About Nicolaâs Modern Heatâ¢, TWO-WEEK MISTRESS:
âFunny, witty and sensually enticing, TWO-WEEK MISTRESS by Nicola Marsh left me laughing at the antics of her characters while enjoying the sensuality of this novel.â
âwww.cataromance.com
About BIG-SHOT BACHELOR, also from Modern Heatâ¢:
âNicola Marsh writes a down-to-earth romance that will appeal to everyoneâ¦â
âwww.cataromance.com
About INHERITED: BABY, from Mills & Boon® Romance:
âAwe-inspiring characters combined with an incredible story, INHERITED: BABY by Nicola Marsh tells the story of a womanâs inspirational spirit to live her life her way, who is able to succeed in getting the man of her dreamsâ¦â
âwww.cataromance.com
âNick, donât.â
âDonât what? Donât remember the past? Donât admire the gorgeous woman youâve become?â
The heat in his eyes scorched her, captivated her, held her spellbound.
âOr donât do something as crazy as this?â
Before she could blink, he hauled her into his arms and kissed her.
The kisses theyâd shared as teenagers had been exploratory, tender and achingly poignant. Yet there was nothing remotely sweet or gentle about his mouth crushing hers now.
Their lips clashed in a frantic, hungry union, a fusion of tongues, a meshing of desire that left her reeling.
She should have been immune to him by now. She should have pushed him away and laughed it off as a quick reacquainting peck between friends for old timesâ sake.
Should have, should have, should haveâ¦As she stood on tiptoes, leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his neck, her resolve to push him away meltedÂjust as it had ten years earlier, when sheâd acted on all the bottled-up feelings sheâd harboured for him for years.
THE rented SUV swerved on the dusty, potholed driveway of the Mancini place and Brittany Lloyd bit back a curse.
Her average driving skills had little to do with the state of the road or the unwelcome memories assailing her and everything to do with the naked man bent over a thresher.
Semi-naked, technically, as her gaze riveted to the tantalising expanse of bronze, broad back glistening in the scorching Queensland sun.
The muscles shifted, bunched, slid, as he straightened and thrust hands into back pockets of ripped, faded denim, and as her greedy gaze strayed to his butt she suddenly wished she hadnât stayed away so long.
Ten years in London had been a sane choice, a safe choice considering what sheâd been running from, but seeing this hot guy on her first morning home reinforced no place on earth bred guys like Jacaranda.
She should know.
Sheâd fallen in love with one, had given him her heart, her virginity and her loyalty.
More fool her.
As she righted the car and approached, the guy half turned and this time the SUV sheered straight off the driveway and almost straight into a ditch.
The engine stalled, spluttered, died, as her white-knuckled hands gripped the steering wheel, shock and joy and mindnumbing lust slamming into her, leaving her powerless to do anything but watch him approach.
Not a flicker of emotion crossed Nick Manciniâs face as he reached the car, leaned tanned, toned forearms on the open window and gave her a casual nod.
âHey, Britt. Long time no see.â
A casual greeting, without rancour or bitterness; then again, sheâd been the one left to pick up the pieces when heâd ended it.
The greeting and his lack of emotion didnât do justice to what theyâd shared, what theyâd given up and sheâd be damned if she showed him anything other than the same lackadaisical nonchalance despite her jack-hammering heart and clammy hands.
âTen years, give or take.â
She wanted him to acknowledge the time theyâd spent apart, wanted him to ask how sheâd been, wanted him to finally explain why heâd opted out.
Instead, he shrugged, her gaze drifting to those bunching muscles of their own volition, all too aware of how heâd filled out in the last ten years.
Heâd been lean rather than muscular back then and nowâ¦She wrenched her gaze away from his impressive pecs and focused on his face.
Nick the teenager had been good-looking, cocky and a rebel.
Nick the man was drop-dead gorgeous in a rough-around-the-edges way, still cocky and, if she read him right, still out to prove to the world he didnât give a damn.
By the smug grin lifting the corners of an all too kissable mouth, sheâd read him just right.