After losing a bet, successful publisher Michael Chang
"pretending" to play the piano in a Vegas lounge in order to
spy on his less-than-trustworthy employee. His espionage is
quickly derailed after meeting Thea Danelle, an editor who's
been wronged by Michael's company. She's smart and
unpredictable…and clearly hiding a naughty side that tempts
Michael to distraction.
Thea has gone from frumpy
librarian to the young, wild thing
she used to be--all thanks to the promise of sensuous
delight in the piano player's eyes. And frankly, after
losing yet another author to the competition, Thea is ready
to forget her professional problems and explore those sexy
promises thoroughly. With Michael, she can finally be
herself...until the moment Thea learns who he really is.
“Aren’t you supposed to be playing something?”
Oh, shit! He stabbed the iPad. Damn it. Michael Buble´. At
least someone in the audience would be happy. Meanwhile, he
looked back at her. “You were saying? How did he get your
“With his style and his flash, I guess. And by making me
look like an idiot.” She took another drink, then cursed under
her breath. With a grimace she pulled off the fuzzy knitted
thing and dropped it to the floor. And Michael grinned because
she definitely had a nice shape: full breasts, creamy skin,
and a tease of lace from her bra.
“You don’t look like an idiot to me,” he said, his voice
thicker with lust.
“Oh yes I do. I talk about nurturing talent, he chuckles
like a paternalistic uncle and talks about how it’s a
business, and he’s got the savvy that I don’t.”
“Does he?” Michael wondered aloud. “Have the savvy?”
“Well, he knows how to spout the right stuff, that’s for
sure. And he looks the part, too.” She looked down at herself
and grimaced. “I need a makeover.”
“It can’t be just looks.”
She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t think it is, and I
have my suspicions, but…”
But what? Damn it, she wasn’t talking and he could already
tell she was too professional to just say things to anyone.
Which meant he needed to get closer to her. As he keyed in the
next song, he gestured to the waitress.
Step one: get Thea good and liquored up. Step two: charm
her into talking. How exactly he was going to do that he
hadn’t a clue, but he had to give it a shot. Especially since
she looked like his best chance of getting the lowdown on
An idea popped into his head. “You know, I could help you
She looked up from her new vodka glass. “What?”
“The new look part.” He might be a numbers guy, but he knew
how to dress classy, or at least find people who were the real
experts in style. And he’d love to get a better look at her
body. “Wait until I get off?” he asked. He hadn’t exactly
meant that double entendre, but what the hell. With her hair
tumbled around her shoulders and her lips cherry red, some
things just came out sexual.
She smiled at him, her mouth curving slow and sensuous.
Perfect answer. Until he started thinking deeper about it.
How was he going to find out what he wanted and keep on the
ethical side of this impersonation? It’s not like he could
sleep the information out of her. And yet, for some reason,
his dick was all on board with that idea.