Jamie Denton - Valentine Fantasy

Jordan’s deep velvet voice sent a warm little shiver down her spine. “I’d like you to kiss me,” she said. When his gaze dipped to her mouth, her lips parted in invitation. When he hesitated, she leaned out of the tub to grab his tie and pulled him close.

“Now, Jordan.”

“It’s your fantasy,” he whispered, before pressing his lips seductively against hers, his hand dipping beneath the surface of the bathwater to brush against her rib cage. Her head spun, her mind whirled with sensation as he cajoled her tongue to mate with his in a kiss more erotic than anything she’d ever experienced. She moaned when he palmed her breast in the warmth of his large hand. Heat, hot and blazing, built inside her as his thumb lightly teased her nipple into a taut peak.

Suddenly, he stopped. “We can’t do this, Cait.” He stood and walked over to pick up his jacket, leaving her wanting him, needing him….

“This isn’t exactly how I envisioned my fantasy ending,” she said, her voice still husky with desire.

“This isn’t the end, sweetheart. It’s just the beginning.” He graced her with a grin guaranteed to speed up her pulse. “By the way, you might want to add a few more bubbles to your bath.”

Dear Reader,

Writing can be such a solitary existence and if it wasn’t for the support of one of my closest friends, fellow Temptation author, Janelle Denison, Cait and Jordan’s romance would never have seen the light of day. The Fantasy for Hire books are a project close to my heart because it finally gave Janelle and I the opportunity to work together. The result of this collaboration—the McBride brothers, two gorgeous, sexy men who’ve captured our hearts and hopefully, will capture yours as well.

Janelle and I have wanted to team up on a special project for years. Thanks to the encouragement of our editors, Birgit Davis-Todd and Brenda Chin, we were given the opportunity to fulfil a long-awaited fantasy of our own. I hope you enjoy both Temptation #759 Christmas Fantasy and Temptation #767 Valentine Fantasy.

I’d love to hear from you, so feel free to write to me at P.O. Box 224, Mohall, ND 58761.

Enjoy,

Jamie Denton

Valentine Fantasy

Jamie Denton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Tony,

You’re my fantasy come true.

Love, Jamie

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

“SEX FOR HIRE?” Cait Sullivan asked, lowering her voice to a hushed whisper. “Are you serious?”

With the critical eye of a reporter, Cait examined the man across her desk. The expensive suit and Italian loafers were apparel that bespoke money, and not the garb of some crackpot. If she ignored the small bandage across his nose and the fading double shiners that made him resemble a jaundiced racoon, his face didn’t look as if it belonged to a crazy, either, but maybe someone who’d had his nose broken.

“I’m perfectly serious, Ms.—” he glanced at her nameplate, then slid his pale blue gaze back to her “—Sullivan. I know for a fact that a representative of Fantasy for Hire was paid to have sex with a client. A very wealthy client.”

Cait’s instincts kicked into high gear. There was a story here, a good story that wouldn’t require her to dress up and play nice with the debutantes of San Francisco—spoiled little girls who made her feel gauche and out of place. It might even keep her away from the boring charity auctions of the rich and infamous, another assignment she found distasteful. This was a real story. And if she could pull off the exposé Louden Avery kept hinting at, it might just mean the end of the fluff she’d been writing for the past two years and push her into the type of reporting she craved—hard-hitting news. Investigative reporting. Maybe even move her out of print and into live, on-location shots with one of the networks, or even CNN.

This is Cait Sullivan reporting live…

She tucked the fantasy away and pulled out a yellow pad instead. First things first. “What proof do you have?”

“One of my former employees obtained the—shall we call them services,” he said, his voice dripping with innuendo, “of Fantasy for Hire. I have no physical proof but I did see a one-thousand-dollar receipt for services rendered. That’s a bit steep for a male exotic dancer, wouldn’t you agree?”

She’d never personally hired an exotic dancer, but she’d been to a few bachelorette parties and pretty much guessed what these guys did for a living cost nowhere near what he was suggesting.

From what Avery had told her thus far, Fantasy for Hire was a rather small, albeit successful, agency that hired out male strippers for bachelorette parties, birthday parties and the like—something he insisted was merely a front for a more lucrative business.

“I need more than your telling me you saw a receipt, Mr. Avery,” she said, making notes on the pad.

“You’re a reporter. Isn’t it your job to find out the truth behind what I’m telling you?”

“Well, yes, but…”

He stood and looked down his bandaged nose at her. “If you don’t want the story, Ms. Sullivan, I’ll go to the Examiner. I’m sure they’d be interested.” He turned to leave.

“Wait!” She stood and circled the desk, unwilling to let her chance to prove herself as a serious reporter slip away. “Give me a few days to check it out and get back to you. If I think there’s a story, we’ll talk again.”

He smiled, but it was more of a feral grin. “Oh, there’s a story, one hell of a story, and I’m giving it to you, Ms. Sullivan.”

She didn’t want to question why he’d approached her when there were dozens of other reporters on the Herald with more experience. Who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth, as her mother would say?

She took the business card he offered and promised to call him in a few days. Propping her backside against the desk, she bit her lip and watched him walk away. Her mind spun with ideas, but nothing concrete took root. She needed something, some glimmer of proof that Avery was telling her the truth, before she spent hours investigating this agency.

With a sigh, she pushed off the desk and returned to her chair to examine her notes. She read through them twice until a slow grin tugged her lips. Drumming her short nails on the desk, her smile turned into a grin and she laughed. She had it! The perfect cover. A foolproof plan. What better way to discover the truth about Fantasy for Hire than to hire the agency herself?

She made a quick call to Ardell’s Body Works and begged the receptionist to work her into the schedule. After a few pleas, Hilary relented if Cait promised to be there within the hour. She needed a trim anyway, she thought, but with luck, Pierre could at least tame her hair into a semblance of sophistication and style. Maybe she’d even get her nails done. Rich women got their nails done all the time. She needed to look pampered and bored, and if anyone in the city could achieve that look for her, it’d be the wizards at Ardell’s.

Snagging her purse and raincoat, she left the cubicle and hurried across the busy newsroom to the sign-in board. She plucked the red peg from “in” and popped it into the “out” slot under her name, then left the office, ready to set the wheels in motion for her own private fantasy for hire.