New Release: Blind Date
Hey, readers! Can I tell you a secret? Well, maybe, it's not a big secret. I love steamy-sweet romances. I grew up on those old Harlequins that I horded like some kind of contraband. To this day, those stories are some of my greatest influences -- so much drama and high emotion.
When I got the opportunity to write Blind Date, I was nothing less than giddy. This is exactly the book I love: headstrong virgin meets powerful billionaire. I enjoyed every single second of writing this book.
Here's a look inside:
When I joined the hottest new dating site, Mystery Date, I never thought I’d end up on a blind date with my billionaire boss!
My dream of a successful art career consumes my life, so I didn’t want to join the dating app. I don’t have time for it, but somehow, my best friend persuaded me. Fine. What’s one night? One date? I ended up matched with YourMan01, a guy who seems only interested in hooking up. I’m not interested in forever, so YourMan01’s plans sound okay with me. Besides, meeting this stranger might turn my thoughts from the only man I truly want—a man completely off limits: My boss, Chase O’Malley.
This new dating site is unique: they screen the applicants and set up the date. I have no idea what he looks like. We just have a time and place to meet. And if sex enters the picture, good. That might distract me from Chase. I need my job with O’Malley Financial to keep myself afloat while I pursue my art, and daydreaming about my demanding boss is the surest way to get myself fired. Even if he were interested, Chase always has a new woman on his arm. Anything between us wouldn’t last. What would happen when it ended? That would ruin everything.
I’ve waited too long to claim her, but now Bella is mine. What’s the point of being a billionaire if you can’t use your wealth to sway your fortune? Membership dating sites are lucrative right now, but that’s not even close to why I started one. For once, I don’t care about the money. My entire objective: My new assistant, Bella Renfroe.
When she finds out what I’ve done, she’ll be furious, but that won’t stop me. She’s going in blind, but this date will open her eyes. Soon, she’ll be in my bed, in my life, and totally, irrevocably mine.
“Bels, are you going to wear the sexy underwear we saw at Victoria’s Secret the other day?” Manda asked me.
“Didn’t buy that set.”
“You didn’t? I thought you were going back for it.”
“Nope.” I pushed a strand of blonde hair behind my ear and stared at my computer. Yes, I had a date tonight, but I didn’t want to discuss it with my best friend, while we were at work. I certainly didn’t want to talk about lingerie while sitting in the middle of O’Malley Financials’ cubical farm where we worked. Neither of us were accountants or financial wizards. We were both in the admin pool, despite our degrees—mine in art and hers in hotel management. Just goes to show a college education wasn’t everything. And I had a memo to write on fiduciary responsibility. What a party, right?
My lack of communication and eye contact didn’t deterred Manda as she settled her hip against my desk, right next to my computer keyboard. I drew in my elbow as I awkwardly typed. She’d never been one for respecting personal space.
“So…” she prompted.
And so much for subtlety. “Manda, I’m trying to work.”
“Bels,” she mimicked. “You haven’t been on a date in a million years—”
“Dramatic much?” I grumbled with an eye roll. It hadn’t quite been a million years. More like two years, not that I was counting.
“This is important,” she effused.
“What if you two decide to fuck, and you’re wearing plain old white cotton undies?”
“Jesus! Lower your voice, would you?” I glared at her. “If that happens, that happens. But it won’t. It’s just a date.”
She made a disgusted sound and pulled out her phone. “Did you even read his profile after they matched you up?”
Mystery Date was the newest online dating site in the industry and doing a bang-up job here in NYC. They performed background checks and did extensive profile aligning to hook up singles. Manda—of course, Manda, because geez! This was so not my thing—had signed me up, and since she’d known me practically since birth, she’d filled out all the info. I couldn’t help but wonder what she’d added for “flavor”. Unfortunately, I couldn’t access the actual questionnaire she’d sent in. The site would let me re-do it if matches weren’t to my liking, but I couldn’t browse what had already been submitted. Apparently, my situation was uncommon or something.
“Yes, I read his profile.” There were no pictures. That was part of the “mystery” to the matches.
“It says right up front: he just wants to meet and fuck. After a nice dinner, I would hope. So…don’t you think, maybe, you should be prepared for that.”
“I’m prepared,” I muttered. Also, if I decided he wasn’t my thing, I could cut and run. And that was very likely to happen. It would take everything in me to force myself to show up. The introvert in me would far rather stay home with my dog and watch a movie. And later, when I went to bed—alone—my BOB wouldn’t ask questions, have opinions or require social interaction. It just got me off and went away into the drawer.
“Wax. La Perla.”
“Really?” she squeaked.
“Ladies…” a deep voice interrupted. Our boss, the company’s founder, owner, and CEO, Chase O’Malley.
Oh Jesus, kill me now. Had he heard me saying I’d gotten waxed and bought expensive lingerie? I. Could. Die!
“Are we on break?” he asked.
I shivered, my pussy reacting to him, even before I turned. The air always seemed electric whenever he was near me. And I usually knew he was nearby without even seeing him. And his smell… Expensive. Dark. God, I could probably come, just standing near him and breathing him in—of course, his arms around me would make it even better.
I turned, meeting his green eyes and faint smirk. “I am working. Manda just needed to stop by and ask me something.”
Please don’t ask what. Please don’t have heard!
“Finished?” he asked with a raised brow at my friend.
“Sure,” Manda replied quickly. Call me later, she mouthed to me.
“When she’s off the clock, Ms. Jones,” Chase informed her, having read the silent directive.
She nodded and skipped off with a wink at me. Unlike me, she didn’t really need this job. She was just filling time until she started working at her cousin’s hotel in Chicago, once the construction was done on it. She claimed this job was for extra spending money. Since her family was wealthy and funded all her whims, I couldn’t figure out her angle.
But that was of little importance now as I found myself alone with Mr. Sex in a Suit. I looked up at him, hoping I didn’t seem like a vapid fool as he sucked me into the sensual vortex created by his presence.
“Ms. Renfroe,” Chase said, addressing me. “It’s come to my attention that no one informed you you’re supposed to be working in my office for the foreseeable future.”
“What?” I asked dumbly. His question-slash-statement evaporated my worries about getting caught chatting with Manda, as well as any thoughts about my impending date. Instead, it roused panic. I glanced at the clock. It was after nine which meant he’d probably expected me to his office suite almost an hour and a half ago. Shit. “I-I’m sorry, sir,” I stammered, not wanting him pissed at me. “You’re right. No one told me.”
He crossed his arms as he peered down at me, and I thought perhaps I should have stood when Chase had entered my small cubical. Like this, my face was maybe two feet from his fly and the generous bulge behind it.
Do not stare, Bels! Don’t stare! Don’t even glance. Oh shit, why did I look?
I snapped my eyes away and craned my neck to look way, way, way up at him. My position still seemed strangely…vulnerable. Like looking up at him while giving a blowjob. Not that I’d given any, but I could imagine.