Savor (Billionaire Bachelors Club #3) by Monica Murphy
New York Times bestselling author Monica Murphy concludes her sexy Billionaire Bachelors Club series with a fiery romance that refuses to be left at the office…
Bryn James can’t take much more. Smart, sexy Matthew DeLuca is everything she wants in a man, but he’s also her boss—the youngest, hottest vineyard owner in the Napa Valley—and he doesn’t see her as anything more than his shy assistant. That’s all about to change. Armed with a hot new look and an attitude to match, Bryn is determined to catch Matt’s eye… professionalism be damned.
With his winery’s grand reopening approaching, Matt is trying to stay focused, but Bryn is suddenly making it very difficult. He’s always thought her prim demeanor effortlessly sexy, but Matt can’t deny that her transformation is jaw-dropping …and going to make it very difficult to keep his hands to himself.
But when one thing leads to another and suddenly Matt is stripping Bryn bare, he’ll be faced with the biggest risk of his career—and his heart. Can he convince her—and himself—that this might just be more than a no-strings office affair?
I’m so intent on digging through my wallet I don’t realize I’m right in front of Bryn until it’s too late. I run straight into her, our bodies colliding, and I reach out, my wallet dropping from my hand to the floor as I wrap my arms around her waist to keep her from falling.
“Oh!” She grips my shirt to keep herself from slipping in those heels she’s wearing, and her soft, delicious curves nestle up close. I rest my hands tentatively on her back, just above the curve of her ass as she tilts her head up, her wide-eyed gaze meeting mine. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, her tongue sneaking out and moistening her lips.
Shit, why did she have to go and do that?
“Uh, I’m the one who should apologize since I wasn’t looking where I was going,” I say, my brain stuttering to a halt at having her in my arms. I tighten my hold on her just the slightest bit. She feels damn good. Too good. My skin is electric, my hands itching to search her body, and I realize I should shove her away. End this conversation now before it has a chance to get completely out of hand.
“All right then. Maybe you should.” Her fingers curl tighter into my shirt, fingertips brushing against my skin, and I feel her touch to the very depths of my bones, even through the fabric. My breath sticks in my throat as I stare at her, completely fascinated with the sultry expression that crosses her face. “Apologize, Mr. DeLuca.”
“Sorry, Miss James,” I whisper, making her smile. Damn, that smile is gorgeous. Everything about her is gorgeous. Why did I never notice her like this before? Well, I did get hung up on her scent but told myself it was nothing. That she was nothing special.
Was I such a shallow bastard that form-fitting clothes and makeup was what it took to really make me notice her?
But there’s more to this woman. She’s smart and always there when I need her, which is often. I try my best to be fair and not always take, take, take, but I’ve been pretty damn selfish since I took over the winery. I’ve been living and breathing this place for weeks and months.
Bryn has stood by my side the entire time. Always there with what I need, guiding me when I’m lost. She keeps me on task.
And I’m a lust-addled idiot because all I can think about is how much I want to kiss her. Taste her. Strip off her clothing and see her naked for the first time.
My head is descending like I have no control over it, and she’s tilting her head back as if in waiting, the smile fading, her lips parting. Warning bells clang in my brain. What am I doing? I think I’m going to kiss her.
Yep, I’m definitely going to kiss her and find out what those delicious lips finally taste like. And when I finish kissing her, I’m going to press my face into her hair and breathe deep her addictive scent. Inhale it until it fills my lungs and makes my head spin. I can smell her now, her fragrance wrapping all around me, drugging me, and I close my eyes just as my mouth settles on hers.
The kiss is soft. Light. Simple. I’m testing her, testing myself. She doesn’t run, doesn’t so much as jerk in my hold. No, it’s worse. She should pull away from me and slap my face. Or at the very least, stomp on my foot, tell me I’m a bastard and that she quits. I’d let her go because it’s the right thing to do.
Pulling her into my arms and kissing her is the absolute wrong thing to do.
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Monica Murphy is a native Californian who lives in the foothills below Yosemite. A wife and mother of three, she writes New Adult and contemporary romance for Bantam and Avon. She is the author of One Week Girlfriend and Second Chance Boyfriend.
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