Hot Nights in St Blaise ~ February's Fling



M.E.: St. Blaise photographer, Macy Beck, is back this month to give us the lowdown. If you missed last month’s interview, you can catch it here (link to January) Welcome back, Macy!
Macy: Hi, Madison. Good to be here again.
M.E.: Last month you introduced us to the Hot Nights in St. Blaise series, and we’re hooked. What can you tell us about Miss February?
Macy: Well, I can tell you she is one lucky, lucky lady, and one of my best friends. No one was happier than I was when she decided to go cougar on that hunky Holgren boy.
M.E.: She’s a cougar?
Macy: About as unlikely a cougar as you can imagine, but still, she nabbed herself a young one. Want a preview?
M.E.: Yes!!!

Here’s the setup:
Having a tough enough time reestablishing her credibility in the wake of the calendar’s success, Sharon Malloy refuses to jeopardize her career for a fling with an inappropriate man. No matter how badly she aches to be flung.
The sexy Finance Administrator may be fresh off the world’s most amicable divorce, but she’d long passed the age of giving in to reckless impulses. The problem is, when Chad Holgren touches her, it doesn’t feel reckless. It just feels right.
Sharon’s need to play it cool only fuels Chad’s fire. Determined to prove he has what it takes to make her happy, he puts her through her paces time and again, stretching the boundaries of their relationship and hanging on tight when Cupid’s arrow catches them both with their pants down.

And here’s a snapshot:

Grasping for a shred of sanity, she shook her head. “This is such a bad idea.”

“I think it’s the best idea ever.”

The hoarse rasp of his voice scraped away another layer of resolve. “How old are you?”

His eyebrows shot up as he pulled back. “I’m twenty-seven. Why?”

She winced. “Twenty-seven.” She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the cabinet with a thunk. “I have bras older than you.”

He laughed, but those clever hands crept under the hem of her shirt once more. “Not possible.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Yuh-huh?” His laugh sent shivers up her spine. “You can’t have bras older than me unless you, uh…developed really early.”

“You don’t know that.”

His voice dropped an octave. “You forget. I’ve seen your file.” He crowded in, and her fingers curled into his biceps. Rock-hard muscle danced beneath his shirt, but he didn’t back down. His breath stirred her hair. “You’re forty-two, Sharon. Not quite old enough to be my mama.”

She straightened her shoulders but turned her face away before he could land another mind-boggling kiss. Needing a moment to muster a little cool, she swallowed hard, but her biggest fear came burbling. “Close enough.”

His hand closed around the elastic holding her ponytail. Before she could stop him, he pulled it free. The band bounced off the toe of her shoe. His fingers raked through the tangled waves. “Miles away,” he whispered. “And if you want to get technical about it, my mother is almost old enough to be your mother too.”

She barked a bitter laugh. “This is not making me feel better.”

He wound a handful of hair around his fingers then watched in rapt fascination as it unraveled. His knuckles brushed her jaw, his fingertips unfurling under her chin. When his eyes met hers, the breath caught in her throat.

“I could do lots of things that would make you feel better, but not one of them has anything to do with my mother. For the record, I think you and me is a fantastic idea.”

“You shouldn’t be so good at this.”

Gathering her hair in his hands, it sifted through his fingers, spilling over his hands and trailing down his forearms. He grinned. He looked her straight in the eyes and smiled so wide his eyes crinkled. As if the man wasn’t appealing enough without the crinkling.

“God, you’re a mess,” he whispered in an awed tone.

She gasped. Her jaw dropped. She curled her tongue in a vain attempt to wrap it around a snappy comeback. Luckily, he cut her off before she could trip over her words.

“You have no idea…” Heavy hands slid through her hair. Catching the end of one tangled curl, he worked it between his thumb and forefinger.

“I have no idea about what? How big a mess I am?” She snorted. “You’re not making me feel very good about myself.”

“Ask me into your room, Sharon.”

His lips grazed hers—too soft, too fleeting, not nearly enough. Hot breath. Hard man. Hammering hearts. Holy shit, she was going to do this. She was actually going to do this. Do him.

“Take me to your bed, and I promise I’ll do everything in my power to make you feel good about your decision.” 

M.E.: Holy cannoli! 

Macy: I know. See what I mean? She’s a very lucky lady. 

M.E.: I guess so. Okay! Well… *fans self* Okay…Macy, thanks for being here. Will we see you next month with a preview of Mr. March’s story? 

Macy: I’ll be here! 

M.E.: Fabulous! February’s Fling by Maggie Wells is available now in all ebook formats at the Turquoise Morning Press bookstore or your favorite online retailer. 

For more information on the Hot Nights in St. Blaise series, readers can visit www.maggie-wells.com