Turning the Good Girl Bad
How bad can this good girl be? PA Catherine North is twin-set-and-pearls perfect. Her hair is tightly coiled and so is her sex life – it’s safer that way. Her only release comes from the steamy romance novel she secretly pens, featuring her too-hot-to-handle boss, Max Rutherford. After all, a girl has to channel those fantasies into something productive… !But when Max finds the steamy book he sees his perfect PA in a whole new light. Now he wants to know just how bad his good girl can be… and he’s going to enjoy every minute of finding out!
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Max was sitting in her chair, eyes glued to her computer screen.
Ohhhhhhhh â¦
Not much of a thought, but all she could manage initially.
She reminded herself that she had turned everything offâthe flash drive was in her drawer, the printed pages were shoved in her briefcase, and there was no way he could be looking at Passion Flower. He was probably looking for the Queensland report, to make some changes.
So breathe. Breathe and be normal.
âMr Rutherford? Is there something you wanted urgently? You should have called me,â she said, forcing herself not to run to her desk but to take it slowly, calmly.
Max raised his head and looked at herâslack-jawed, marvelling, astounded.
And Catherine knew.
Maxâs voice, when it finally came, was unbelievably husky. âYou wrote this?â
Iâm a Scorpio, so Iâve always loved the idea of the phoenixârising from the ashes of an old life to claim a new one. And thatâs the idea at the heart of TURNING THE GOOD GIRL BAD.
In this case weâre taking one prim and proper personal assistantâwho is really a wild child in hidingâmixing her with one tough-talking boss with a secret Sir Galahad complex, and getting â¦
Well, Catherine North and Max Rutherford arenât exactly sure.
All they know is that they have a brilliantly unconventional working relationship that shouldnât be messed with. But when Max accidentally uncovers Catherineâs alter ego messy doesnât begin to describe the situation.
Catherine suddenly decides itâs time to burst out of the cage sheâs built for herselfâbut she canât find the key. She thinks Max just might have one that fits, so all she has to do is tell him to open the door. Simple, right?
Wrong! Nobody tells Max Rutherford what to do. Oh, heâll fit the key in the lock, all rightâbut he wonât turn it until heâs sure Catherine is ready.
And so starts a steamy high-stakes game of seduction, played by two sets of rules but with only one prizeâif only they can agree on when and how to claim the spoils.
TURNING THE GOOD GIRL BAD is a story about coming to terms with who you are and what made you that way. Itâs about rising from the ashes, showing off your coloured feathers and fighting for the lifeâand the loveâyou deserve.
I hope you enjoy watching Max and Catherine turn themselves inside out along the way.
Avril Tremayne
AVRIL TREMAYNE read Jane Eyre as a teenager and has been hooked on tales of passion and romance ever since. An opportunistic insomniac, she has been a lifelong crazy-mad reader, but she took the scenic route to becoming a writerâvia gigs as diverse as shoe salesgirl, hot cross bun packer, teacher, and public relations executive. She has spent a good chunk of her life travelling, and has more favourite destinations than should be strictly allowable.
Avril is happily settled in her hometown of Sydney, Australia, where her husband and daughter try to keep her out of troubleânot always successfully. When sheâs not writing or reading she can generally be found eatingâalthough she does not cook!
Check out her website, www.avriltremayne.com, or follow her on Twitter, @AvrilTremayne, and Facebook, www.facebook.com/avril.tremayne
This one is for Karen Sloaneâquite possibly the funniest woman on the planet, and most certainly one of the kindest, most generous and loyal friends anyone could ask for!
Contents
Dear Reader
DEDICATION
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
...he tugged at the chignon at her nape. Hairpins scattering, the tight knot unwound. His fingers slid through the heavy chestnut silkâ
âCathy!â
Catherine North jumped in her seat, scoring a bright red mark across the manuscript page sheâd been poring over.
Max.
Her boss.
Back early from his overseas trip.
She cast one horrified glance at her computer screen, where the ardent love moves of her fictional hero, Alex Taylor, screamed Disaster! at her. A second glance went to the printer, which was delivering Passion Flower page by steamy page at precisely timed intervals.
âCathy? Iâm back!â came the bellow.
Catherineâs breath jammed like a fork in her throat. Heart leapt. Sweat popped.
She shoved at the edge of her desk and shot backwards across the floor on her wheeled chair to the printer. Grabbed the pages. Used her feet to leverage another whizzing roll back to her desk. Shuffled the fresh pages behind the others sheâd be marking up. Stopped, panting like a woman in labour. What next?
A click from the printer galvanised her. Duh! She should have cancelled the print job first. She started jabbing, lightning-fast, at the keyboard. Find the printer. Jab. The print queue. Jab, jab. Dammit, where is it? Where is it? Whereâ
She heard a curse, looked up. Saw Maxâs brown leather briefcase swinging into sight, rounding the corner. Froze as six feet and two inches of lean, elegantly suited frame descended on her with its usual churning impatience.
