The Temptation of Savannah O'Neill

The Temptation of Savannah O'Neill
Molly O'Keefe

A family's bad reputation is tough to shake off. Just ask Savannah O'Neill. Despite her straitlaced job as a librarian, despite her living a private life, the O'Neill family wildness still sparks town gossip. And the arrival of Matt Woods–sexy handyman and complete stranger–isn't helping.Watching him work makes Savannah long to take a trip into indulgence. That's so not a good idea–she's been there before and still hears the rumors. But Matt is much too delicious for this O'Neill to resist. It's a shame there's more to Matt than being good with his hands. Because when his true reasons for seeking her out are revealed, he could become another affair Savannah lives to regret.

Savannah tried not to look

But Matt was a magnet. The gray T-shirt clinging to his back was nearly black with sweat. His dark brown hair was wet and thick against his strong neck. Through her open window it seemed the wind carried his scent to her.

The urge to close her eyes and inhale, to stick out her tongue just a little bit and taste the air that had touched him, was nearly stronger than her. For so long she’d been in control of these sudden cravings. And now they threatened to take over.

Which added a spice to Matt that was infinitely appealing. At least to Savannah.

This was worse than inappropriate. These ridiculous feelings she had for him were flat-out wrong. Wrong because he worked for her and wrong because he was a stranger and wrong because…well, just wrong.

Dear Reader,

I have wished, more times than I can count, that I was Southern. Not just so I could have an heirloom pecan pie recipe, though that would be fantastic. And not just so I could say “bless your heart” and have it mean the many nice and not so nice things it seems to mean when Southern women say it. But so I could have serious skeletons in my closet. And I could walk around in a slip like Elizabeth Taylor in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and not catch pneumonia.

But I am not Southern. I am from the Midwest and I moved to Canada. But my Deep South fantasies are now being played out on the page in this very fun new series—THE NOTORIOUS O’NEILLS—about a Louisiana family plagued by family secrets, stolen gems and broken hearts.

I am often asked what inspires me about a certain idea, and I usually say something lame, such as love is always inspiring. But here is the truth: I love the heroes. I love torturing them, redeeming them; I love taking their shirts off. Heroes are why I adore romance novels. As I started Savannah’s book, I swore this book was going to be about her. And how could it not? A betrayed woman, locked up in a prison of her own making, she was a heroine I could sink my teeth into. But then onto the page walked Matt Woods. And I was totally intrigued by the question, what makes a good guy go bad?

I hope you enjoy the first book in this series. Please drop me a line at www.molly-okeefe.com. I love to hear from readers!

Happy reading,

Molly O’Keefe

The Temptation of Savannah O’Neill

Molly O’Keefe

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

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

In her fantasy life Molly O’Keefe gets pedicures every week while a team of manly maids cleans her house. Dinner gets made every night by someone else and it never includes a meatball or macaroni. She lives on a beach. Oh! In Hawaii. In real life, she’s married to a great guy with two lovely children and lives in Toronto, Canada. Where she never finds the time to get pedicures.

I met my best friend in kindergarten almost thirty years ago. She inspires me every day with her strength, commitment and capacity for junk food. This book is for Allycia.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

“KATIE,” SAVANNAH O’Neill sang. “Come out, come out wherever you are.”

She snuck up to the mountainous rosebush, searching through the wild abundance of pink tea roses for a glimpse of red curly hair, a freckled cheek or bright blue eyes.

“Gotcha!” she cried, pushing apart the thorny branches only to find C.J., the orange tabby, sleeping beneath its leaves.

No Katie.

This is getting ridiculous, she thought.

A quick Saturday morning game of hide-and-seek with her eight-year-old was beginning to take all day. Savannah pushed through the kudzu vines, ivy and weeping willow branches that dominated the back courtyard, but Katie wasn’t in any of her usual spots.

She’d upped her game.

Savannah tripped over a broken cobblestone, catching herself against a thick blanket of kudzu vines that had eaten up the fountain and obliterated the bird feeder.