Compromising Positions

Compromising Positions
Kate Hoffmann

A very intimate battlegroundAmelia Sheffield arrives in the sleepy town of Millhaven, New York, to collect what was promised her for a museum exhibit: an antique bed that George Washington once slept in. The problem is one incredibly infuriating—and incredibly sexy—innkeeper who insists the bed belongs to him. Of course, Sam Blackstone has no idea how dirty Amelia is willing to play this game…Sam is furious—and intrigued—when he learns that Amelia plans on sleeping in the bed until it's hers. But he can be just as stubborn as her. After all, that bed could keep his family’s inn from closing. Which means he’ll sleep in the bed, too. And if she wants to play dirty, he’s right there with her!

A very intimate battleground

Amelia Sheffield arrives in the sleepy town of Millhaven, New York, to collect what was promised her for a museum exhibit: an antique bed that George Washington once slept in. The problem is one incredibly infuriating—and incredibly sexy—innkeeper who insists the bed belongs to him. Of course, Sam Blackstone has no idea how dirty Amelia is willing to play this game...

Sam is furious—and intrigued—when he learns that Amelia plans on sleeping in the bed until it’s hers. But he can be just as stubborn as her. After all, that bed could keep his family’s inn from closing. Which means he’ll sleep in the bed, too. And if she wants to play dirty, he’s right there with her!

“The battle for the bed starts at noon.”

She held out her hand and Sam shook it.

She began to pull away but he slipped his hand around her waist and drew her against his body. His lips covered hers in a deep kiss, their tongues creating a delicious connection that he didn’t want to break. When she broke away, he looked down into her wide eyes.

“May the best man win,” he whispered.

Her expression hardened and she wrapped her hand around the nape of his neck and pulled him into another kiss. Her mouth was soft and searching, her tongue tracing the width of his mouth, teasing him in a way that was more provocative than he expected, and his whole body reacted.

But Amelia wasn’t about to let him take control. She stepped away and gave him a coy smile, her lips still damp and glistening.

“Don’t you mean the best woman?”

Dear Reader (#ulink_584f1fd8-efe9-53bf-991b-67d30476499b),

As I was writing this book, my editor, Adrienne Macintosh, mentioned to me that she enjoyed my small-town books. I hadn’t realized until that moment how many times I find myself setting a story in a charming, picturesque but quirky small town. I love the eccentric characters I usually find in these imaginary towns and villages.

And how to properly use a small town? Give it a historic inn with a sexy innkeeper. Toss in some colorful townsfolk. Bring on the heroine, a big-city career girl. Add a snowstorm, and we’re off to a fun romance!

I hope you enjoy the book as much as I enjoyed writing it.

And next up, the Quinns are back for more adventures!

Happy reading,

Compromising Positions

Kate Hoffmann

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

KATE HOFFMANN lives in southeastern Wisconsin with her books, her computer and her cats, Princess Winifred and Princess Grace. In her spare time she enjoys sewing, movies, talking on the phone with her sister, and directing plays and musicals. She has written nearly ninety books for Mills & Boon.

Contents

Cover (#uab1c9cdf-05dd-5cd1-85d4-24621e0e8c8d)

Back Cover Text (#u537f7b6a-5af8-5ac3-a572-21be11ac33cb)

Introduction (#u3ac082db-2c64-580e-9115-42548209cd0c)

Dear Reader (#ulink_a90334e4-8482-528f-bc47-4edf990a9a5f)

Title Page (#u4b3ec9f6-8a6e-5aa7-a4c4-8d534472df19)

About the Author (#u20cb28d0-54d1-5c46-a228-d6b3e42b8cc9)

1 (#ulink_80ede263-c075-551a-a1d8-7e86056ebe5b)

2 (#ulink_1aa6fad4-76f0-5670-9b92-bc4e95ddbb8c)

3 (#ulink_ab546847-6ad3-520f-b66b-eb7bd9e3ce3f)

4 (#litres_trial_promo)

5 (#litres_trial_promo)

6 (#litres_trial_promo)

7 (#litres_trial_promo)

8 (#litres_trial_promo)

9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

1 (#ulink_91054a3e-d6e1-5bb8-8bdc-589514bfe986)

“SAMUEL JEFFERSON BLACKSTONE! Where are you?”

Sam winced at the sound of his younger sister’s voice as it echoed through the ground floor of the Blackstone Inn. He gave the pipe wrench one last twist, then wriggled out of the cupboard.

“I’m in here,” he called. “In the kitchen.”

By the time Sarah reached the kitchen, he was washing his hands in the newly repaired sink. At least he’d thought it was fixed until he heard the unmistakable drip of a leaky drainpipe. Sam cursed softly.

This was one of those moments when he was painfully reminded that the Blackstone Inn didn’t come close to turning a profit from year to year. If it did, he could call a real plumber to take care of these nagging maintenance problems. But Sam couldn’t recall a time in his life when the inn had provided more than a meager living to the person who owned it—and right now that guy was him.

“Is it fixed?” Sarah asked.

“Not yet,” he muttered.

“Did you use the goop and the strips?”

He shook his head. “Just the goop.”