Valentine Fantasy

Valentine Fantasy
Jamie Denton

To: Jordan McBride, co-owner of Fantasy for HireClient: Sassy newspaper reporter Cait Sullivan. She smells a story–and she'll do almost anything to get it.Assignment: To be Cait's Valentine–in every sense of the word.Obstacle: In Cait Sullivan's opinion, Fantasy for Hire was a scandal waiting to happen. And she was going to be the one to expose the true nature of this unusual company, even if it meant going undercover as a client. But once sexy-as-sin Jordan McBride left her weak-kneed with his Valentine campaign, Cait realized she wanted him under the covers too!.

“Tell me your fantasy, Cait.”

Jordan’s deep velvet voice sent a warm little shiver down her spine. “I’d like you to kiss me,” she said. When his gaze dipped to her mouth, her lips parted in invitation. When he hesitated, she leaned out of the tub to grab his tie and pulled him close.

“Now, Jordan.”

“It’s your fantasy,” he whispered, before pressing his lips seductively against hers, his hand dipping beneath the surface of the bathwater to brush against her rib cage. Her head spun, her mind whirled with sensation as he cajoled her tongue to mate with his in a kiss more erotic than anything she’d ever experienced. She moaned when he palmed her breast in the warmth of his large hand. Heat, hot and blazing, built inside her as his thumb lightly teased her nipple into a taut peak.

Suddenly, he stopped. “We can’t do this, Cait.” He stood and walked over to pick up his jacket, leaving her wanting him, needing him….

“This isn’t exactly how I envisioned my fantasy ending,” she said, her voice still husky with desire.

“This isn’t the end, sweetheart. It’s just the beginning.” He graced her with a grin guaranteed to speed up her pulse. “By the way, you might want to add a few more bubbles to your bath.”

Dear Reader,

Writing can be such a solitary existence and if it wasn’t for the support of one of my closest friends, fellow Temptation author, Janelle Denison, Cait and Jordan’s romance would never have seen the light of day. The Fantasy for Hire books are a project close to my heart because it finally gave Janelle and I the opportunity to work together. The result of this collaboration—the McBride brothers, two gorgeous, sexy men who’ve captured our hearts and hopefully, will capture yours as well.

Janelle and I have wanted to team up on a special project for years. Thanks to the encouragement of our editors, Birgit Davis-Todd and Brenda Chin, we were given the opportunity to fulfil a long-awaited fantasy of our own. I hope you enjoy both Temptation #759 Christmas Fantasy and Temptation #767 Valentine Fantasy.

I’d love to hear from you, so feel free to write to me at P.O. Box 224, Mohall, ND 58761.

Enjoy,

Jamie Denton

Valentine Fantasy

Jamie Denton

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Tony,

You’re my fantasy come true.

Love, Jamie

Contents

Prologue (#uba0f8a94-e482-5b80-80bf-ebb383eb6e7f)

Chapter 1 (#u3aade68d-45ed-55a6-823a-ca26594a3ed5)

Chapter 2 (#uf2a93e2c-4e3d-59eb-826f-0cc28935ccfc)

Chapter 3 (#uc00f7869-5244-5df2-8da9-bfaba986390f)

Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue

“SEX FOR HIRE?” Cait Sullivan asked, lowering her voice to a hushed whisper. “Are you serious?”

With the critical eye of a reporter, Cait examined the man across her desk. The expensive suit and Italian loafers were apparel that bespoke money, and not the garb of some crackpot. If she ignored the small bandage across his nose and the fading double shiners that made him resemble a jaundiced racoon, his face didn’t look as if it belonged to a crazy, either, but maybe someone who’d had his nose broken.

“I’m perfectly serious, Ms.—” he glanced at her nameplate, then slid his pale blue gaze back to her “—Sullivan. I know for a fact that a representative of Fantasy for Hire was paid to have sex with a client. A very wealthy client.”

Cait’s instincts kicked into high gear. There was a story here, a good story that wouldn’t require her to dress up and play nice with the debutantes of San Francisco—spoiled little girls who made her feel gauche and out of place. It might even keep her away from the boring charity auctions of the rich and infamous, another assignment she found distasteful. This was a real story. And if she could pull off the exposé Louden Avery kept hinting at, it might just mean the end of the fluff she’d been writing for the past two years and push her into the type of reporting she craved—hard-hitting news. Investigative reporting. Maybe even move her out of print and into live, on-location shots with one of the networks, or even CNN.

This is Cait Sullivan reporting live…

She tucked the fantasy away and pulled out a yellow pad instead. First things first. “What proof do you have?”

“One of my former employees obtained the—shall we call them services,” he said, his voice dripping with innuendo, “of Fantasy for Hire. I have no physical proof but I did see a one-thousand-dollar receipt for services rendered. That’s a bit steep for a male exotic dancer, wouldn’t you agree?”

She’d never personally hired an exotic dancer, but she’d been to a few bachelorette parties and pretty much guessed what these guys did for a living cost nowhere near what he was suggesting.

From what Avery had told her thus far, Fantasy for Hire was a rather small, albeit successful, agency that hired out male strippers for bachelorette parties, birthday parties and the like—something he insisted was merely a front for a more lucrative business.

“I need more than your telling me you saw a receipt, Mr. Avery,” she said, making notes on the pad.

“You’re a reporter. Isn’t it your job to find out the truth behind what I’m telling you?”

“Well, yes, but…”

He stood and looked down his bandaged nose at her. “If you don’t want the story, Ms. Sullivan, I’ll go to the Examiner. I’m sure they’d be interested.” He turned to leave.