Published by Jenkins Hill Press on September 11, 2017
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If there was one man in the world Grace Fitzgerald never wanted to see again, it was Mark Donovan.Sinfully handsome and notoriously cocky, as a guest at her luxury hotel, Mark was impossible. As the new owner, he’s become a nightmare. The kind that wakes Grace in the middle of the night wishing she could forget how right his lips felt against her own, or how tempting his fingers were on her skin.But despite all the challenges Mark and Grace face working together, it’s impossible to ignore the attraction that flares every time they fight for control. Or the secrets that refuse to stay hidden in the luxury of the Seven Winds Resort.They’re engaged in a battle of wills. But the real war begins when Mark and Grace realize just how much they have to lose. When mistakes from their pasts threaten everything they’re working for, they have to decide: admit defeat or join forces to save the hotel and each other.A steamy, enemies-to-lovers standalone romance from Katy Ames, author of After the Island.
Grace cracked her eyes then blinked rapidly, taking in her surroundings.
At first she had no idea where she was. The room looked familiar. The colors comforting, the furniture recognizable. But the moonlight was off. The angles different, the shadows in the wrong places. And the bed was entirely too warm.
Kicking her feet free, Grace tried to push the sheet off before she realized it wasn’t the reason she was so hot.
“Where are you going?” Mark mumbled against her neck.
“What am I doing in your bed?”
“I like it better than yours.”
“They are exactly the same.”
“No,” Mark grumbled, disgruntled. “This one’s mine.” His arm tightened around her stomach. “This is the one I want you in.”
Grace sank back into the pillow and searched for something to say, but her thoughts were too muddled. When Mark’s breathing evened back out, Grace tried to slip free again. This time he pulled her closer, capturing her hips under his. “Don’t go.”
“I really should.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“We don’t always get what we want, Mark.”
Grace tried to sit up, but he just dragged her back, his fingers smoothing the curve of her hip.
Grace peered down and humphed. She was naked. Plucking his arm from her waist, she got out of bed, ignoring Mark’s protest. Grace winced as she opened the door to one of the closets, the bright interior light turning on automatically.
Mark groaned from the bed and flung an arm across his eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Finding something to wear.”
“Because we need to talk and I want your eyes north of my neck when we’re doing it.”
“You’re no fun at all.”
Grace laughed. “That was not the impression you gave a few hours ago.”
“Ugg.” The pillow Mark dragged over his head did nothing to mute his grunt.
Grace pulled a shirt off a hanger and was buttoning it when Mark sat up.
“Nope. Uh-uh. Don’t.”
“What?” She stopped mid-button and almost laughed at his put-out expression.
“That”—Mark pointed an accusatory finger at the dress shirt she was wearing—“is going to have the opposite effect you’re hoping for.”
“Oh. Really?” Grace raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, you have no fucking idea,” Mark threatened as he pulled the sheets off his sleek and unmistakably aroused body. “You. In that.” He shook his head. “There is no way I can have a rational conversation when I know you are completely naked under one of my shirts.”
Grace laughed. “Is it really so straightforward? All you need is a naked woman in a shirt and you lose all control?”
“Not a woman.” Mark’s voice dropped an octave. “You. You have no fucking clue how hard it was for me to not touch you that night, when you came upstairs in my shirt. I thought I was going insane. You with nothing but bare stretches of skin beneath my clothes. If you hadn’t undone the buttons yourself, I would have ripped them clean off.”