HOW TO: Seduce Your Wife, Book #5

• Marriage of Convenience
• Holiday Romance
• Steamy
• Secret Twists

Six sexy Italian-American brothers, ready to win their soul mates.

The Salvatore Brothers will charm, tempt, seduce … or even wed and bed. They’ll do whatever it takes to find their bride.

And when they say whatever it takes, they mean absolutely anything!

Brand Salvatore has zero interest in finding love again but when Toni, his five-year-old daughter, retreats further and further into a fantasy world, he realizes he’s caught between a rock and a hard place. He needs a wife to help rescue his little girl.

He found passion with his late wife, Carina, and has no intention of experiencing that much drama ever again. What he wants is a plain, rational, practical woman willing to help raise his daughter. The Cinderella Ball offers the perfect opportunity to find calm, rational—not to mention—practical.

As beautiful and serene as her name, Mia Starr longs for one thing—a passionate, once-in-a-lifetime love affair. And she’s determined to find it at the Cinderella Ball. There she meets and tumbles head over heels for tough, remote Brand, a man she met six long years ago. A man who doesn’t remember her. She’s certain she can free the wounded “beast” from the ice-cold shell in which he’s encased himself.

Though Brand would never describe Mia as plain, she is the polar opposite of Carina. He demands a passionless relationship. She requests just one thing….

That her husband seduce and make love to her, allowing her to experience love and desire ... just for one night.
But will one night turn into every night?

Find out in HOW TO: Seduce Your Wife, a passionate, tender contemporary romance, guaranteed to make you a believer in happily-ever-after. Click to purchase your copy today!

The Beaumont’s Cinderella Ball—Forever, Nevada

Mia stood outside the Beaumont’s cupcake mansion, perched in the middle of the desert like a stunning oasis, and stared at the entryway. She hovered on the verge of bolting, her heart racing, breath catching in her throat. She wasn’t someone who jumped in with both feet or took risks or could easily take center stage.

Her dress wasn’t a full-length ball gown, which seemed to be the fashion with most of the women entering the gathering, but it caressed her calves, concealing the damage to her scarred leg. Pearls of varying sizes dusted the bottom hemline and a silver star pendent necklace provided the only true feminine flair to the ensemble. She’d paired the costume with a set of short silver strappy heels. The dress had been purchased second hand from a thrift store, ever mindful of her lost income. Despite Anna’s endless advice regarding the gathering, Mia had chosen her own guise.

A man approached where she stood by the fountain, a tumbleweed skittering across his path, causing him to pause beside her. She could practically hear Anna’s voice in her head, repeating the same line she said every night since Mia signed up for this event.

Attempting subtlety, something she actually excelled at because it was ... well … subtle and subtle was in her wheelhouse, she peeked over at him. To her relief, he remained utterly oblivious to her presence. Thank goodness for small favors.

He was exquisitely handsome. Beyond gorgeous. Tall, broad, and rock-solid, he stood in opposition to the cool easterly wind that flowed down the Long Valley. The gusts whipped and pulled at her skirt, wrapping tightly around her calves, throwing her momentarily off balance before she could recover. While she struggled to remain standing, he stood totally erect, unphased by the elements.

It figured. One glance warned he was a man who’d weathered more than one storm and won, though not without a bit of damage. In the setting sun, his eyes blazed a hard, piercing dark bronzed gold that flashed a warning to stay away, while the beauty of his face beckoned a woman to her doom.

Goosebumps prickled on her arms—a knowing. An awareness. A feeling of “rightness” in connection with the man beside her. It unsettled her in ways she found intensely uncomfortable, maybe because she’d never experienced such a sensation before.

She stared more blatantly at the man, searching his expression for something that would hint at his nature, but found nothing but a cold remoteness—until he glanced at the mansion. Then his features settled into lines of mild loathing combined with the stoic acceptance of one approaching his execution.

Interesting. It would seem she wasn’t the only one attending for reasons other than personal desire. Before she could look away, he turned his head in her direction. A nagging familiarity fluttered in the pit of her stomach, leaving as quickly as it appeared.

They locked gazes with one another for an endless moment before he dismissed her and moved on, deliberately, relentlessly. Determination in his every step. The setting sun caught in his eyes. Familiar eyes, hauntingly familiar. High cheekbones. Soft, kissable lips. The air whooshed out of her, collapsing her lungs, the weight of the realization crushing her.

Brand Salvatore. Bastardo. Amore. Her cousin’s husband.

Confusion filled her. What the hell was he doing at a marriage ball while married to Carina? Were they divorced? Why had no one in the family mentioned it? Not that they contacted her anymore.

Memories from six years ago hit her like a banked fire given fresh fuel. They shouldn’t still be so fresh or cloud her rationality. That night shouldn’t mean anything, not after all this time. And yet…

It did. He’d been the one who got away, that fact made worse by his marriage to Carina.

Clearly, Mia didn’t meet whatever criteria Brand had formulated for a wife back then, any more than now. Because she didn’t doubt he’d come with a set of criteria. Knowing his ultimate choice in a woman, probably someone seductive and dramatic and a lioness in bed. All attributes that fit Carina, but definitely not her.
She frowned. Still … why not her? Maybe because he’d already proven he preferred her cousin’s personality over Mia’s own (and what the hell had happened to Carina, anyway?). No one would ever call her seductive or dramatic. Just the opposite, in fact. And she really didn’t think she’d be a lioness in bed, though she couldn’t say since she’d never had sex before.

Still. Not a lioness. Maybe a pussycat, if she were lucky. But she wanted to aim for lioness. And for passion. The taste of rejection and fear shook her to her very core. If only she had the nerve to take a page from her cousin’s book and throw herself into a mad, crazy affair. Embrace the wave of emotions riding roughshod through her heart.

If only she were bright, brilliant, fiery. Worth more than just a kiss.

If only.

Mia’s chin firmed. Fine. She’d take the risk. Just this once, she’d risk it all.