Just then the car stopped. âWeâve arrived,â the chauffeur said.
Nick slid across the seat until his thigh pressed against hers. âThereâs really only one thing you need to know.â
Jessie swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. âWhatâs that?â
âYouâre going to be the most beautiful woman in the room.â
That was so far away from what sheâd expected to hear she wasnât sure sheâd heard correctly.
The heat in his sapphire gaze pinned her to the spot. He bent his head down toward hers and her pulse jumped in response. He hovered centimeters away, his eyes still locked on hers.
âI want you more than Iâve wanted anything in a very long time,â he said. âBut if you get in my way Iâll still crush you like a bug.â
Iâve had a girl crush on Jessie since I first met her while writing ALLâS FAIR IN LUST & WAR. She burst into my brain fully formed and already begging for her own story.
But that didnât make this book easy to write. Jessie, you see, is very particular. She knows exactly what she will and wonât do. And when I wrote something she didnât like she would stomp off to some remote corner of my brain, refusing to come out until I promised to fix it.
The resulting story is one I know youâll love. Jessie is now the owner of her own boutique ad agency in New York City, and when we join her sheâs on top of the world. Sheâs determined to rule the ad bizâand love is not in her plans.
But, as we all know, even the best-laid plans get blown to smithereens when the right man walks in. Nick is the perfect match for Jessieâsmart, powerful, and devastatingly handsome (not to mention a fabulous kisser). In fact he has just one flawâhe wants to own her business.
Documenting the fireworks between them was great funâbut hopefully not nearly as much as reading about them will be!
I hope you love Jessie and Nick as much as I do by the time youâre done. And I hope youâll join me online to chat about them! My internet home is www.amberpagebooks.com, but you can also find me on Facebook at facebook.com/amberpagebooks, and on Twitter at @amberpagewrites.
Thank you so much for joining me on this journey!
Amber
AMBER PAGE has been writing stories sinceâwell, since she could write, and still counts the pinning of her Bubble People tale to the classroom bulletin board in the third grade as one of her happiest childhood memories.
Sheâs also an avid reader, and has been addicted to romances since she first discovered them on the dusty shelves of her favourite library as a young teen. The nerdy little bookworm she was is still pinching herself to make sure that this whole âgetting publishedâ thing is real.
When not penning happily-ever-afters, Amber works as an advertising writer in the heart of Indiana, where she lives with the love of her life, their daughter, and a menagerie of furry animals. She also blogs, gardens, and sometimes even manages to sneak in a few hours of sleep.
Donât ask her how she does it all. Sheâs too tired to remember.
To my mom and dad, who taught me to believe in my dreamsâand who never stopped chasing their own.
And to my daughter, whoâd better not read this for at least another ten years. Hopefully someday youâll understand that this is why Mommyâs always so tired (and that itâs totally worth it).
JESSIE HOVERED ON the edge of the dance floor, feeling strangely melancholy as she watched Becky swirl around the room in her new husbandâs arms. Gone was the brittle-shelled worker bee of a year ago. In her place was a true beauty, sparkling with happiness.
It seemed her friend had found her white knightâeven if he had needed a good scrubbing before his true colors showed.
Seeing her joy, Jessie found herself wishing for ⦠something. Not a happily-ever-after, but something more substantial than the one-night affairs she usually satisfied herself with.
Unfortunately it was just her and her champagne glass this evening. Might as well drink up.
She lifted the cold glass to her lips and took a big gulp, letting the bubbles dance their way down her throat. It was good champagne. Slightly sweet, smooth as silk. A satisfied purr pushed its way out into the air before she could stop it.
A quiet, thoroughly masculine laugh sounded from beside her.
âGood champagne?â its owner asked.
Jessie looked up ⦠and up ⦠and up.
Towering above her was an escapee from a fashion magazine. Blond-haired, blue-eyed, with shoulders that seemed to stretch from one end of the room to the other. She smiled. Perhaps her night wouldnât be quite so lonely after all.
âWell, it is turning out to be a more satisfying wedding date than I expected,â she said. âGood looks. Good taste. No bad dance moves.â