"Enough chemistry to ignite the pages and character growth--Weber has gained a new dedicated reader"
Reviewed by Sandi Shilhanek
Posted October 6, 2008
Romance Series
Over the years I've noticed a change in my reading habits,
and find that I do tend to enjoy some steamier romances
now and again. With so many choices out there it's truly
hard to find one book that does not only a passable job,
but also a truly enjoyable one of mixing the steaminess
with the slow romantic build. It's my opinion that Tawny
Weber's Harlequin Blaze, RISQUE BUSINESS has the right
combination of steam, romance, and believable story line. Delaney Connor is an intelligent somewhat respected
college professor. She believes the biggest issue she has
is swaying the hiring committee that she truly is the best
candidate to be Assistant Chair of the English
Department. However, the head of the English Department,
Professor Belkin, is swaying the committee towards a
beautiful outgoing woman. Delaney's best friend and sole ally at the college
convinces her to enter a contest being held by Risqué
Magazine for a makeover. Mindy truly believes that the
makeover will give Delaney a much needed confidence boost,
and enable her to win the coveted position she so desires. What neither truly expects is that after Delaney does
indeed win the makeover how her life will change. The new
improved Delaney has opportunities that the old 'let me be
invisible' Delaney could only have dreamt about. However,
does Delaney believe in herself enough to grab for that
brass ring with both hands, or does she believe that if
people saw her without the make up and stylish clothes
that they would look through her as though she were
invisible? Yes, RISQUE BUSINESS has a wonderful hero in Nick Angel
who challenges Delaney to not only a war of words, but a
war of emotion versus lust, and while the chemistry
between them does ignite the pages I was happy to see that
Delaney was able to use her makeover to learn about
herself, and to grow as a person and not only use her
makeover for what she could gain not only from Nick or the
college, but the outside world as well. When I closed the last page of RISQUE BUSINESS I was a
very satisfied reader. I don't believe I've read Ms.
Weber before, but I do believe she has earned herself
another reader.
SUMMARY
A literature reviewer out to make a name for herself and an
erotic suspense author out to save his reputation go head
to head in a game of sexual one-upmanship. When newly made
over Delaney Connor publicly critiques best-selling author
Nick Angel’s inability to bring emotion into his stories,
it hits him where it hurts… his sales and his ego. In
retaliation, he issues her a challenge of his own. Either
prove good sex needs emotions… or admit the greatest sex in
the world is purely physical.
ExcerptHer hot, desperate breaths echoed down the long, dark
hallway. Terror coalesced into a black swirl of passion as
his mouth slid down the concave silk of her belly. His
fingers gripped her butt, lifting her for his pleasure,
totally in control. He held complete dominance over her.
Damp heat pooled between her legs, making her squirm in
silent supplication. His fingers tightened, holding her
prisoner, demanding she await his command. Delaney Conner's own breath puffed out as the words blurred
on the page. God, to be that woman! She'd already read this
scene three times since she'd gotten Nick Angel's latest
erotic thriller, but it still fascinated her. Fascinated,
hell. She'd had two orgasms thanks to this chapter alone.
Three, if she counted the memory it'd invoked in the
shower. She traced a finger over the face on the back cover. The
author's eyes, vivid and piercing, promised an ability to
live up to the heat between the pages. She wondered how
much of the sexual appeal was the words themselves, and how
much was knowing they'd been written by the man with the
sexiest face she'd ever seen grace a book jacket. "Professor Conner?" With a gasp, Delaney tossed the book in her canvas tote as
if it had spouted flames. Cheeks on fire, she plastered a
look of ingenuous questioning on her face. Hopefully the
rapid flutter of her eyelashes conveyed innocence, in
addition to cooling off her cheeks. "Mr. Sims, hello," Delaney said, her tone tight and stiff,
as suited a professor at Rosewood. Women like the heroines in Nick Angel's books, when busted
having sex in public places, gave a wicked smile and made
you envy their moxie. Her? She couldn't even read sexy
books in public without blushing and worrying someone was
going to rat her out for ill-advised reading choices.After
all, reading was meant to be an educational pursuit, never
for tawdry entertainment. "I just wanted to say how much I got out of today's
lecture. The evolution of character archetypes fascinates
me." Her discomfort dissipated as Delaney shifted into teaching
mode. The two of them fell into a discussion of the topic,
Delaney growing more animated and excited the more they
talked. She loved it when a student grasped her concepts,
loved even more seeing the spark of excitement in his eyes.
Delaney wasn't an easy teacher by any means. She pushed her
students, keeping her curriculum dynamic and challenging.
But she prided herself on having the lowest failure rate of
any other professor in the English department. And her success would only help in her bid to become
assistant head of the Department. A plum promotion, it'd
put her in the position to take over as department head
within the next ten years. Exactly as she'd planned. And
maybe, just maybe, it'd have the added bonus of actually
getting her father's attention. "Excuse me," said a husky voice. Delaney and Sims moved aside to let a gorgeous brunette
pass. Stunning from the top of her perfectly straight hair
to the bottom of her sleek black heels, even her little red
suit screamed power. Now she was a perfect Nick Angel
heroine. Sexy, savvy and confident. They both watched the woman pass, Delaney envying her sense
of presence and Sims obviously admiring her ass. While he
gathered his composure, Delaney glanced at her watch. Damn. Late again. With a quick goodbye to her student, she
hurried down the hall to the dean's office. She flew into the reception area. The tiny blonde at the
desk looked like a kewpie doll. Flaxen curls, huge blue
eyes and a round dimpled face hid a razor-sharp mind and a
wicked sense of humor. She was Delaney's best friend, and
the two women had bonded over an obsession with Johnny
Depp, eighties rock music and their mutual love for romance
novels, a top-secret subject here at the college. Rosewood
was that uptight and narrow-minded. It'd taken Delaney until last year to finally confide in
Mindy Adams her deepest, darkest secret. She not only loved
to read popular fiction, but unbeknownst to anyone other
than Mindy, she also made a tidy income reviewing it for
various magazines and newspapers. She'd heard a rumor that
two years ago, the college had fired an art history
professor when they'd discovered she modeled on the side.
That her modeling had been of historical costumes in a
magazine layout had seemed to make no difference to the
dean. Delaney could only assume that he and the trustees
saw it as frivolous and mocking. So she kept her reviews top secret and used her middle
name, Madison. She'd have been crazy not to. "Am I too late? Is my father still here?" she asked,
catching her breath. "He's still here," Mindy responded slowly. "What's wrong?" Delaney asked, still panting slightly. "I just thought you might want to know, um—" Mindy
hesitated, then sighed. "Did you notice that brunette
leaving a few minutes ago?" "She had a great laptop bag, with plenty of room for books
and papers." She glanced at her own canvas bag, ratty and
worn. She hated shopping, but she lusted after practical
totes, especially in leather. Maybe after she got the
promotion she'd treat herself to one like that. "She was here about the position in your department." Brow furrowed in confusion, Delaney stared. "My position?" She hadn't ever considered there would be competition for
it. She tilted her head in silent question and Mindy nudged
a paper toward her. Delaney scanned the woman's resume. "Nice, but not as strong as mine." Mindy winced. "I'd heard talk Professor Belkin wants someone who's going
to attract attention," the girl said, referring to the head
of the English department. "Attendance is down in the
department and he's taking it personally. He seems to think
a more attractive assistant head will help boost the
numbers." "A dynamic curriculum and strong teaching reputation aren't
enough?" They both knew it was a rhetorical question. Where Delaney
might hide a mystery novel behind her textbook, Belkin was
the kind of guy who hid a Hustler magazine behind his. The
man was all about looks, the hotter, the better. And even though the position was awarded by a hiring
committee, he headed it. Which meant he had a lot of
influence. "I heard Belkin tell the dean he wanted someone with a lot
of charisma and looks, who could not only handle the
academic side of the job, but the PR angle he's planning to
push," Mindy said to the top of her desk. She obviously
couldn't meet her friend's eyes. Delaney clenched her jaw to keep from screaming in
frustration. Temper never helped, but imagining how good it
would feel to throw her ratty bag across the room sure did. Mindy took a deep breath and shot her a long, considering
look, probably to make sure Delaney wasn't going to pitch a
fit. Reassured, she tapped the magazine on the desk in
front of her. "Maybe if you'd consider a makeover…" she suggested
hesitantly, not for the first time. Delaney was already
shaking her head before the blonde continued. "You know,
something to change the visual so maybe people will give
you the attention you deserve?" Delaney sighed. Spoken like a true girly girl. Mindy never
left the house without lipstick, how could she be
considered unbiased? Delaney figured it was because she'd
grown up motherless that she'd never been inducted into the
girly club. "Why bother? I am who I am. Will mascara and a push-up bra
make me someone else?" The thought made her cringe. Makeup,
fancy clothes, they baffled her. "No, but they'll get you noticed." Mindy waved the magazine
in her hand. Risqué. Delaney rolled her eyes. What a title.
She looked at the tagline, "You're only as confident as you
look." Right. "Who needs that kind of attention?" Delaney groused. She
tugged at the frayed hem of her tweed jacket and
frowned. "What about that whole 'inner beauty being more
important than outer beauty' thing?" "It's a feel-good myth, like Santa Claus," Mindy
deadpanned. Delaney snorted. "You've got looks under all that tweed. You've definitely
got brains, and you're a nice person," Mindy mused. "You
just need to learn to make the most of it all. Take my
advice, read this magazine. It'll have you on the road to
satisfaction. Better yet, I'll bet you even get laid." Delaney snorted again. "Unlike some people, I don't think sex is a cure-all."
Well, she was alarmingly addicted to a certain author's
books. But that had nothing to do with real life. Their
only purpose was titillation. They had the reality level of
SpongeBob SquarePants and even less emotional depth. "How would you know? When was the last time you had sex?" When Delaney opened her mouth to retort, Mindy shook her
head. "With someone else actually in the room with you." Damn. She clamped her lips closed. "What good is another department-store makeup fiasco?" she
asked instead. She'd tried that once in her teens and
discovered being invisible was much preferable to being
mocked. "No, you need something much bigger." Mindy leaned over to
push the magazine into her hands. Delaney glanced at the cover, then at the dog-eared page.
Risqué? "A makeover contest? You're kidding, right?" "Not at all. It's a killer deal. Complete makeover. Hair,
makeup, completely new wardrobe. Not some cheesy thing,
either, it's custom created just for you. They even teach
the winners how to maintain her new look." "Why on earth would I want to do this?" "It's your shot. You win, you'll see what a difference it
makes." Delaney tossed the magazine back on the desk with a roll of
her eyes. "What's the point? I hardly think something as
shallow as eye shadow and hairspray will cure my problems." Mindy pulled a face, then shrugged. Delaney felt bad for
hurting the other woman's feelings. Before she could
apologize, Mindy slipped the magazine into her drawer. The
alarm on her desk squawked a reminder. "He's leaving in ten minutes. If you want to see him, you'd
better go in now," Mindy reminded her. Frowning, Delaney nodded her thanks, scooped up the tote
and squared her shoulders. She strode through the heavy doors, lifted he...
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