Sweet Seduction
All it takes is one sweet taste…Daisy Sinclair knows how to make a guy moan with raw pleasure. She should, as owner of the best damn bakery in Chicago. Her cinnamon buns are borderline orgasmic! Of course, standing in front of the city's biggest (and sexy-as-hell) food critic in her skivvies isn't the most professional first impression. Especially when he has a wicked glint in his eye…Jamie Forsythe isn't exactly a food critic; his twin brother is. One look at Daisy's mouthwatering curves, and Jamie knows only that he wants to have his cake and Daisy, too. Attraction mixed with deception is a recipe for disaster—the naughtiest, hottest kind imaginable. And there's no way Jamie can resist being sent to bed…with Daisy as dessert!
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All it takes is one sweet taste...
Daisy Sinclair knows how to make a guy moan with raw pleasure. She should, as owner of the best damn bakery in Chicago. Her cinnamon buns are borderline orgasmic! Of course, standing in front of the city’s biggest (and sexy-as-hell) food critic in her skivvies isn’t the most professional first impression. Especially when he has a wicked glint in his eye...
Jamie Forsythe isn’t exactly a food critic; his twin brother is. One look at Daisy’s mouthwatering curves, and Jamie knows only that he wants to have his cake and Daisy, too. Attraction mixed with deception is a recipe for disaster—the naughtiest, hottest kind imaginable. And there’s no way Jamie can resist being sent to bed...with Daisy as dessert!
Was it a just a kiss?
Jamie wasn’t sure because it felt more like their mouths had just had hot, sweaty sex.
“Wow.” Daisy sat back, touching her lips, her eyes wide in disbelief.
“Between here and there, you need to decide if you want me to come up.”
“I do?”
“Yes.”
They walked out the door, greeted by the cool Chicago evening. Daisy paused beside the bike, looking up at him with an intoxicating mixture of wonder and wantonness. “What will happen if you come up?”
He leaned down and kissed her softly, exhibiting way more control than he had any right to show. “Dessert.”
“Oh. Well, there’s lots of that. Pie, chocolate torte, lemon meringue. What would you like?”
“You.”
I love contradictions. Things like opposites attract, cheering for the underdog, wanting to get down and dirty in a boxing ring...hmm, is that a contradiction or a scene from the book?
Either way, when I pitched a story about a bakery and a boxing club, I wasn’t sure it was going to fly. But it did—I guess boxing and baking do mix—and Sweet Seduction was born. The story features the lovely Daisy and the hotter-than-hell Jamie, a lawyer and private boxing club owner who thinks Daisy is even tastier than her delicious baked goods, which he adores in a finger-licking, groaning sort of orgasmic way.
While that might not be my exact experience with baking, it’s pretty damn close. My favorite thing is the cinnamon bun—thanks to my mom who makes the best cinnamon buns ever. To this day, the smell of warm, fresh bread slathered in butter, cinnamon and brown sugar gooeyness is synonymous with comfort and home, just as it is for Daisy.
As for the boxing? Besides the fact that ripped, shirtless guys duking it out is hot, growing up with three older brothers and a mother who only knows one haircut—a boy cut (aka pixie cut)—meant that when I tagged along to boxing practice with my brothers, their coaches asked why their “little brother” didn’t join in. So I did.
I hope you enjoy Sweet Seduction and stay tuned for the second book in the series, Big Sky Seduction, featuring Daisy’s best friend Gloria.
Happy reading!
Daire St. Denis
New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author DAIRE ST. DENIS is an adventure seeker, an ancient history addict, a seasonal hermit and a wine lover. She calls the Canadian Rockies home and has the best job ever: writing smoking-hot contemporary romance where the pages are steeped in sensuality and there’s always a dash of the unexpected. Find out more about Daire and subscribe to her newsletter at dairestdenis.com.
For Lady Laine, the best baker I know.
Contents
DAISY SINCLAIR’S PHONE came alive on her desk, jumping and jiving to “Candy” by Foxy Brown. She’d been so absorbed in entering information into Accounts Payable that the sudden noise startled her silly.
“What’s up?” Daisy said aloud, picking up the device and checking the message on the screen. It was the reminder she’d set four weeks ago. Four hellish weeks ago. And now, four weeks later, the reminder was telling her it was time. Time to face the music. Time to see whether the torture she’d put herself through had all been worth it.
After nudging the scale out from beneath her desk, Daisy tiptoed to her office door and shut it. Then she gave herself a once-over in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. There was a streak of flour on her cheek that she rubbed off with the back of her hand before her gaze dropped. Hmm. The apron she wore made her look boxy.
She untied it and slipped it off.
Unfortunately, the well-worn jeans and loose cotton blouse weren’t much better, so she stripped those off, too, dropping them in a pile by the door.
There. Now she could see what was what. She’d avoided the full-length mirror for four weeks for just this purpose. The celebrity gala that her mother had managed to get her a ticket to was on Saturday, only five days away, and she was determined to look her best in her fabulous new red dress—hence the month of hell she’d endured. Daisy swiveled in front of the mirror, eyes narrowed, searching her figure for the changes that had to be there.
Generous hips.
