If You Can't Stand the Heat...

If You Can't Stand the Heat...
Joss Wood

Resisting temptation has never been so impossible…Living on the edge used to make wild-card war reporter Jack Chapman feel alive. These days he needs some time out before he burns out. So what better distraction than delectable pastry chef Ellie Evans? She’s oh-so-tempting… and sleeping right next door! Perfect for a short-term fling!Ellie knows it would be beyond stupid to fall for a guy with ice in his veins who’s always on the move.But daredevil Jack is even more irresistible than her death-by-chocolate cake – and saying no has never been Ellie’s strong point!

Resisting temptation has never been so impossible…

Living on the edge used to make wild-card war reporter Jack Chapman feel alive. These days he needs some time-out before he burns out. So what better distraction than delectable pastry chef Ellie Evans? She’s oh-so-tempting…and sleeping right next door! Perfect for a short-term fling!

Ellie knows it would be beyond stupid to fall for a guy with ice in his veins who’s always on the move. But daredevil Jack is even more irresistible than her death-by-chocolate cake—and saying no has never been Ellie’s strongpoint!

‘Come on, you’re dead on your feet.’ Jack took her hands and hauled her up.

He’d either overestimated her weight or underestimated his strength, because she flew into his chest and her hands found themselves splayed across his pecs, warm and hard and…ooooh…her nose was pressed against his sternum. She sucked him in along with the breath she took…man-soap, man-smell…Jack.

She felt tiny next to his muscled frame as his hands held her loosely, fingers across her hip and at the top of her bottom. A lazy thumb stroked her hip bone through the chef’s jacket and Ellie felt lust skitter along her skin. She slowly lifted her head and looked at him from beneath her eyelashes. There was a half-smile on his face, and yet his eyes were dark and serious…

He lifted his hand and gently rested his fingers on her lips. She knew what he was thinking…that he wanted to kiss her. Intended to kiss her.

Ellie just looked up at him with big eyes. She felt like a deer frozen in headlights—knowing that she should pull away, unable to do so. She could feel his hard body against hers, his rising chest beneath her palms. His arms were strong, his shoulders broad. She felt feminine and dainty and…judging by his hard body…desired.

Dear Reader,

For some reason I seem to love writing about things I know less than nothing about! This book is set in a bakery, which my friends found highly amusing because I have the baking skills of a dyslexic goat. But part of the fun of writing is falling into these alternate worlds and making them come alive. I hope you enjoy Ellie’s eclectic beachfront bakery and the stunning scenery of the False Bay area of Cape Town.

I’ve wanted to write Ellie and Jack’s story for a while and am so grateful that I was given the opportunity to do so. Ellie is, perhaps, not as feisty or gung ho as some of my previous heroines, but she has inner strength and a vulnerability that appealed to me. Standing in her famous war-reporter father’s shadow, Ellie has never had his love or affection and even less of his time. Ellie thinks that she’d never fall in love with a warreporting journalist, but when her father sends her a temporary, broke, homeless and beaten-up Jack, her promise to herself is tested.

I think I am, at heart, a nomad, and I love to travel, so I really identify with Jack’s need to see new places and try new things. Emotional ties to houses, places and people all hinder his desire to keep moving, to sustain the thrill of his daredevil lifestyle. Girlfriends have come and gone because of his refusal to settle down, and I knew that Ellie had to be someone special to capture my very unique hero’s transplanted heart!

A book is not really a book until it’s in the hands of the reader. So thank you for reading mine. I hope you enjoy reading it as much I loved writing it!

With my very best wishes,

Joss

xxx

P.S. I love meeting new people, so please say hello via:

Facebook: Joss Wood

Twitter: @josswoodbooks

Josswoodbooks.wordpress.com

If You Can’t Stand the Heat…

Joss Wood

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

JOSS WOOD wrote her first book at the age of eight and has never really stopped. Her passion for putting letters on a blank screen is matched only by her love of books and travelling—especially to the wild places of Southern Africa—and possibly by her hatred of ironing and making school lunches.

Fuelled by coffee, when she’s not writing or being a hands-on mum, Joss, with her background in business and marketing, works for a non-profit organisation to promote the local economic development and collective business interests of the area where she resides. Happily and chaotically surrounded by books, family and friends, she lives in KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa, with her husband, children and their many pets.

This and other titles by Joss Wood are available in eBook format—check out

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For their love and support, I have so many friends to thank. Old friends, new friends, coffee friends and crying friends. Friends who know me inside out and friends I’ve just met. But, because we share a friendship based on raucous laughter, craziness, sarcasm, loyalty and love, this book is especially dedicated to Tracy, Linda and Kerry.

Contents

Chapter One (#u11a87f85-0955-51f6-b72d-1aec35ee6489)

Chapter Two (#u4930c365-5e24-5eee-b333-00b152819158)

Chapter Three (#uc663d8a6-c1b9-53af-a8a1-3ba8d6bf4094)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)

ONE

‘Ellie, your phone is ringing! Ellie, answer it now!’

Ellie Evans grinned at her best friend Merri’s voice emanating from her mobile in her personalised ring tone, then eagerly scooped up the phone and slapped it against her ear.

‘El?’

‘Hey, you—how’s the Princess?’ Ellie asked, sorting through the invoices on her desk, which essentially meant that she just moved them from one pile to another.

‘The Princess’ was her goddaughter, Molly Blue, a six-month-old diva who had them all wrapped around her chubby pinkie finger. Merri launched into a far too descriptive monologue about teething and nappies, interrupted sleep and baby food. Ellie—who was still having a hard time reconciling her party-lovin’, heel-kickin’, free-spirited friend with motherhood—mmm-ed in all the right places and tuned out.

‘Okay, I get the hint. I’m boring,’ Merri stated, yanking Ellie’s attention back. ‘But you normally make an effort to at least pretend to listen. So what’s up?’