He’s annoyingly gorgeous, provocative, and fast becoming her best friend. But he also has a secret that makes the little hairs on her arms stand on end...
It wasn't nicking an expensive watch or diamond bracelet that landed streetwise Jona Montiniere in the clutches of the police. It was a darn sweater. A judge decides that she has to return to her terminally ill mother, who dumped her in an orphanage more than twelve years ago. Worse, for the coming six weeks, she has to do charity work on an estranged aunt’s vineyards in France.
Yeah, right.
Jona is determined to sneak off at the first chance she gets. But then she meets Julian, her mother’s caretaker. Playful, understanding, and sinfully sexy, he’s everything she dreams of—but she’d be damned if she let him know.
So when the first week in her new home is over, Jona is asking herself two things. One, how could it happen that she ended up in Julian’s arms after only three days? And two, how the hell did he awaken her mother from the dead...?
EXCERPT
“Hi,” he said with a compassionate look that made me once again wish the traitor, Quinn, had taken off those damn handcuffs so I wouldn’t look like such a complete idiot.
Lips pressed together, my fingers waggled in a feeble greeting. The mere sight of this man sent a quiver of excitement to my stomach.“That was quite an interesting…situation in there.”
With an evil grin, I hoped to send the message Mind your own crap, buddy. Out loud, I said sweetly, “Glad you enjoyed the show.”
“I didn’t really.” He wrinkled his nose. “Getting involved with Laurel and Hardy in there wasn’t your best idea. Even a smart girl like you might get hurt in a fight with those two.”
Yeah, sure. My eyes narrowed to slits. But his words warmed my heart in an unfamiliar way.
The young man nodded his chin at my tied hands. “They look a little uncomfortable.”
And they bloody well were, but I shrugged it off like it was nothing unusual. “The latest fashion. You heard the judge, I wear them quite often.”
A teasing smile that spiked my blood pressure played around his lips. “Shall we take them off?” he said.
He had to be kidding. “Unless you’ve got teeth like a hacksaw, I don’t see how that would work.”
He crossed the hall to me, pulling a key-ring from his pocket. He squatted, leveled his eyes with mine, and shook the keys in front of my face. The friendly jingle of metal filled the high hallway.
My mouth fell open. “Whom did you get those from?”
“Chief Madison.”
“You stole them from Quinn?” I pulled my hands out of his reach.
“Of course not.” The blond god gave me a pointed look. “I asked for them.”
Why would this guy ask my officer friend to release me? Frowning, I concentrated on the safety pin in my jeans. “Quinn wouldn’t free me when I asked him to.”
His intense blue eyes locked with mine. “I had to solemnly swear to keep an eye on you. Now hold still.” Cool fingers curled around my wrist to steady my hand while he unlocked the first cuff. Sparks tingled on my skin, my hand trembled slightly.
Why would he give his word to an officer, just to free me? Why even care? He’d do well to stay behind that door, holding my horrible mother’s hand instead of setting mine free. With a click, the other cuff came off. I flexed my hands and rubbed my burning wrists. The shackles had left bright red lines on my skin.
“Better?” He tilted his head and arched one beautiful brow.
My head bobbed, but I found no breath to answer.
“Okay then.” He used my knees to push himself up and stretched to his full height.
He probably expected my gratitude following his selflessness. My gaze focused on the ripped hems of his jeans, my lips remained sealed.
When he turned on his heel and marched off to the left, I glanced up. “And now you’re going where?” The words shot out before I could stop myself.
“Bathroom break.” His arched brows dared me to object.
My lower lip threatened to pop from between my teeth as I chewed on it. Don’t speak! “But you’re supposed to keep an eye on me.”
After studying me for a couple of seconds, his expression softened even more. “You’re not going to get me into trouble.”
A balloon of warmth exploded in my chest. I let him take another stride away from me. Two. Three. Four. “How can you be so sure?” Shut the hell up, Jona. “According to everything you know about me, I’ll probably be gone when you get back.”
A shrug of one shoulder and his beguiling smile struck me silent. “I trust you.” A moment later he disappeared around the corner.
My chin hit my chest.
Trust me, my arse! He must be nuts if he thought I could be trusted. With a snort, I rose from the linoleum floor and strode toward the exit.
About the author:
Anna Katmore grew up in Vienna. After she graduated from school at the age of 18, she moved to Austria’s country side.
Apart from traveling around the world, her one big passion is writing. She says about herself that she has been a storyteller all her life. Already in kindergarten, she came up with the most exotic fantasies and tales. Her teacher used to call her a liar. Anna calls it the cornerstone of her writing career.
Inspired by authors such as Lisa Jane Smith, Stepheny Meyer, and Becca Fitzpatrick, she started writing her first novel in 2009. Excessive reading and analyzing the structure and characters of her favorite books helped her develop the necessary skills and her very own voice. Because of her love for the language, she writes stories in English first, and when she finds a few weeks to squeeze into her tight writing schedule, she translates them into German later.
Her preferred genres are YA and fantasy romance.
In late 2012, Anna debuted with her novella PLAY WITH ME and later made this the first book of a series called Grover Beach Team. PLAY WITH ME was a finalist in its category for the RONE (Reward Of Novel Excellence) Awards, hosted by the InD’Tale magazine at the Romance Novel Convention 2013 in Las Vegas.
One funny fact: People always told Anna that she can’t make a living with being a writer. So when PLAY WITH ME came out and sold more than 500 units every day during the first four weeks, she was thunderstruck. It took her a few days to realize what was going on.
Anna is married and has a 12-year-old son. She loves her two cats, Lily and Emma, as much as she loves her family, tries to stay fit with ZUMBA dancing twice a week, and usually spends 86% of her day writing. The remaining time is used up for food and inevitable sleep.
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