Trick Me, Treat Me

Trick Me, Treat Me
Leslie Kelly

After spending more than a year overseas doing research, true crime writer Jared Winchester is dying for some excitement. So when he receives an invitation to a party his first night back–an in-character Halloween party, at that–he decides to go for it.For one night he'll be secret agent Miles Stone. Too bad he doesn't know that the party already took place–last year. Or that one certain woman will find secret-agent men irresistible…Gwen Compton is tired of playing it safe. For months she's thrown all her energy into turning an old haunted house into a bed-and-breakfast. Now it's Halloween. The inn is ready…and so is Gwen! She's going to find herself a man–a dangerous man, an exciting man! And she doesn't have to look very far…. Late that night she discovers a dark, sexy stranger in the kitchen. He says he's on a secret mission. But Gwen has other thrills in store for him….

“Are you a ghost?” Gwen asked

The stranger smiled, his teeth glittering brilliantly white in the half darkness, making her heart trip. “Not a ghost,” he said, stepping closer. “I think you’ll find I’m very real.”

Gwen didn’t move away, couldn’t move away.

“Want me to prove it?” the man continued.

Before Gwen could answer, she felt him grasp her fingers, bringing them up and pressing them against his cheek. “Aren’t ghosts supposed to be cold?”

She nodded weakly, gauging the rough warmth of his skin. He was definitely not cold. In fact he was just the opposite. Hot. Magnetic. Seductive. Her fingertips scraped across the stubble on his cheek in a helpless, subtle caress.

Gwen had never felt so exposed—or so excited. At this moment she honestly didn’t know if she’d make one sound of protest if this total stranger took her in his arms.

And it looked as if she was about to find out….

Dear Reader,

I am a Halloween junkie. I love being scared, and I love scaring other people. At my place we go all out—big haunted house, graveyard in the front yard, guillotine on the driveway. I have as many boxes of Halloween stuff in my attic as I do Christmas decorations.

So when Harlequin gave me the green light for a Halloween-themed Temptation novel, you can bet I was excited. But if I was going to do it, I wanted to do it right…meaning it had to have everything I love about Halloween and romance all mixed up in one tempting little package. And that’s just what Trick Me, Treat Me is. There are costumes and quirky characters, a haunted inn, mistaken identity, amnesia, secret agents, gangster molls, arms dealers and even a few ghosts. Not to mention a lot of heat…

So grab your pointy hats, hold tight to those broomsticks and be prepared for a lot of fun. You’re about to go on a wild ride….

Happy reading—and happy Halloween!

Leslie Kelly

Trick Me, Treat Me

Leslie Kelly

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

This one’s dedicated to all the talented writers

who’ve helped me so often along the weary writing road. To Marilyn, Mia and Laurie, who’ve been there since day one.

To Camille and Jill, who are always willing to

drop everything and give me a quick read.

And to Julie, Janelle and Karen,

who helped me shape this idea from the start.

Long live the Plot Monkeys!

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Epilogue

Prologue

October, this year

FIFTEEN-YEAR-OLD Rosario Sanchez was destined to be the worst maid in the world. She hated washing floors, loathed vacuuming and would rather stick a spike in her eye than clean other people’s toilets. She’d long dreamed of being a hairstylist. “I’d love to take some bleach to Angel Fuentes’s head, so she’ll look like the puta she is,” she muttered.

But no. No classy hair salon job for Rosario. After high school, she would take her place in the family cleaning business, like a rich girl would take her place at a debutante ball. Rich she wasn’t.

Generally, life sucked. Still, sometimes her after-school job had perks. Like now. She sat in a Chicago penthouse owned by a writer who’d spent the last year overseas researching horrible murders for his next bestseller. She peeked at his photo on the back of his latest book. “Mr. Winchester you are muy delicioso.”

He was hot, even if he was old—at least thirty. He had dark hair, chocolaty eyes. Tall and mysterious, he was a man to sweep a maid off her feet, like in that Jennifer Lopez movie.

She’d like to help him write a new kind of book. “Romance,” she said. Fantasizing, she reached into a giant bag of potato chips. Crumbling a handful of greasy chips on to the front of her sweater, she moaned, “Come and feast on me you big, sexy man.”