, and I like to think that most days I have a reasonable balance between working and writing and being an involved mum. But I have to admit that while I was writing MORE THAN A FLING? I frequently dropped the balls of my life and as a result felt stressed and on edge.

And that’s why I found the character of Ally so easy to write. It’s easy to lose your balance and become super-involved in your career (or your children, or both) and forget to feed your soul. Showing Ally the error of her workaholic ways was fun, and as I got her life on track mine became easier too.

Ross is the exact opposite of Ally, and it’s through him that she realises her job isn’t everything, and that love and fun are far more important. Love and fun are always more important.

Wishing you happy reading!

With my best wishes

Joss

xxx

PS Come and say hi via Facebook: Joss Wood Author, Twitter: @josswoodbooks or at www.josswoodbooks.com

More Than

a Fling?

Joss Wood

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JOSS WOODwrote her first book at the age of eight and has never really stopped. Her passion for putting letters on a blank screen is matched only by her love of books and travelling—especially to the wild places of Southern Africa—and possibly by her hatred of ironing and making school lunches.

Fuelled by coffee, when she’s not writing or being a hands-on mum Joss, with her background in business and marketing, works for a non-profit organisation to promote the local economic development and collective business interests of the area where she resides. Happily and chaotically surrounded by books, family and friends, she lives in Kwa-Zulu Natal, South Africa, with her husband, children and their many pets.

Other Modern Tempted™ titles by Joss Wood:

FLIRTING WITH THE FORBIDDEN

THE LAST GUY SHE SHOULD CALL

TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING

IF YOU CAN’T STAND THE HEAT …

This and other titles by Joss Wood are available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk

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This book is dedicated to two people who were taken from us far too soon.

To Robbie Adam, the Third Earl of Thornham, who lost his life spear fishing off the coast of Madagascar …

I swear we could hear your laughter whistling through the trees at Thornham yesterday.

And to Jenny Heske—wild woman, sage, free spirit, soul sister—who passed away in October 2013 at the Norman Carr Cottage, Namakoma Bay, Malawi.

Smart, funny, brave and so, so wise.

Our kids adored you, as did Vaughan and I.

You will always be our Lady of the Lake.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Extract

ONE

‘Getting slow boss?’

Ross Bennett slapped the ball from his opponent’s hands and dropped a three-pointer into the basket. He flashed a relieved smile.

‘Does that look slow?’ he demanded, hands on his hips.

‘Lucky,’ was the quick response and Ross snorted.

It was, actually, since it was the only basket he’d landed in ten minutes. Either his geeks were getting better or he was getting old and slow; he chose to believe that they were getting better.

Despite the fact that he was getting his ass handed to him on the makeshift basketball court abutting his building by two kids just into their twenties, Ross Bennett was having a good day. It would be better if his guys were actually doing some brainstorming on the post-apocalyptic world that was integral to the new game they were designing—rebuilding the world after the apocalypse while fighting pockets of evil zombies and ghouls was not easy!—instead of having so much fun running rings around him.

‘Hey, I don’t mind you playing, but you’ve got to do some work too,’ he stated as they regrouped. ‘If you’re not going to try and come up with ideas for our destroyed world then get your asses back to your desk.’

He saw a couple of sheepish looks and heard one ‘Sorry boss...’ and hid his smile. These guys were some of his best recruits and weren’t sorry at all.

Ross felt his mobile vibrate in the pocket of his combat shorts and pulled it out. Lifting it up to his ear, he mouthed zombies versus ghouls at his staff and gestured them to carry on playing while he took his call. ‘Bennett.’

‘Ross, darling.’

Ross sighed at the dulcet tones of his mother. ‘Hi, Mum.’

‘Hi, baby.’

Thirty-three years old and he would always be her baby. Mothers. ‘What’s up?’

‘I was wondering when you might be coming back home...back to London?’

‘Is there a problem. Is Dad okay?’ Since his father had had a heart attack a couple of months back it was a valid question.

‘No, he’s fine. Back to work.’

Back to work: such an innocuous phrase, except when used in relation to Jonas Bennett. Ross felt the familiar burn of resentment and anger.

‘I was just hoping that you might come back for Hope’s thirtieth birthday.’

His little sister was thirty? How had that happened? ‘I hadn’t really thought about it, Mum. What are you planning?’

‘A family dinner.’

Since he was no longer part of the family her statement was wildly optimistic. Ross lifted his face to the spring sunlight and pushed his long, sun-streaked hair back from his face. ‘Mum, I’m happy to have dinner with you and Hope any time it suits you, but I’m not ready to break bread with Dad yet.’