âHeidi Rice is simply brilliant when it comes to writing sharp, sassy and sexy romantic novels!â
âcataromance.com
About HOT-SHOT TYCOON:
âThe amusing opening spins into an emotional and heartfelt story.â
âromantictimes.com
About PUBLIC AFFAIR, SECRETLY EXPECTING: âI was actually breathless while reading this bookâ¦Itâs a sensual ride you wonât want to lose the opportunity of reading.â
âwww.thePinkHeartSociety.com
She could smell himâthat tantalising hint of seawater and pine soapâfeel electricity crackling along her skin at his nearness. He hadnât moved away but stood as still as she, just out of reach.
She glanced back down. Wow, he was magnificentâand obviously as interested in her as she was in him.
âI hate to rush you.â He tucked a knuckle under her chin and lifted her face, his thumb rubbing across her bottom lip. âBut if youâre not annoyed, could you tell me what you are? Exactly?â
She grinned, the charge of excitement making her erogenous zones do a happy dance. Sheâd been looking for someone to use. And this guy had to be the perfect candidate. He was surly, intense, gorgeous, and the complete antithesis of what she was looking for in a life partner. And he clearly wanted to use her as much as she wanted to use him.
What was she waiting for?
Reaching up, she looped tentative arms round his neck, stretched up onto tiptoes and tried to look as if she knew what she was doing. Seduction was virgin territory for her. Sheâd always let the guy set the pace beforeâusually after several tame dates and lots of hand-holding. Which had probably been her first mistake.
Time to seize control of your sex-life, Madeleine Westmore.
Surf, Sea and A Sexy Stranger
By
HEIDI RICE was born and bred and still lives in London, England. She has two boys who love to bicker, a wonderful husband who, luckily for everyone, has loads of patience, and a supportive and ever-growing British/French/Irish/American family. As much as Heidi adores âthe Big Smokeâ, she also loves America, and every two years or so she and her best friend leave hubby and kids behind and Thelma and Louise it across the States for a couple of weeks (although they always leave out the driving off a cliff bit). Sheâs been a film buff since her early teens, and a romance junkie for almost as long. She indulged her first love by being a film reviewer for ten years. Then a few years ago she decided to spice up her life by writing romance. Discovering the fantastic sisterhood of romance writers (both published and unpublished) in Britain and America made it a wild and wonderful journey to her first Mills & Boon® novel.
Heidi loves to hear from readersâyou can e-mail her at [email protected], or visit her website: www.heidi-rice.com
Recent books by the same author:
UNFINISHED BUSINESS WITH THE DUKE
PUBLIC AFFAIR, SECRETLY EXPECTING
To my boys, Joey and Luca, because youâre amazing and I love you lots.
With special thanks to Elaine for making Maddyâs beach rescue convincing.
âTHAT guyâs got to be the worldâs worst surfer,â Maddy Westmore murmured in disbelief as she shivered under her lifeguardâs jacket. The sleeting October rain made it hard to focus but she couldnât pull her eyes away from the tall athletic figure clad in a black wetsuit about sixty metres out in the tumbling surf. She watched with guilty fascination as he squatted on his board, steadied himself, straightened.
Then she sucked in a breath as he wobbled precariously.
The poor guy had been surfingâor, rather, attempting to surfâfor well over an hour, in the sort of miserable Cornish weather that had given Wildwater Bay its name back in the seventeenth century. Sheâd been studying him for most of that time. The methodical way he paddled out, waited for the biggest wave and then mounted his board. But heâd yet to ride a single breaker for more than a few seconds. She had to admire his perseverance, but she was beginning to question his sanity. He had to be frozen through to the bone by now and close to exhaustionâdespite the muscular build displayed by his suitâand the undertow on this stretch of beach was no joke.
âI dunno,â said Luke, her fellow lifeguard, in his broad Australian accent. âHeâs got good form. Gets onto the board all right.â
Maddyâs breath gushed out as Bad Surfer crashed backwards off his board for what had to be the hundreth time.
âNo balance, though,â Luke finished dispassionately, flipping up his collar. âYou wanna call it?â he added hopefully. âBeach is closed in ten minutes anyway and that storm frontâs gonna hit any second now.â
Feeling a rush of relief as the surfer clambered back onto his board, Maddy scanned the rest of the beach in the gathering gloom. Only a couple of hardy boogie-boarders remained inside the yellow flags theyâd set up to mark the lifeguarded area. Otherwise the beach was deserted. And with good reason. North Cornwall hadnât had a great summer this year, but the weather had gone rapidly downhill as winter drew near. Even the hard core surfers had called it a day hours ago. All except one. Who was giving hard core a whole new meaning.