The Sweetheart Deal
by Allison Morse
Some people in her small rural community think Ellen Hamilton, the business savvy daughter of the town’s largest employer, is too big for her britches. After all it’s the 1950s and women have no place in running corporations. But when the company is threatened with takeover by John Adair, the man who broke her heart and "betrayed" her family business years ago, she’s determined to stop at nothing to win. Yet, when the cool Ellen turns molten in John’s arms, will she discover the truth about the past in time to seal The Sweetheart Deal.
“I’m expecting someone,” Ellen told John.
“Who?” A flush crept up John’s neck. He was jealous. Good.
Still, why won’t he just leave? Her skin prickled just at the thought of being held by him again. She had to make him leave.
“A date.” She leaned down to straighten the magazines on her coffee table and was aware he surveyed every curve of her body. Her own body was alive with energy. Her right shoulder rolled back in an almost feline movement, and his gaze followed. Deep in her solar plexus, she had already grasped what her mind was just comprehending: the desire, the complete befuddlement when he was near her was true for him, too. At least for now. In this moment. And with this realization an intoxicating power erupted inside her. The manipulator could be manipulated. Like a child with matches, she suddenly had the compulsion to watch him burn.
She gave him a satisfied look. “I have a date with Harold.”
“How can you be interested in that sycophantic—”
“He’s perfectly nice and attractive and accomplished.”
John scowled and dropped into her Queen Anne chair.
She sashayed right up to him. His gaze filled her with a palpable electricity. A giddiness whirled through her mind. Ah, this was why her mother enjoyed flirtation so much. Ellen was no coquette; what she was feeling was warm and primal from deep within. Yet tease oozed from her. She leaned toward him. His eyes widened as the bodice of her dress gapped open, revealing a hint of white bra. “What do you want?”
“Oh, God, Ellie.”
She gazed into John’s marine-blue eyes with flecks of gray, like rain clouds. His shoulders moved with each of his deep breaths. And before she could stop herself, she flung her arms around his neck and pulled him so close that her lips tingled from his breath. She gave him a hot, lingering kiss.
He took hold of her and pulled her onto his lap. Her right hand played with a red lock at the nape of his neck while her other hand ran up and down his muscular arm. All the while the kiss grew deeper, her mind lost in the sensation of him, his taste, his feel and the tightness in her own body begged for more.
The appalling chime of her doorbell sounded, ringing her out of their embrace. “Oh.” She jumped to her feet. “It’s Harold.”
John let out a small grunt, and he shifted in the chair.
She began to pace. What an idiot! She couldn’t believe she had almost been caught in a web of her own making. What had possessed her? She looked at John and groaned inside. It was a compulsion, that was it, or hypnotism. Whatever it was, thank goodness for clichés, because she’d just been saved by the bell.
John stood, and as if he were a magnet, she stopped pacing until she was right in front of him. He caressed her arms. “Ignore him.”
She threw off his hands. “No, no, no. No! He’s good, you’re bad. I’m ignoring you. Ignoring this.”
“Hey, I didn’t make that kiss happen. You did, and it was great.” His throaty baritone voice was both soothing and sexy.
“Fine, I made it happen, and now I’m making it not happen.”
“I have a date.” She was reminding herself of that fact as much as him.
He stepped in closer. “Sure. Go ahead.”
“You’re smirking.” Still, she didn’t move. “You are such an egotist.”
She wanted to move, she planned to move, she didn’t move.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Allison Morse grew up in a family of actors in Los Angeles; before the age of five, she started acting classes, which she adored. She continued in the family business until her early twenties when her curious spirit led her to consider other interests.
After receiving a B.A. from U.C. Berkeley, she went on to earn a M.A. in Marriage and Family Therapy, and a J.D. from U.C. Hastings College of the Law.
Although she loved learning from each of her varied careers she always knew that storytelling was as essential to her as breathing. So as she pursued her professional life, she kept to a strict writing schedule, and joined the Romance Writers of America and Sisters in Crime.
She lives with her wonderful husband in a house in the hills that’s filled with books.
Allison can be contacted at http://www.allisonmorseauthor.com
The Wild Rose Press: http://www.wildrosepublishing.
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