Fairy Tale Wife, Book #2

• Marriage of Convenience
• Passionate Contemporary Romance
• Workplace Romance
• Holiday Romance

Married by Midnight!
You’re invited to a wedding . . . your own!
Come to the Cinderella Ball single . . . leave happily wed.

The Cinderella Ball is the chance of a lifetime for individuals to come together to find their special someone. Their one and only. Their soul mate. Obtaining a ticket isn’t easy, but for those select few, it offers the chance at a lifetime of happiness.

Brilliant businesswoman, Nikki Ashton is in a desperate situation. In order to hold her young, smitten boss at a safe distance, she invented a husband. Now she needs to produce her absentee soul mate or risk being outed as a liar, something that could bring a fast end to her stellar career. The Cinderella Ball offers the perfect solution. All she has to do is find a strong, alpha male willing to marry her … temporarily.

Tough, take-charge businessman, Jonah Alexander, will do everything necessary to protect his family, including marrying the gorgeous gold-digger who’s set her matrimonial sights on his baby brother. When he discovers the two are planning to attend some sort of marriage ball in order to tie the knot, he swoops in, his world upended by the gorgeous, desperate redhead.

What neither expects is the passion that explodes between them. Then Jonah discovers Nikki is keeping secrets, secrets that threaten to destroy his Fairy Tale Wife on a personal and professional level, and put a permanent end to their temporary marriage.

“I’m Joe Alexander,” he said, using the abbreviated name he’d assumed for the evening.

“Nikki Ashton,” she replied.

It took every ounce of self-possession not to react, not to haul her off the floor and level her with accusations. The music ended just then, but his arms tightened around her. He hoped to hell Eric wasn’t anywhere nearby or there’d be hell to pay.

“One more dance.”

Once again she subjected him to that calm, assessing stare. “You aren’t asking, are you?”

“No.”

She hesitated. Before she could respond, the lights dimmed and the orchestra slipped into the next song, a slow, romantic one, chosen to encourage physical and conversational intimacy. Jonah gritted his teeth and molded her close, struggling to remain unaffected now that he knew her identity. She brushed against him as they drifted across the floor and his entire body clenched in response.

He wasn’t the only one affected, he realized in the next instant. Delicate color tinted Nikki’s cheeks and her breathing quickened. She wouldn’t react to him like this if she were in love with another man came the furious thought.

Unless, of course, she wasn’t really in love. Curious to test his theory, Jonah slid his hand down the length of her spine, his palm settling into the hollow above her backside. The slightest amount of pressure set her tight against him.

And then he slowed their dance until it became nothing more than a pretext, a subtle form of foreplay. In the space of a few steps, her movements aligned themselves to his and their movements went from subtle to searing.

He was practically making love to her right there on the floor—and she to him. Each step became part of a mating dance, her breasts crushed against his chest, her hips and thighs melded to his. She moaned, the sound barely more than a breathless sigh. But he heard it. He heard it and knew what she wanted.

“You feel it, too. Don’t you?” he murmured.

“Yes.”

The admission seemed torn from her. As though stunned by her own daring, she lifted her gaze to his, her eyes darkening like the sky before a gathering storm. But she didn’t pull away, which only confirmed what he’d suspected. If she were in love with Eric, she wouldn’t be responding to him. Not like this.

Determined to have final confirmation, he maneuvered her toward a dark corner. Their movements slowed until the gentle rocking motion was no more than an excuse to maintain as intimate a contact as possible.

Her attraction was undeniable and impossible to ignore. Everything about her appealed—her full, lush mouth, her sunset-hued eyes, the rich auburn of her hair, the low, confidential pitch of her voice.

A small part of him fought to retain a clinical detachment. But as hard as he struggled to remember whom he held, that knowledge didn’t change the intensity of his reaction. Whether he’d finally succumbed to jetlag or her allure outweighed his common sense, he couldn’t tell.

He only knew instinct born in the male of his species millennia ago drove him—an instinct urging he abandon caution and take the object of his desire, by force if necessary. Thrusting his hand into her hair, he tilted back her head and covered her mouth with his.
He didn’t ease into the kiss, didn’t bother with preliminaries, but stamped his ownership in the most primitive way possible. She instantly yielded, offering sweet surrender in the face of his determined assault. It was that unexpected capitulation that almost sent him over the edge.

With an incoherent murmur, her lips softened, parted, encouraging him to plunder within. He didn’t need a second invitation. He forged a union between them, mating his tongue with hers.

She trembled in his arms, clinging to him as though he alone sustained her. And he, heaven help him, worshiped her with both hands and mouth. If they’d been anywhere but in such a public setting, he’d have taken what she offered with such unstinting passion. But he couldn’t allow the burgeoning fire storm free rein.

Not here.

Not now.

Ultimately, it was that thought that restored his sanity.
With a muttered curse, he dragged his mouth from hers. He’d made a mistake touching her, he realized. Desire had given her beauty a wild edge and he couldn’t help but wonder what she’d look like after a night of passion. Just the thought of her in his bed, her glorious hair spread across his pillows and her white, silken limbs entwined in his sheets almost destroyed his control.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and he saw then that she’d become a flame to his moth, a bewitching siren capable of enticing him to his doom. If his little brother saw them like this, he’d know what sort of woman he intended to marry. Whether she planned to line her pockets with Sanders money or she just hoped to advance her career, her reasons for marrying Eric had nothing to do with love. Jonah fought a surge of anger. The proof of that stood trapped within his arms, evidenced by the blatant desire reflected in a pair of pansy-soft eyes.