I was contemplating what to tease you with this morning and decided I’d use something on the light said. Just For The Weekend, my contemporary romance set in Vegas, has been selected to be part of the Talk, Dark, and Wealthy Bundle to be released October 26.
The eight books in the bundle all feature millionaires. In my case, the hero is terrified of gold diggers and decides to pretend he’s someone else to get the heroine to love him for who he is. But he’s the one who falls hard, and before he can fess up to the truth, his new bride vanishes. That’s when he discovers she wasn’t who she claimed to be either.Basing a relationship on a lie is never a good place to start!
Here’s this week’s tease from Just For The weekend.
“Mitch, for God’s sake. Stop ogling them,” she hissed when she saw her friend’s eyes openly fixed on the two hunky guys at a table not far from them. Their suits, definitely made-to-measure, enhanced their broad shoulders and tapered waists, and although she tried to be more circumspect than her friend, Cleo couldn’t keep her eyes from straying that way either. While the blond was attractive, it was the dark-haired, dark-eyed hunk who sparked her interest.
He was clean shaven with a Kirk Douglas dimple. His sun streaked hair and deep tan suggested hours of hard work in the sun, rather than twenty minutes in a tanning booth. He and his friend were engaged in an animated discussion and she’d heard his laughter at least twice. It sounded honest, not forced the way some people did when they laughed to be polite. When he looked her way, she quickly averted her eyes. Damn.
More than a little annoyed at herself for being caught looking, her tone was sharper than she intended. “They’ll see you. You’re practically drooling.” She reached for her Witch Doctor Cocktail and sipped.
“I want them to notice us, silly. That’s the whole point. It’s called flirting or have you forgotten that too? Besides, you’re just as guilty. I’ll bet you can tell me what color tie the guy’s wearing.”
“He’s not wearing a tie.”
Mitch nodded. “Uh-huh. Now who’s looking? Gorgeous guys like that are used to being checked out. Come on; live a little.” She turned away from her perusal of the men and took a sip of her martini.
“The bartender said some of the male dancers come up here to relax after the revue when they aren’t on duty fraternizing in the Flirt Lounge. Just look at them: tall, handsome, in phenomenal shape, and sexy as hell. They have to be Chippendales. Have you noticed they’ve been paying for each round with cash—small bills—no change. I read these guys can pick up as much as $800.00 a night.”
“Seriously? You’re letting your writer’s imagination run wild. This must be one of the most popular nightclubs in Vegas. I’m sure lots of attractive businessmen come up here for drinks. Many people carry small bills. I do.”
“Uh-uh. Don’t buy it. Those guys are wearing thousand dollar suits. Why aren’t they running a tab? We are. I’m right, and you, with your old-fashioned notions of what’s acceptable for you and that outdated morality clause that hamstrings you, don’t want to admit it. I wouldn’t mind letting them entertain me.” Mitch licked her lips. “Seeing that blond in nothing but bowtie and white cuffs would definitely ring my bells … aw, damn.” Cleo’s heart echoed the sentiment.
Two women, one noticeably pregnant, joined the men, who’d obviously been waiting for them. The pregnant redhead kissed the blond, while the brunette whispered something in the other man’s ear that made him laugh uproariously.
“I should have guessed they’d be taken.” The disappointment was heavy in Mitch’s voice. “Come on, we might as well go down. It’s after midnight. If you want to check off all the sites on your to-see list, we’ll have to be up early tomorrow.”
“That works for me. Another drink, and I’d fall off my shoes.”
“You mean you’d fall off my shoes. We seriously need to do some shopping tomorrow. I think my aunt, the nun, is more stylishly dressed than you.”
Cleo frowned. It was true she hadn’t bought anything new in a while, but skin-tight clothes and stilettos weren’t on the acceptable dress code for elementary school teachers with a limited clothing budget. Living at home gave her a break on the rent, but she’d have that expense if she took the job in Alamo. Her black dress was a classic, and paired with Mitch’s spikes, she thought she looked chic and stylish. So far tonight, she’d managed to walk without a telltale wobble. It was better to leave while she still could. She stood and followed Mitch toward the exit.
The alcohol played havoc with her equilibrium, and Cleo moved carefully. The last thing she wanted to do was fall flat on her face. She looked straight ahead and tried not to notice milk chocolate eyes staring curiously as she made her way across the room. She moved passed the table, distracted by the intensity of his gaze. She’d almost made it to the exit when she realized she’d left the brochures about the Grand Canyon helicopter tours on the table. She turned to go back and get them and watched in surprise as her dark-eyed hunk lifted his glass in mock salute and gave her an approving nod. She frowned. What kind of man flirted openly—even from a distance—with a woman when he had one sitting right beside him? She’d dated that kind of jerk. She had no intention of getting involved with another one. She pivoted on her heel and moved as quickly as she could toward the exit.
Just For The Weekend is available from Amazon
Now, check out these wonderful authors as they tease and tantalize you this week.