Showing posts with label Rosanna Leo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rosanna Leo. Show all posts
A Good Man by Rosanna Leo
Title: A Good Man
Series: Handyman Series #1
Author: Rosanna Leo
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Limitless Publishing
Release Date: November 21, 2017
“Come with me. I want to show you something.”
“Sounds mysterious.”
“I will admit I was keeping this a secret, but I’ve made an executive decision to break with Handymen tradition.”
“What will Lacey think?”
“Let’s not go there.” He brought her upstairs, to the room that used to be the master bedroom, the one where several crew members stowed their belongings most days. Michael opened the door. At the far end of the empty room sat a large object, covered in a long tarp. “I’ve been working on something for you.”
“You mean other than renovating my house?”
He grinned. “Remember those old family photos Lacey borrowed from you?”
“Yeah. She said they wanted to include a montage of old pictures in the show introduction.”
“That might have been a slight fabrication. I just needed a way to get some photos from you. Anyway, I was saving this for the big reveal, but I think I want to show you now.” He grabbed the edge of the tarp and pulled, revealing the object hidden beneath it.
It was an old wooden ladder, one he’d found months ago at a salvage yard. He’d decided to repurpose it, turning it into a set of frames for the old photos they’d borrowed. Faces now smiled out from the six gaps between the rungs. Nonna Olivia hugging two blond children, Emily and her brother. Nonna Olivia and her husband on their wedding day. Six photos in total, all part of the heritage Emily so treasured. He hoped she’d like the rustic look of the ladder. Rather than sanding and painting it, he’d left it rough and worn, so that it looked as if it might have been sitting in Nonna Olivia’s toolshed, just waiting to be used. All Michael had done was affix the appropriate hooks and backings and had blown all the photos up to sizes that would fit the spaces.
Emily gazed upon her grandmother’s face. Her chest heaved. She blinked once, then twice. All at once, big, fat tears began to roll down her cheeks. “Michael, it’s…”
“I hope you don’t mind I used the photos. I thought it might be nice for you to have mementos of your grandmother in the finished store.”
“Oh.” Her hand covered her mouth but it shook so much she was unsuccessful at covering her open mouth.
“I hope you like it. You’ve had a shitty week and I thought you could use a pick-me-up. I was supposed to keep quiet about it, so maybe you could keep it under your hat until—”
Emily threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his torso, cutting off his words and his breath. Only when he hugged her back did he realize how hard she was quivering.
She wasn’t just crying about the old photos.
“It’s okay, Em. Let it out, sweetheart.”
The collar of his shirt grew wet but he didn’t care. Wardrobe had tons of shirts. Besides, she felt good in his arms, all soft and warm. He rubbed her shoulders and the back of her waist, exploring and familiarizing himself with her luscious body. He breathed, drinking in her scent. His nasal cavities had never known such bliss. It was like that first clear breath after a long period of congestion. His fingers were pretty happy too, enjoying the give of her womanly body. It was all he could do not to slide them down, cup her sweet ass, and pull her up against him.
Just not while she was crying over another man.
She lingered in his arms and he did nothing to push her away. In fact, it surprised him how badly he wanted to keep her there, so much so that when Emily finally extricated herself, he wanted to pull her back into his embrace. Instead, he wiped her cheeks of the remaining tears.
“The makeup ladies are going to kill me for making you cry.”
It might have been his imagination, but her tears made her eyes appear even greener. In fact, her entire face seemed a riot of tempting color. Each shade called to him. The crushed roses in her cheeks. Her strawberry lips, so plump and moist. Even the doeskin brown of her freckles fascinated him to no end. He wanted to count them, to kiss and mark them all.
Kissing her made a whole lot of sense right now. Kissing her senseless seemed even better.
Emily’s eyes widened. Her lips parted in invitation. Michael paused, knowing it was wrong, even though every raised hair on his arms told him it was right.
As he debated with himself for a split second, she brushed her lips against his. It was quick and soft, hunger masquerading as something platonic. Even though a spectator might have called it a friendly kiss, he knew the truth. As brief as it may have been, he felt her yield to him, even if just a little.
From the startled look in her eye, Emily knew it too.
She took a step back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You’re right. I should have been the one to do it.” Michael licked his lips. “Your lips really do taste like strawberries.”
“Michael, I can’t.”
“I think you just did.”
“You know what I mean.” She waved her hand between their two torsos. “This. I can’t do this.”
“What? Point at my chest?”
“You’re teasing me.”
“Maybe a little. Listen, Em, I understand. As unexpected as that kiss was, as much as I want to taste your lips again, I know it’s too soon.”
“It’s too much, too soon.”
He reached for her hand. “I get it. It’s okay.”
“Thank you.”
“But that doesn’t mean I won’t be spending all my waking hours waiting for the moment I can make it happen again.”
“Michael.”
“Don’t worry. I’d never force the matter. Besides, I enjoyed having you thrust yourself at me.”
“Are you ever going to let me live it down?”
“Not in this century, sweetheart.”
Rosanna Leo is a multi-published romance author. Winner of the Reader’s Choice 2015 in Paranormal Romance at The Romance Reviews, Rosanna draws on her love of mythology for her books on Greek gods, selkies and shape shifters.
From Toronto, Canada, Rosanna occupies a house in the suburbs with her long-suffering husband, their two hungry sons and a tabby cat named Sweetie. When not writing, she can be found haunting dusty library stacks or planning her next star-crossed love affair.
A library employee by day, she is honored to be a member of the league of naughty librarians who also happen to write romance.
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VICE by Rosanna Leo
Title: VICE
Series: Vegas Sins #1
Author: Rosanna Leo
Genre: Hot Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Crave Publishing
Release Date: September 19, 2017
Casinos, gambling, money, and women, these are all the things Las Vegas has to offer. For a handsome business entrepreneur it’s paradise.
Wearing success like a well-tailored suit, Liam Doyle knows exactly how to lure customers into his grand casino hotels. Every night it’s business as usual while he runs his multi-million dollar empire…until a pesky protester catches his attention.
Staging a one-woman protest, Kate Callender has the potential to be a huge pain in his ass. If he doesn’t take care of her soon, there will be bad publicity slapped all over Vice, the newest addition to his chain of casinos.
But there’s just one tiny little problem Liam didn’t count on—the feisty red-head isn’t about to go down easily. She’s fighting him every step of the way…and he’s starting to like it.
“You,” she said on a breath.
“Me.” His enticing blue eyes traveled up and down the length of her, one eyebrow raised in frank admiration. “You obviously didn’t do your homework.”
Outrage surged through her system. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were yesterday? Why did you let me embarrass myself like that?”
The smirk disappeared, to be replaced by a mild expression of boredom. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. I always try to size up the competition.”
Doyle walked toward her, his large hand extended. The light in his eyes now hinted not so much at merriment as it did danger. She caught a whiff of her favorite men’s cologne by Michael Kors. She’d bought it for an old boyfriend once, but it smelled way better on Liam, as if it were an extension of his persona.
His entire ensemble, designer suit, pressed pants, and navy blue paisley tie, reeked of power and privilege that drew her like a moth to a flame. Damn, she’d always been a sucker for a man in a good suit. Get a hold of yourself, Kate. He’s hot, but so is the Devil.
He kept his hand out. “Please allow me to introduce myself properly. I’m Liam Doyle.” His gaze drifted toward her neckline and back up again. “I think you’ve heard of me.”
Wishing she didn’t have to, she took his hand. Electricity shot through her and that damned perspiration appeared on her upper lip again. His grip was that of a man who took what he wanted, when he wanted.
She held her head high. “Kate Callender.”
He held her hand for a moment, his gaze locked on hers. He then gestured toward the counter, where a teak tray was laden with biscuits and what smelled like expensive coffee. No Folgers crystals for this guy. “Coffee?”
“No, thank you.”
“Tea?”
“No.”
“So we’re done with the niceties, then?”
“I didn’t come here for niceties.”
“Then you’ve come to the right place.” Liam sat on one of the couches, motioning for her to do the same. She continued to stand. Something in his wolf-like gaze hardened even further. “Ms. Callender, why are you picketing my casino?”
His direct question set her even more on edge. She cleared her throat. “I have a right to protest what I see as wrong.”
His grim smile might have made a grown man sweat, but she didn’t look away. “Let me put this another way. Las Vegas is home to numerous casinos. Why mine?”
“If I’m trying to make a point, it only stands to reason I’d pick the most popular casino. I suppose I should congratulate you. Only open for two days, and Vice is already a hit. You must be so proud.”
“Yes. Despite having my grand opening spoiled.”
“Oh.” She inclined her head in mock sympathy. “I’m so not sorry.”
He peered at her, narrowing his eyes. “Are you a Bible-thumper?”
“No.”
“Campaigning politician?
Despite her unease, she laughed. “Do I look like Hilary Clinton?”
He looked her up and down, as if her vocation were scrawled somewhere on her and he simply needed to find it. “Aspiring actress? This is probably a publicity stunt to get you viral on YouTube? Trying to get an audition here as a showgirl? Sorry, I don’t use them. The whole concept is dated and demeaning to my female clientele.”
Okay, he got some points for that statement. “I’m not a dancer. I’m a singer.”
It was his turn to laugh. Despite the bitter tone, his deep timber called to her. “Same difference.” He stood. “I’m not auditioning you, Ms. Callender, as fun as it would be to get you on the casting couch.” And there he lost those points again. “Have a nice day.”
“Wait! I’m not trying to get an audition. You need to listen to me.” In a nervous reaction, she fingered the pearl choker at her neck, the one thing she had left of her mother. The one thing her father hadn’t pawned.
Doyle turned back to her, one brow raised. “No, I don’t.” He eyed how she gripped her choker. “So you can take your fake pearl necklace and your sneakers and your attitude and go home.”
Her attitude? “No. You let me up here. I’m not leaving until you hear me out.” She let go of the choker and let her hands fall to her sides. “And my pearls aren’t fake.”
“Why are you here, Ms. Callender? Did you lose money at one of my casinos on your last night out with the girls?”
She didn’t want to dignify that with a response, but a smug statement like that couldn’t go unchallenged. “I’m not a gambler.”
He leaned against the armrest of the cushy couch and surveyed her through hooded eyes. “Ah, and now we come to the crux of the matter. So, you’re a do-gooder. Let me guess. Gam-Anon?”
“New Horizons.”
“Never heard of them.”
“That doesn’t mean we don’t exist. And unfortunately, there are lots of us. Far too many. What does that tell you, Mr. Doyle?”
Liam’s lips twitched into a smile that appeared slightly more friendly than his poker face, as if he enjoyed their banter. He loosened his tie, but his focused gaze continued to grate on her nerves. She stared at the strip of indigo silk at his throat, and was struck by a bizarre and unbidden image.
Her, on his bed. Her hands bound with his expensive tie.
The strange pounding in her head must have been her racing heart. Where did that come from? Focus, Kate, focus.
“I’m not just here because it’s something I believe in. I’m here because my group gets bigger every goddamn week,” she said, concentrating on the task at hand, rather than Liam Doyle’s bed. Lisa’s sad face appeared in her mind, as well as those of her children, the ones who’d spent the last two nights crying for their daddy. Kate blinked away the tears which threatened and aimed her burning gaze at Doyle. “I don’t respect your work, Mr. Doyle. And I don’t respect you.”
From the furrow of his brow, Kate thought she’d struck a nerve. His tanned skin seemed paler. After a moment, he said, “So you’re trying to take down my casino with a one-woman picket line? No offense, but I’ve seen better protests at a garage sale.”
“I’m trying to create awareness.” Kate stood, having already had enough of their uncomfortable conversation. “I’m not a fool. My intention is not to shut down Las Vegas, or your casino. That’ll never happen. But if I can make a small dent in the wallet of the Strip’s wealthiest hustler during his opening week, then maybe people will take notice. Have you never thought about the addictions riding your customers? Have you ever spent time chatting with the compulsive gamblers downstairs? Because I bet you’d hear a lot of stories. And believe me, the worst ones are the ones they don’t tell.” She paused for breath. “My friend’s husband is probably down there right now, feeding your slot machines instead of his kids.”
“Hold on. Don’t pin that on me.”
“Oh? Who do I pin it on?”
“Look, if you want a donation, I already make plenty. Believe me, I make regular donations to people like Gam-Anon. You know, legitimate charities.”
“I’m not here for money, but clearly you are.” The words spilled out of her, kick-started by adrenaline. “You’re a wealthy man. Did you have to open casinos? Were they such a passion for you? Couldn’t you have opened, I don’t know, a supermarket chain instead? Or was that not sexy enough for the great Liam Doyle?”
His lips compressed. Had her comment hit home? Good.
“You have no right…”
“I have every right.” Her face was burning now. “If I can save even a few lost souls from places like this, then I’ll sleep a whole lot easier.”
She had to get out before she started crying. She wanted to leave with her head held high. Leave him thinking. She turned and headed for the elevator, but he grabbed her hand before she could get away.
“Wait.”
Kate yanked her hand out of his grip. “How do you even sleep, Mr. Doyle?”
His eyes bored into her. “Like a rock. But that crown of thorns must keep you up at night.”
She tried to appear like she was still in control, but that had hurt. “You just keep telling yourself that.”
Kate marched to the elevator and punched the button. As the door opened, she threw a look back at him.
“By the way, I will be back. I’ll show you how many lives have been devastated by your casinos.” She walked into the lift, even though she felt like running. She didn’t look back.
Liam called out to her. “Watch your step, Ms. Callender. I don’t forgive and forget.”
She channeled her last ounce of bravado before the doors shut. “You really should see someone for that. I hear being an asshole can be terminal.”
Once the elevator began its descent, Kate leaned against the back of the small space and closed her eyes, winded by her hostile exchange with Doyle. She didn’t open them again until the door opened.
Rosanna Leo is a multi-published romance author. Winner of the Reader’s Choice 2015 in Paranormal Romance at The Romance Reviews, Rosanna draws on her love of mythology for her books on Greek gods, selkies and shape shifters.
From Toronto, Canada, Rosanna occupies a house in the suburbs with her long-suffering husband, their two hungry sons and a tabby cat named Sweetie. When not writing, she can be found haunting dusty library stacks or planning her next star-crossed love affair.
A library employee by day, she is honored to be a member of the league of naughty librarians who also happen to write romance.
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