âSeen enough?â he murmured, and she who never blushed felt warmth creep up her neck and along her cheeks.
âI think so.â Cursing his appeal, and her blatant reaction to it, Madeline turned her attention back to the table. âWhere were we?â
âNo idea,â he said. âBut I think we should get it over with. Itâd speed things up and, seeing as Iâm only here for a weekâ¦â
âGet what over with?â
âOur first kiss.â They were side by side, shoulder to shoulder.
âI do know my way around a manâs mouth,â she murmured. âThing is, Iâm not altogether sure why Iâd want to kiss a man who despises me.â
Dear Reader
They say that behind every great man thereâs a great woman.
The phrase is an old one, and I like the inherent equality in the statement. Itâs nice. Thereâs room to manoeuvre. It doesnât imply that the strengths of men and women must be equal in every way, but thereâs balance there nonetheless. Balance is something I think about a lot when putting heroines and heroes together on the page.
My philosophyâs not exactly brain surgery. I try to give my couples complementary strengths, and Iâm all for balancing the equality equation. If my hero regularly saves the world, my galâs going to need resilience aplenty and the strength to let him do it. If my heroineâs extremely wealthy, my hero had best be bringing something equally valuable to the relationship. Honour. Integrity. Acceptance. Balance.
What else do I think about when putting characters together on the page? I think about letting them have some fun, and I remember a Jim Carrey line from the film Bruce Almighty. I like the inherent playfulness in the statement. Itâs fun. Open to interpretation. Itâs also not a bad way to open a story.
The line?
âBehind every great man is a woman rolling her eyes.â
I hope you enjoy UNTAMEABLE ROGUE.
Kelly Hunter
Accidentally educated in the sciences, Kelly Hunter has always had a weakness for fairytales, fantasy worlds, and losing herself in a good book. Husbandâ¦yes. Childrenâ¦two boys. Cooking and cleaningâ¦sigh. Sportsâ¦no, not reallyâin spite of the best efforts of her family. Gardeningâ¦yes. Roses, of course. Kelly was born in Australia and has travelled extensively. Although she enjoys living and working in different parts of the world, she still calls Australia home. Visit Kelly online at www.kellyhunter.net
Kellyâs novel SLEEPING PARTNER was a 2008 finalist for the Romance Writers of America RITA® Award, in the Best Contemporary Series Romance category!
Recent books by the same author:
REVEALED: A PRINCE AND A PREGNANCY*
EXPOSED: MISBEHAVING WITH THE MAGNATE*
PLAYBOY BOSS, LIVE-IN MISTRESS
TAKEN BY THE BAD BOY
SLEEPING PARTNER
* Hot Bed of Scandal duet
MADELINE MERCY DELACOURTE quite liked looking at near-naked men. She had her favourites, of course. Smooth-skinned willowy young men were easy on the eye and heaven knew Singapore was full of them. Well-preserved older men could also command attention on occasion, although general consensus had it that they were far easier to admire when they kept their clothes on.
No, for Madelineâs moneyâand she had plenty of moneyâby far the most appealing type of near-naked man was the hardened warrior, complete with battle scars and formidable air. The ones who wore the giâthe loose martial arts robesâas if theyâd been born to them. The ones who didnât bother with shirts in Singaporeâs sultry heat. Instead they let their glistening skin caress the air and please the eyes of those who knew where to find them.
Right now, as Madelineâs eyes adjusted to the dim interior of the shabby little dojo in the heart of Singaporeâs Chinatown, she had the definite pleasure of happening upon not one shirtless warrior, but two.
The first was Jacob Bennett, a raven-haired steelyeyed Australian whoâd found his way to Singapore around the same time Madeline hadâover ten years ago nowâand never left. They understood each other, she and Jacob. Survivors both, no questions asked. This was his dojo Madeline was standing in and if he had a softer side to his formidable façade, well, sheâd never seen it. Heâd scowl when he saw her. He always did. That was what came of asking a kind man one too many favours.
Madeline had never seen Jacobâs opponent before. Not in the dojo, not in Singapore. Sheâd have remembered if she had. He had an inch or so on Jacob when it came to height, but when it came to muscle mass and the way it wrapped around bone the men looked remarkably similar. Same cropped black hair and skin tone too. A brother perhaps, or a cousin, and certainly no stranger to the martial arts. He had Jacobâs measure, and that was saying something.
They had the long sticks out, the Shaolin staffs, and they fought with the grace of dancers and the ferocity of Singaporeâs famous Merlion. Each man appeared intent on annihilating the other but where Jacob was ice, his opponent was fire. Less contained, thoroughly unpredictable. Reckless, even.