I Wish You Love
by Nancy Pirri
Amy’s Gift
How does efficient personal assistant, Amy Gallagher, gain
the amorous attentions of her boss, James Kent? By playing tricks—until they
backfire on her and she finds herself definitely under his radar!
Winning Sylvia’s
Heart
A broken-hearted Sylvia Maxwell finds true romance, with
more than candy kisses and clichés, with Jack MacNamara, her next door
neighbor.
Wishes and Kisses
For Angelina Marrone's twenty-first birthday she receives a
birthday present to remember; a night in the arms of sexy escort, Burke
Severson, along with the proverbial birthday spanking.
When Maggie Loved
Patrick...then John
Maggie discovers her fiancé, Patrick, is cheating on her
once again. When she catches him in bed with his secretary, she wants revenge.
Then John, the secretary's fiancé, approaches her with a plan. Maggie gets much
more than she bargained for.
Riding Blue Steel
One woman, biological clock ticking; one widowed father with
no desire for more children. Is it lust or love at first sight at a Bikini Bike
Wash?
Genre:
Contemporary Romance Anthology
A RED SATIN ROMANCE -
HOT
BUY FROM
Excerpt
Amy's Gift
“Damn! Where in the hell are my clothes?”
James Marshall Kent, owner of Kent’s fine clothes for men
and women, stared into his closet, unable to believe his eyes. Every article of
clothing he owned had been removed. Clad in a towel he’d hitched around his
waist, he stalked over to his bureau and started opening and slamming drawers.
No underwear, no t-shirts, not even one pair of socks.
Someone had cleaned him out. And he had a pretty good idea of the thief’s
identity; Amy Gallagher, his beautiful but naughty personal assistant of one
year.
He’d been the victim of several pranks over the past month,
and had yet to identify the prankster. He guessed it was his assistant, since
everyone else he employed was scared of him. It irked him she wasn’t.
James slammed the last drawer shut and thought about Amy’s
recent comments to him. ‘Lighten up,’ and ‘You take life way too seriously’.
Amy’s words irritated him. None of his employees dared to
talk to him that way—except her. The fact of the matter was her words were
true, still, the woman needed to show respect for him as her boss. He’d show
her serious, with a trip over his knee for a good old-fashioned spanking, if he
discovered her to be the culprit who’d absconded with his clothes. Then the
unwanted image of taking her to his bed and lavishing her ass with kisses, over
the marks left from the imprint of his hand, entered his mind. With a shake of
his head, he dismissed the ridiculous idea. But damn if the woman didn’t tick
him off!
He let go of the towel and threw himself down on his back on
the bed. He should have been on the road home to White Plains by now, where he
planned on spending a quiet Christmas—by himself.
Bah. Humbug. He knew his employees felt that way about him
and he liked it that way. Christmas was just like any other day to him—since
Stephanie left him six years ago. Chagrinned, he realized he still hadn’t
gotten over his ex-fiancée. No, that wasn’t true. He’d gotten over her, so
much, in fact, he refused to allow any other woman to get close to him again,
including Amy.
He sat up, swiped his still damp black hair back from his
forehead, and grinned. He’d go downstairs and fetch some clothes; so much for
his assistant’s pranks. Ironically, she’d forgotten he owned a clothing store
right downstairs.
Yet he knew Amy wasn’t an ‘airhead’, but the best damned
assistant he’d ever had. Though, by her ‘come hither’ looks at him over the
past several months, he guessed she’d developed a crush on him. As soon as he
saw her again, he’d set her straight and inform her he wasn’t the marrying kind.
He rose from the bed, picked up the towel and tucked it in
around his waist again then headed toward the door. The phone rang and he
paused. Who in the hell would be calling him on Christmas Eve? He picked it up
on the third ring.
“Yes,” he barked.
“Mr. Kent?”
Amy. Guilt must have driven her to call him.
“Are you there?” she asked.
“Yes, Miss Gallagher?”
“Are you…are you mad at me?” she rushed out.
He dropped the towel again. “Why would I be?” He made his
voice smooth as silk and calm as a sea with not an ounce of wind in the air.
“Because I stole your clothes.”
“It was you.”
“Yes.”
“Were you the one who replaced my bottle of Spice cologne
with the women’s counterpart, Spicier?”
“Yes.”
“And the other pranks?”
“All me,” she confessed.
“Dare I ask why?”
“I wanted your attention.”
“Rest assured you’ve got it. Can you think what I’d like to
do to you at the moment?”
“Uh, well, I can’t. I imagine you’re angry, though.”
“Angry?” he said through gritted teeth. “I was supposed to
have left for home over an hour ago.”
“I thought you were spending Christmas alone. At least you
told all of us at the office you were.”
“I am,” he snapped. “I like my privacy, damn it, and planned
on spending the next week catching up on some reading.”
“Whew! I was worried you had family coming and I made you
late.”
“Hell, no. My family is spread across the country and
spending time with their own families.”
“Okay. I’ll return your clothes, once you hear me out.”
“Where—are—you?” he snarled.
“In the office.”
“How’d you get by the night guard?”
“I hid there until everyone left at the end of the day.”
“Come up here. Now.”
“Why?”
“Talk, you said you need to talk to me,” he reminded her.
She didn’t say a word for a long while, then whispered, “I’m
on my way.”
Nancy Pirri
Nancy Pirri Nancy Schumacher is the owner-publisher of
Melange Books, LLC, writing under the pseudonyms, Nancy Pirri and Natasha
Perry. Nancy has been a member of Romance Writers of America and her local
chapter, Midwest Fiction Writers, for several years. She is also one of the
founders of a second Minnesota RWA chapter, Northern Lights Writers (NLW).
January 1, 2011, Nancy opened her digital and print on
demand, multi-genre house, Melange Books, LLC. In January, 2012, Melange's new
young adult imprint was created, Fire and Ice Young Adult Books. In May, 2014,
Melange's new highly romantic imprint, Satin Romance, opened.
Website: www.nancypirri.com
No comments:
Post a Comment