His business is her pleasure
Beautyâs about more than just appearanceâitâs a state of mind. And at the helm of Espresso Cosmeticsâ spa division, Tia Gray gives clients makeovers of a lifetime. After an inspiring transformation, a runaway grandmother takes off for Vegas on the back of a motorcycle. But persuading the womanâs powerful, sexy grandson that this trip is a rite of passage isnât going to be easy.â¦
Esteemed lawyer Ethan Wright is convinced that he knows best. But a spur-of-the-moment road trip with Tia to find his grandmother, and all the wild mishaps they encounter along the way, show him just how irresistible passionâand Tiaâcan be. Is he willing to give in to the hidden desires of his heart?
âTell me,â he said, struggling for the smooth, polished words that never eluded him in the courtroom. Failing to find them, he simply asked, âIs it just me?â
âNo,â she replied, her voice barely a whisper. âI want to taste you, too.â
Ethanâs eyes never left hers as he placed his drink on the table and then took hers from her hand and set it next to his.
He leaned in and she met him halfway. Their lips brushed in a tentative kiss. The contact lasted less than a second, but answered the other question that had plagued him since sheâd met him at the door.
Yes, her peach-slicked mouth tasted as good it looked, he thought. Better.
Tia moaned softly and her lips parted. Fueled by the breathless assent, Ethan threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her closer. He brought his mouth down on hers, and his tongue plundered the depths of its honeyed sweetness. She tasted like peaches. An exotic fragrance clung to her skin, reminiscent of jasmine and hot summer nights.
Ethan didnât want to analyze it. All he knew was he couldnât get enough of her taste, her scent. Of her.
Tiaâs hands gripped the collar of his shirt and tugged.
PHYLLIS BOURNE
is a native of Chicagoâs South Side and began her writing career as a newspaper crime reporter. After years of cops and criminals, she left reporting to write about lifeâs sweeter side. Nowadays her stories are filled with heart-stopping heroes and happy endings. When sheâs not writing, she can usually be found at a makeup counter, feeding her lipstick addiction. You can find her on the web at www.phyllisbourne.com and www.facebook.com/phyllisbournebooks.
Dear Reader,
Who doesnât love a road trip?
You start out with high spirits, tasty snacks and a hankering for the open highway. An hour into the journey (or when the snacks run out), youâre trapped in a tight space, antsy, irritated and bored.
As a romance novelist, I found the idea of two strangers stuck together on a road trip irresistible and ripe with possibilities for comedy, fun and love.
I hope Every Road to You makes you laugh as much reading it as I did while writing it.
All my best,
Phyllis
Iâd like to thank attorney Stephen E. Grauberger
for answering my legal questions. Any mistakes are mine alone.
For Farrah Rochon and Patience Barton Moore, when it
comes to brainstorming and friendship, you ladies rock!
And, as always, for Byron, you are my everything.
Chapter 1
If Ethan Wright werenât so furious, heâd laugh.
The muscle-bound receptionist spreading tattooed arms across the closed door should be on a football field sacking quarterbacks, he thought, not shielding the posh offices of a day spa.
âIâve already told you. Ms. Gray isnât available,â the wall of a man reiterated. âIf youâd just let me make you an appointment, sheâll see you early next week.â
Standing well over six feet, Ethan rarely looked up at anyone. But as he craned his neck to meet the guyâs glare, he didnât miss shoulders spanning the width of the doorway or fists the size of sledgehammers.
Regardless, Ethan intended to see Tia Gray.
Now.
âIâm not leaving until I talk to your boss.â
If Ethan had come here for any other reason, the giant glowering down at him might have deterred him, but this couldnât wait. He flexed his fingers and mentally prepared for what was sure to be the unpleasant task of removing the man from his path.
Fortunately, it didnât come to that. The receptionist blinked first and ran a beefy hand over his shaved head. Ethan heard him sigh, and he silently exhaled right along with him, relieved the brief standoff had ended without any bloodshed, namely his blood.
âMs. Gray was on an important call. Iâll see if sheâs done.â Turning his impressive girth to the door, the man hesitantly cracked it open and poked his head inside.
Give me a break, Ethan thought. This wasnât the Oval Office. The executive on the other side of the door ran a chain of day spas, not the free world. He couldnât imagine her having to discuss anything more vital than the latest innovations in face goop.