The Hotel Magnate's Demand
Claiming the woman he’s always wanted!After wrapping up the deal of the century, Sydney’s hottest property tycoon Luke Moore is in town and craving distraction. So when ravishing Amy McCarthy saunters back into his life he’s very tempted! When they met years ago Amy was totally off-limits. But now she’s all grown up and ready to prove it…Luke reminds Amy of a past she’d rather forget, but his expert touch helps seduce away the memories. And when Luke insists on indulging their chemistry on a once-in-a-lifetime trip to Singapore, denying his delicious demand is simply not an option!Discover more at www.millsandboon.co.uk/jenniferrae
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âIâm tougher than you think, Boss.â
Luke smiled. âYou havenât called me that in a long time. I think I like it.â
The wrestling stopped. The air in the taxi turned a little thick. Amy stopped moving and stilled her hand where it rested, on his thigh. High on his thigh. His hands stilled too.
âYou like it when I call you Boss?â Amyâs eyes skirted to Lukeâs lips. They were slightly parted. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to do bad, bad things to him.
âI like you having your hand there.â Lukeâs voice was deep and he shifted his leg a little, underneath where her hand sat.
There was no mistaking what he wanted and how he felt. And it sent a thrilling ripple through her to think that she could finally have what sheâd wanted all those years ago. Time alone with Luke. Luke wanting her. It was everything sheâd wanted as an eighteen-year-old and she could finally take itâif she wanted.
JENNIFER RAE was raised on a farm in Australia by salt-of-the-earth farming parents. All she ever wanted to do was write, but she didnât have the confidence to share her stories with the world until, working as a journalist, she interviewed a couple of romance-writers. Finally the characters who had been milling around Jenniferâs head since her long years on the farm made sense, and she realised romance was the genre for her and sat down to release her characters.
This book is for the boys in my life.
For the boys who loved me when I wasnât very lovable, the boys who cheered me up when I was feeling down, and the boys who took care of me when I needed it.
Iâm grateful for you all.
But mostly this book is dedicated to the two boys who mean more to me than any other boy ever has or ever will.
To Archie and Max
The two boys I love the most.
Table of Contents
THREE MILLION DOLLARS. The sweet, stupid lunatics at Amy McCarthyâs work were seriously trusting her with three million dollars? No matter how many times it happened Amy was still amazed that sheâd managed to convince people she knew what she was on about. Didnât they know that she was a five-year-old dressed in a twenty-six-year-oldâs clothing? If they had, perhaps they wouldnât have opened that bottle of champagne tonight and toasted her success.
Perhaps they wouldnât have told her how proud they were of her for landing the biggest account in the companyâs history. Perhaps they would have done what they should have and handed the account to Maree, or Thomas, or another of one of the senior PR consultants. The grown-ups. The sensible, reliable, practical grown-ups who knew what the hell they were doing. Not her. Who considered it a win when she managed to find matching socks to wear to the gym.
The grin on Amyâs face was almost manic as she pushed open the heavy door to Saints, the hip bar and restaurant in Surry Hills where she was meeting the others. Seriously. She totally had no idea what she was supposed to do with these new clients. They were the biggest luxury hotel chain in the entire Asia Pacific region.
She knew nothing about hotels! She was all talk. She knew that. Sheâd been able to sweet-talk people into anything since she was little. Sheâd even considered using her sales ability as her talent when sheâd entered the Miss Northern Suburbs competition in high school. But sheâd gone with magic instead. Which was probably why sheâd lost. Either that or the fact that sheâd been the dumpiest, plumpest, most unfashionable girl in the competition.
Amy remembered the long flowing bohemian dress sheâd chosen for the âformal wearâ part of the competition. Sheâd loved it. It had made her feel pretty and feminine and free. But the judges had called her a hippy, and apparently hippies didnât win beauty contests. So sheâd lost. But her mother had hugged her and told her she was cleverer than those silly judges and her father had insisted she was the most beautiful girl there.
Her parents were two more sweet, silly people in her life. Thinking she was so much brighter and cleverer and better than she actually was.
Perhaps that was why, Amy thought, she had a tendency to make bad decisions. Too many people telling her she could do anything. Maybe she needed to surround herself with some more realistic people. Grounded, sensible people, who didnât hope for the impossible but had their feet firmly set on the ground.
People like Willa. Amy spotted her best friend as soon as she alighted from the small flight of stairs that led to the dark bar that had become her local in recent months. Willaâs bright smile caught on the light and Amy smiled. Funny, clever, crazy Willa.
Amy couldnât wait to tell her friend about her latest mad scheme. Of course Amy would exaggerate and make it seem even more outrageous than it actually was. She knew that would make Willa laugh and she loved to make Willa laugh. Because that made Amy laugh and there was nothing Amy liked to do more than laugh. And go out. And work. And stay as busy as possible. Staying busy meant staying high. And staying high meant not thinking about things that made her sad.
