âDo you like it?â Annabelle asked
Oh, yeah.
âItâs called Persuasion.â
âWhat?â
She wiggled her tempting little red-tipped, pink-striped toes at Wagner. âMy nail polish. Itâs called Persuasion.â
âWhat about the stripes?â
âThatâs a technique one of my friends taught me. She says it never fails to grab a manâs attention. She calls it âtake-me-now toes.ââ
Her friend was dangerous. How easy it would be to walk to Annabelle and draw her into his arms. To learn with his fingers and lips if she wore a bra or not. To drive out the burning need to make her his.
âAll work and no play makes Wag a dull boy. So before I shut the door, I plan to introduce a little play into your life.â
âHow do you plan to do that?â
Annabelleâs fingers played with the gathered material of her skirt, lifting it an inch. âBy letting you know Iâm not wearing any panties.â
Dear Reader,
Have you ever loved someone from afar? A man so sexy and exciting your every nerve ending sparks to life as soon as he walks into the room? You want to say something, to tell him how you feel, but every time you try, your nervous system locks down and you freeze. Thatâs what happens to Annabelle Scott and her own mouthwatering, unattainable man.
For Annabelle, a woman who has quietly been in love with her boss for years, courage comes from the most unexpected place. Finally her true naughty nature is released, and she takes Wagner Achrom on a wild, sensual adventure heâll never forget. I hope you have as much fun reading Annabelle and Wagnerâs story as I did writing it.
This past year has been amazing. Right before the holidays last year, I received THE CALL that Harlequin wanted to buy Never Naughty Enough. Now one short year later itâs in the stores. This is a dream come true for me. Iâve loved reading romance since my grandmother handed me my first Harlequin novel to read on the long, hot summer days.
Iâd love to hear from you! E-mail me at [email protected] or visit my Web site at www.jillmonroebooks.com.
Happy reading!
Jill Monroe
SHE WAS STRETCHING again.
Wagner Achrom rubbed the bridge of his nose as he watched his assistant, Annabelle Scott, slowly rotate her shoulders, first her right, then her left. Then closing her eyes, she swayed from side to side in her chair, her breasts jutting from the blue sweater she wore.
A curl of tension snaked through his body. Heâd never noticed Ms. Scottâs breasts before. Of course, sheâd never worn a curve-hugging sweater before now. But the inviting, fuzzy material of her sweater, with the hint of flashing metallic, didnât quite fit with the cool, professional image his assistant usually projected.
Coolâ¦at the moment Wagner was anything but cool.
He dug a finger under his collar to force a little calming air on his skin. Skin. His eyes strayed to Ms. Scottâs smooth skin, flushed a pretty pink above the plunging neckline of her sweater. Heâd never noticed her skin before either. But then, she never revealed anything below the top button.
Maybe they should discuss the office dress-code policy. Henceforth, sweaters were strictly forbidden.
Not that her clothes were inappropriate, just surprising since she normally wore ankle-length skirts and loose-fitting suit jackets.
His gaze was irresistibly drawn to her ice-blue sweater and his mind took another unexpected, and unwelcome, turn toward the sensual. Something easily dealt with and restrained. Well, not easily, but he would restrain it. He had too much at stake with the Anderson deal to let a blue sweater, and the woman wearing it, distract him.
Anderson. Oh, yeah. Right. With calm and firm determination, he reached for the file Annabelle had left on his desk. He needed to examine the latest demands before he signed, green-lighting the proposed merger between his company and theirs.
Andersonâs stock would bullet up the exchange once this merger was finalized. Theyâd acquire free reign of his fatherâs patents. Using the technology behind Mason Achromâs energy storage ideas, Andersonâs Research and Development team planned to develop a large-scale solar-and-wind-power network, retooling and often replacing much of the aging electrical grid system. It was a far different vision than Wagnerâs of bringing cheap, independent power to the farms and rural areas of the world.
Anderson would gain the better end of this deal. A fact he acknowledged, but couldnât avoid grinding his teeth over. Once pegged as a corporate raider, Wagner would have torn a small, undervalued company like Anderson apart with a few swipes of his pen, all while making a healthy profit. In the past, heâd made the best deals in the southwest. Deals where he, and the investor group heâd worked for, came out on top. But these werenât the old days, and this merger provided exactly what he desperately wanted. Cash. Cold, hard and lots of it.