About WICKED BEAUTIFUL
Payback's a bitch...named Victoria.
Life coach and best-selling author Victoria Price has it all: a successful career, fabulous friends, a fantastic penthouse in Manhattan. What she doesn’t have—and doesn’t want—is a husband. Fifteen years ago her high school flame broke her heart so badly she swore she’d never love again. Now she makes millions teaching other women how to be just like her: a ruthless bitch.
Drop-dead sexy restaurateur and infamous playboy Parker Maxwell has only three rules for the women he dates: no questions about his past, no expectations for the future, and no spending the night. When he meets Victoria, however, he’s willing to break his own rules if it means sating the explosive desire she arouses in him. What he doesn’t know is that the alluring Victoria Price used to be the mousy Isabel Diaz, the girl he deflowered and dumped long ago.
Presented with a perfect opportunity for revenge, Victoria decides the game is on. But when her connection with Parker proves more than just skin deep, she has to make a choice: continue with her plan for payback, or risk her career, her reputation, and her heart by taking a second chance on love?
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J.T. Geissinger's WICKED SEXY is coming Summer 2016....
EXCERPT!!!!!
I feel his piercing sideways glance. I wish the earth would
experience an extinction level event and I’d be conveniently rescued
from the acute misery of this moment. A giant asteroid would do the
trick.
Then— mercifully— a sleek black Mercedes pulls around the corner. It rolls to a stop in front of the curb.
“That’s
me.” Grateful for the reprieve, I turn to Parker and extend my hand.
“Thank you for dinner. I appreciate your generosity.”
Another
trait he’s had since adolescence. And another thing I’d forgotten until
now: how he was always so giving, always so thoughtful, always so
concerned with everyone else.
Until he wasn’t.
Parker takes my hand and holds it. His eyes burn into mine. “Ms. Price. It’s been a singular pleasure meeting you.”
His hand is big and warm. I like the feel of it entirely too much. Coolly, I withdraw.
“Mr. Maxwell. Good evening.”
I
turn for the door. Parker opens it for me before I can even reach for
the handle. When he sees me exit the restaurant, my driver leaps from
the car and opens the rear door.
Parker walks me from
the restaurant to the car with an umbrella he’s magically procured from
somewhere, held over my head, protecting me from the rain. I step
carefully over a puddle. Blocking the driver, Parker takes hold of my
hand as I lower myself into the car.
He bends down to
look at me. Rain pours off the umbrella, soaking his lower legs,
trousers and shoes. He ignores it. Looking deep into my eyes, he says in
a low voice, “I want to see you again. There’s a charity gala I’m
attending next Friday evening. Come with me.”
I must be coming down with something. I haven’t felt this fevered and shaky in years.
“How do you know I’m not married?”
A
smile flickers over his mouth. His thumb brushes my knuckles, leaving a
trail of sparks in its wake. “You’re not wearing a ring.”
“I could be in a serious relationship.”
“You’re not.”
“Oh no? And how would you know that?”
His
smile deepens. In the low light, his eyes gleam as if he’s running a
fever, too. “Because if you were, Ms. Price, you wouldn’t be looking at
me like that.”
The nerve. The self-absorbed, stuck-up, egomaniacal nerve of this man!
It
doesn’t help matters that I suspect he’s right. I say icily, “Perhaps
you need your eyes examined, Mr. Maxwell. Or your head.”
He chuckles. “Is that a yes or a no?”
I withdraw my hand from his grip and grant him my profile. “It’s neither. Have a nice life, Mr. Maxwell.”
I tell the driver I’m ready. Parker chuckles again, and then straightens. “You do the same, Ms. Price.” He closes the door.
The
car pulls away from the curb. I don’t look back. But I do wait several
moments before I open my handbag, pull out my compact mirror, and hold
it up to my face. Through the rear window, I have a perfect view of the
restaurant receding into the night, and of Parker Maxwell standing at
the rain-swept curb under the shadow of an umbrella, watching me go.
For
the first time in hours, I can breathe. I wait until the subtle tremble
has left my hands, and then I settle back into the seat and start to
plot.
Let the games begin.
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About J.T. Geissinger
J.T. Geissinger is an award winning and best-selling author of dark, sexy romance.
She is the recipient of the Prism Award for Best First Book, the Golden Quill Award for Best Paranormal/Urban Fantasy, and was a finalist for the prestigious RITA© Award from the Romance Writers of America. Her work has also finaled in the Booksellers’ Best, National Readers’ Choice, and Daphne du Maurier Awards.
She lives in California with her husband, on whom all her heroes are based.
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