Untamed Bachelors
When He Was Bad …
Anne Oliver
Interview with a Playboy
Kathryn Ross
The Shameless Life of Ruiz Acosta
Susan Stephens
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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Cover
Title Page Untamed Bachelors When He Was Bad … Anne Oliver Interview with a Playboy Kathryn Ross The Shameless Life of Ruiz Acosta Susan Stephens www.millsandboon.co.uk
When He Was Bad … When He Was Bad … Anne Oliver
About the Author ANNE OLIVER was born in Adelaide, South Australia, and with its beautiful hills, beaches and easy lifestyle, she’s never left. An avid reader of romance, Anne began creating her own paranormal and time travel adventures in 1998 before turning to contemporary romance. Then it happened—she was accepted by Mills & Boon in December 2005. Almost as exciting: her first two published novels won the Romance Writers of Australia’s Romantic Book of the Year for 2007 and 2008. So after nearly thirty years of yard duties and staff meetings, she gave up teaching to do what she loves most—writing full time. Other interests include animal welfare and conservation, quilting, astronomy, all things Scottish, and eating anything she doesn’t have to cook. She’s traveled to Papua/New Guinea, the west coast of America, Hong Kong, Malaysia, the UK and Holland. Sharing her characters’ journeys with readers all over the world is a privilege and a dream come true. You can visit her website at www.anne-oliver.com .
Acknowledgement With many thanks to my fabulous critique group—for good ideas, good food, good company. And a special thank you to Piers for your inspired idea of a golden horned unicorn for Belle’s garden!
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
Epilogue
Interview with a Playboy
About the Author
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
The Shameless Life of Ruiz Acosta
About the Author
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
Preview
Copyright
When He Was Bad …
Anne Oliver
ANNE OLIVERwas born in Adelaide, South Australia, and with its beautiful hills, beaches and easy lifestyle, she’s never left.
An avid reader of romance, Anne began creating her own paranormal and time travel adventures in 1998 before turning to contemporary romance. Then it happened—she was accepted by Mills & Boon in December 2005. Almost as exciting: her first two published novels won the Romance Writers of Australia’s Romantic Book of the Year for 2007 and 2008. So after nearly thirty years of yard duties and staff meetings, she gave up teaching to do what she loves most—writing full time.
Other interests include animal welfare and conservation, quilting, astronomy, all things Scottish, and eating anything she doesn’t have to cook. She’s traveled to Papua/New Guinea, the west coast of America, Hong Kong, Malaysia, the UK and Holland.
Sharing her characters’ journeys with readers all over the world is a privilege and a dream come true.
You can visit her website at www.anne-oliver.com.
With many thanks to my fabulous critique group—for good ideas, good food, good company.
And a special thank you to Piers for your inspired idea of a golden horned unicorn for Belle’s garden!
‘IMAGINE him naked.’
Ellie Rose barely heard her friend’s voice above the nightclub’s musical din, but she recognised the lusty tone. She knew why. And she knew to whom she was referring. The six-foot-something male-model type standing not more than fifteen feet away. As the gyrating crowd parted briefly beneath the swirl of dimly coloured neon lights and bone-jarring bass, she was treated to her first full-length glimpse of him.
He was turned away from her, but she could see that he was tall and dark and…She had a thing for cute rear ends. One butt cheek tightened and…Nice, she thought with a little sigh that tickled like a guilty pleasure down to her toes. Very nice.
Then the crowd closed around him and she cursed her height-challenged five foot two. But no way was she admitting to ogling him with the same lustful thoughts her friend had voiced. She hadn’t known Sasha long, but she did know that she was more than likely to up and invite him over. From what Ellie had observed, Sasha didn’t wait for men to find her; she found them.
Ellie feigned ignorance. ‘Who?’
Sasha lifted her bottle of wine cooler in salute and raised her voice over the noise. ‘You know perfectly well who—the guy up close with that tall chick in leather pants. Better still, imagine yourself naked with him.’
Ellie could. Very well. Too well. On indigo satin sheets…Except that the stunning brunette leaning in for a kiss insisted on sabotaging the image. Ellie swallowed and said in a ridiculously tight voice, ‘We’re not here to pick up guys. We’re here to enjoy the music.’
‘Speak for yourself.’ Sasha tipped her bottle to her lips. ‘If you want to enjoy music, go see a musical. Uh-oh, I think he’s looking at us,’ she said. ‘At you,’ she amended as the crowd between them thinned. She pressed her knuckles into Ellie’s spine, prodded her forward. ‘He’s coming this way. Go on. You could get lucky tonight.’ Sasha leaned closer, spoke into Ellie’s ear. ‘Ask him if he’s got any friends.’
Ellie’s legs began to tremble. She didn’t want to get lucky. Did she? No. Not with a guy who had the potential to make her want things she knew she couldn’t have with a guy like him. He had permanent playboy written all over that cocky smile and confident stride.
He wore black trousers and a white open-necked shirt that reflected the ceiling’s changing light show. His hair was dark, short and spiked with a touch of gel in such a way that it looked as if he’d just rolled out of his lover’s bed. The designer platinum watch adorning his wrist screamed money, money, money.
The lighting changed to an intermittent strobe—it seemed to flash in time to her pulse—as he drew near. And then he was so close that a quick yank of her arm would bring him within lip-smacking distance, and it was like watching one of those flickering black-and-white movies.
His eyes were dark bottomless pools. Mesmerising, magnetic, reeling her in. ‘Hi, there. Can I buy you a drink?’
His voice, liqueur over dark chocolate, slid down deep, coating her insides with its lusciousness. She raised her all-but-empty bottle of cola. ‘I already have one, thanks, and I’m with a friend…’ She trailed off as she saw Sasha making off into the knot of dancers, hips swaying. The rat. This little dinghy was doomed.
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