Donna Kauffman - Simon Says...

USA TODAY bestselling author DONNA KAUFFMANis a former RITA ®finalist who has seen her books reviewed in venues ranging from Kirkus to Library Journal to Entertainment Weekly , as well as excerpted in periodicals like Cosmopolitan magazine. She lives just outside of the nation’s capital in the lovely Virginia countryside, where her nest has emptied of children, but seems to rapidly be filling back up with an eclectic menagerie that includes Zazu, a bossy little parrot, and Rufus the mutant catfish. Donna and her menagerie love to hear from readers. You can contact her through her website at www.donnakauffman.com

Simon Says …

Donna Kauffman

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Dear Reader,

It’s so wonderful to be back diving into the sizzling fun of writing for Blaze ®again! Where does the time go when we’re all having fun, anyway? And I had the supreme pleasure of getting to write another WRONG BED story. Nothing is more fun for me than trapping my hero or heroine (preferably both!) in an unforeseen situation that requires fast thinking and quick reflexes to wriggle out of.

In Simon Says … I admit I was rather wicked in the way I set up Sophie and Simon. But, trust me, it’s so much more fun that way. Night manager Sophie Maplethorpe definitely has her hands full when she’s caught red-handed in a room in her own hotel, trying to steal back her best friend’s phone … only to discover she’s not only in the wrong room, but the man occupying the bed … and presently aiming a gun in her direction, has checked into the Wingate for obviously nefarious reasons. Simon Lassiter, a hot Kiwi with a to-die-for accent and the kind of searing intensity that would make a Bond girl choose him over James any day, now has to figure out what to do with the woman he wakes up to find in his room … and mere steps away from his bed. He’s there to steal a priceless jewel … so why is it all he can think about is stealing a few hours with Sophie instead?

Thank you for joining me in my romping return to the Blaze ®fold. I hope you have as much fun reading Sophie and Simon’s sexy escapade as I did writing it. A nice cold beverage and a fan might be a good idea to keep nearby while reading. Just sayin’!

Happy reading,

Donna Kauffman

To Mary and Rhonda,

for your unwavering friendship and support.

I’m a very lucky girl.

Cover

About the Author About the Author USA TODAY bestselling author DONNA KAUFFMAN is a former RITA ® finalist who has seen her books reviewed in venues ranging from Kirkus to Library Journal to Entertainment Weekly , as well as excerpted in periodicals like Cosmopolitan magazine. She lives just outside of the nation’s capital in the lovely Virginia countryside, where her nest has emptied of children, but seems to rapidly be filling back up with an eclectic menagerie that includes Zazu, a bossy little parrot, and Rufus the mutant catfish. Donna and her menagerie love to hear from readers. You can contact her through her website at www.donnakauffman.com

Title Page Simon Says … Donna Kauffman www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dedication To Mary and Rhonda, for your unwavering friendship and support. I’m a very lucky girl.

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

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Copyright

SOPHIE MAPLETHORPE PAUSED to look at the naked man sprawled across the hotel bed. Even in the early morning darkness, she immediately understood why her best friend had gone to bed with the complete stranger. Maybe not why she’d done so after her own bachelorette party, but if the bottom half of him was as glorious as the broad shoulders and muscled arms presently splayed across the white linen sheets, not to mention all that thick, dark hair curling against his neck … well, even Sophie might have toyed with the idea of risking her entire future for one last fling.

Except you are risking your entire future . And she hadn’t even gotten the hot sex first.

Tearing her gaze away from the bed and the naked man, Sophie took another second to let her eyes adjust to the dim interior of Room 706, king, no smoking. Delia said her cell phone had likely fallen out on one of the chairs while she’d been straddling—Sophie shut that image down immediately. But her gaze was drawn to the bed again. And the man presently in it. Daniel Templeton. Investment capitalist, in Chicago for a few meetings. And, apparently not averse to mixing a little consensual pleasure with business.

She sighed. Just a bit. Yes, she’d been focusing on her job to the point where, maybe, just possibly, her personal life had suffered a little. Okay, a lot. As in she didn’t presently have one. Still, even if she wasn’t ignoring certain needs for the sake of more important, immediate goals, any normal, red-blooded woman would look at that back, and that backside, clearly and quite deliciously outlined under that casually tangled sheet, and wish, just for a fleeting moment anyway, that she’d been the one doing the hot chair tango last night. All night, according to Delia. The man had stamina. And just because Sophie had to stifle another longing sigh didn’t mean she was sex starved or anything.

No, that, apparently, was her best friend’s problem.

Well, not anymore.

Sophie resolutely dragged her attention back to the pair of standard hotel chairs arranged in front of the wall-sized picture window, presently hidden behind heavy hotel drapes. She had approximately fifteen minutes to find that damn phone, sneak back out of the room and deliver it to her best friend, before Delia’s fiancé made his daily and perfectly punctual 7:00 a.m. morning phone call. Delia’s fiancé being Adam Wingate, of the Chicago hotel magnate Wingates. The Wingates who happened to own the chain of hotels she was presently breaking and entering in. The very same hotel chain that employed her as a newly promoted night manager.

She didn’t have a pocket in the pants she’d changed into after her shift was over, so she slipped the lanyard holding her master key card back over her neck for the time being, and tiptoed toward the chairs, trying not to think about the fact that she was risking that very promotion, not to mention possible arrest, and God knew what else, all for a damn cell phone.

The instant Delia finished her morning call with her soon-to-be groom, Sophie planned a little lecture of her own. Not that she didn’t understand Delia’s last-minute bout of cold feet. She’d been telling her friend for, well, almost as long as she’d been dating him, that Adam Wingate was a possessive control freak who, from their very first date, had been categorically programming every last bit of fun and spontaneity out of Sophie’s normally bubbly and vibrant best friend.