Today I’m featuring author Monique DeVere, and her book ADAM her Deal Maker. This is the first book of Monique’s Pleasure Flight’s Series.
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QUOTE: “If you love your romance with a dose of humor, this is the book for you. Monique DeVere is a master at tugging at your heartstrings and your funny bone, all at the same time. Highly recommend!” ~ Alicia Dean
When the plane they’re on crash-lands on a tropical island an impulsive heiress and an overprotective helicopter pilot can no longer escape the sizzling attraction between them.
Making a sexy deal with the deal-maker
Flying sightseers over California is part of helicopter pilot Lacey Sanders’ job. The other part is denying her attraction for hot-bod fellow pilot Adam Swank. A painful experience has taught Lacey never to date her co-workers. So regardless of how sizzling the sparks are, she will never go there again. But when they team up to close a business deal, Lacey can no longer resist Adam’s steamy kisses or sensuous lovemaking under stars on the beach of a private island.
Adam The Deal-Maker has the gift of persuasion. Except when it comes to Lacey. For five years they’ve been dancing around a fiery attraction. Now he has her right where he wants her—in his arms—but can he persuade thrill seeking Lacey to accept his deal and take a chance on an office romance?
Copyright © Monique DeVere 2017
Crystal Swan Publications
All Rights Reserved
Snagged around the waist, Lacey found herself swept off her feet. “Adam, put me down!”
His free hand closed on the doorknob to the stationery cupboard next to them. “We need to talk,” he repeated. A second later he had them shut inside the dimly lit cupboard, her back pressed to his chest, his arm branding her, his body heat reminding her of how hot his naked skin had been against hers. Her stomach fluttered with warmth that meandered through the rest of her.
“We have nothing to talk about.” She squirmed and pushed at his arm around her waist, no match for his easy strength.
“Keep doing that, and we’re going to have an embarrassing problem, Lacey.” His voice dropped to the same seductive husk he’d used that night in Washington. “You must know when you wriggle your butt against my groin like that, it’s going to react.”
She stilled, frozen in midair as a sudden blast of desire slammed her. She drew in a sharp breath, angry with herself for responding to his words, his touch, despite his humiliating dash from her bed after he’d given her a taste of intoxicating ecstasy.
He put her down, dipped his head so his lips brushed her ear, sending a delicious buzz through her.
“We do need to talk.” He let his hand slide across her abdomen, making her muscles quiver as he released her. “And I’m done pussyfooting around the issue.”
“What issue?” The confined space felt too closed-in, too intimate. Too much like the perfect place for lovers to grab a stolen moment.
“You and I.” His fresh, spicy clean scent distracted her as it always did.
She put a step between them, scraped back the lock of her hair that had come loose, her breathing ragged with temper and—she hated to admit—excitement. “There is no you and I—me—I.” He made her so mad she forgot her grammar.
“All I’m asking for is thirty seconds to say I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Was he really attempting to apologize for the way he’d treated her?
“For what happened in D.C.”
Or was he simply poking at her wound? “I already know that. You made it clear, so no need to press the point home.”
Adam heaved a frustrated breath, rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m saying sorry for the way I reacted after we made love.”
“Will you keep your voice down?” Her whisper came out a little harsher than she intended. “I’m not anxious to broadcast that stupid mistake to everyone in this place.”
In the gloom, she sensed more than saw him tense, as though she’d landed a direct blow and she experienced a moment of remorse.
“Why does everything with you have to be so difficult, Lacey? Why can’t we just get along?”
And wasn’t that just the question she’d been asking herself for months? “Maybe we should stay out of each other’s way.”
One step brought him chest-to-chest with her. “Or maybe we should give in and have a wild fling. It might be the only way to work this thing between us out of our systems.”
“Adam…” She didn’t know what she intended to say. She knew what she wanted to say—oh yes, please!—but it wasn’t what she should say so she said nothing, just stared up into his face in the dimness surrounding them.
“Yes, Lacey?” He leaned a fraction closer, bracketing her waist with his hands, his thumbs rhythmically stroking her ribs an inch from the undersides of her breasts, making them tingle and grow heavy, ache for him to move his hand up another couple of inches.
She wanted nothing more than to rise up on her toes and seal her lips to his, but that path only led to heartache. Same as it had with Leo. As tempting as Adam’s proposition sounded, she couldn’t allow herself to drop her guard with a co-worker ever again. Already she’d been weak enough to do so with Adam in D.C and look how that had ended. Maybe not in devastating heartache, but it certainly stung enough to remind her never to make the same mistake again.
Lacey straightened her spine, gathered her moxie and said, “You’re making me late to a meeting with Dad.” Without giving him a chance to stop her, Lacey grabbed the doorknob, turned it and escaped the confined space, narrowly missing Shay with the door.
“Whoa there, Lace, where’s the fire?” Shay jumped out of harm’s way. “What are you doing in the stationery cupboard?” She craned her neck to glance around the door as Lacey slammed her back against it to shut Adam in.
Fighting to keep her breathing natural and her voice level, she plucked the pen she usually carried from her breast pocket. “Just getting a pen for the meeting with Dad. Might need to take notes.”
Shay gave her a mildly amused look and folded her arms across her chest in the way that told Lacey she hadn’t fooled her friend a bit. “Wouldn’t you need a notebook?”
The door pushed behind her. Lacey pushed back, using her weight to keep the door shut. It pushed harder, sliding her a couple of inches across the tiled floor. A notebook sneaked out through the crack next to her elbow.
Lacey snatched it from Adam’s hand. “That’s what I said. I needed a pen and notebook.” She grabbed the pants pocket of Shay’s pilot uniform and tugged her along with her toward her father’s office. “Whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong.” She released Shay once she fell into step beside her.
Shay chuckled. “You have no idea what I’m thinking.”
“If it has anything to do with Adam and me, forget it.”
Shay flicked her on the arm. “You told me nothing happened in D.C.”
“So why are the two of you acting stranger than usual since you returned from Washington? And—this one I’m dying to find out—why were you shut in a cupboard with him?”
“How do you know I was in there with anyone?”
“Notebooks don’t just slip themselves through cracks between doors and jambs.”
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Monique DeVere is a full-time author of Sweet ‘n’ Spicy Romantic Comedy and Contemporary Romance. She also writes Christian Supernatural Suspense movie scripts. She was born on the beautiful island of Barbados, where she grew up on a large plantation with enough wide-open space to let the imagination run free. She moved to the UK as a teen and shortly after met and fell instantly, and irrevocably, in love with her very own strong-silent-type hero. When Monique isn’t writing or spending quality time with her family, she likes to armchair travel to distant and exciting parts of the world and considers herself to have the best job on earth.
You can visit her at moniquedevere.com where she invites you to join her exclusive Sweet ‘n’ Spicy Readers Club packed full of goodies for her members. Monique loves to hear from her readers, do contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Where to Find Monique:
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