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| Millionaire Eli Eden has a Plan: pay women to have sex, and never get involved. So far it's worked like a charm. But so far he hasn't met the likes of Claire Hardistique! |
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| If Eli had worried about wasting a single bloom in the basket she clutched beneath her arm, hanging on to it as if it was the last bit of reality in a scene that could not possibly be real or of this earth, he needn't have. There were throusands of them. In every color imaginable, some that singed the eye and suspended disbelief. Orchids in full bloom stood in solitary splendor in isolated pots, dropped in fantastic sprays from mountings on trees and poles, draped themselves elegantly in tiny-blossomed fury across walkways and chair seats. Stunned, she turned slowly, sniffing the wave of perfume that swept over her with every faint, imperceptible stirring of warm and tropical air. It was light, penetrating, incredibly sweet. The breath of the ultimate and eternal summer beneath the snow-dusted glass canopy. "Plumeria," Eli said softly, and for a minute, struggling to re-focus her gaze, Claire couldn't see him. "From Hawaii. That's what you're smelling. The most wonderful scent in the world. And gardenias. Tuberoses. Everything that has a scent, every scent you could ever want. It's here, Claire." "It's..." She squinted. Blinked rapidly, then finally managed to focus on him, and only him. He lay on the floor...on a wide and barely rose-colored satin pallet spread across pale marble. Dressed this time in a white shirt...immaculate, impeccable, perfect...and jeans that gave him an all-new, casual and even more enticing air, he lay on his hip, propped up against a pile of satin pillows, a glass of champagne in his hand. When she didn't move, he lifted the glass to her. "I hear you've been exploring," he murmured, his voice deep, dusky, and thoroughly unreadable. Slowly, Claire advanced toward him. "A person can only stay cooped up in one room for so long," she countered, suddenly wondering if her show of bravado and her take-control attitude had been such good ideas, after all. "Without going crazy, that is." "I could lock you in the next time." Unaccountably, her heart soared. Despite his words, she felt no threat from him. Indeed, they'd been murmured in the most delectible, most softly inviting, the most downright seductive tone she'd heard him use. He seemed genuinely glad to see her. As much as, she'd only just realized, she was glad to see him. "You could," she agreed, her voice trembling a little at the thought, and all the ramifications she wasn't able to consider objectively just yet. "I would be entirely within my rights." Sweeping up and down over her, his gaze took on a strange and sparkling gleam. Of appreciation, no doubt, for her new and barely-there Southern belle get-up. "I thought I told Estella to forget about the mask." "It was my choice." Claire's voice continued to shake. Harder than before. As did her hands, which threatened to drop the basket, and spill orchids everywhere. "I see. Disobedient to the bitter end, aren't you?" |
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| What they're saying about Made To Love Her: |
| "...very interesting and surprising twists that will definitely keep the reader on her toes." - Tracey West, Fallen Angel Reviews |
| cover art by Martine Jardin #2 cover artist Preditors and Editors poll, 2003 Cover finished 11th in cover art |
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| "This skillfully woven tale will have you cursing, crying and smiling throughout." - 4 stars, Michelle Naumann, Just Erotic Romance Reviews |
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| "...a good book with a surprising twist..." - 4 hearts, Julia, The Romance Studio |
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