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Hot Sexy Desire Excerpt

Hot Sexy Desire by Nadia LeeKristen

Hot. Sexy. Desirable.

Three words Antoine swore he'd never associate with me. It isn't easy falling for your older brother's best friend, especially when he's a sexy as hell, hard-headed, over-protective alpha male. Unfortunately, he still treats me like the little sister he never had.

When a topless picture of me hits the front page of a tabloid site, I get a whole crop of stalkers and weirdos. The only man I know who can keep me safe is Antoine Boucher. This time I won't make it easy for him though.

Sexy lingerie — check.
Accidental power outage — check.
Seductive candles — check.
Robe that accidentally opens for a peep show…

Antoine

Hot. Sexy. Desirable.

Three words I should never associate with Kristen…but I do. It's wrong, of course. Not only is she my best friend's baby sister, but I'm not exactly the kind of guy who takes girls home to meet my mother. Just ask my exes.

My mom, however, would be ecstatic if I brought home a girl. Especially since my eccentric grandfather came up with this crazy scheme to get me to marry and produce an heir in order to inherit his billion dollar fortune. Mom is nagging me to go for it, but no thanks. I don't need Grandpa's money. I have plenty of my own.

When a freak breaks into Kristen's apartment — nude — I know what I have to do.

Watch over Kristen 24/7.
Keep my hands to myself.
Make sure my meddling mom never learns about the situation.

Piece of cake, right?

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EXCERPT

I absorb the scene around me, feeling like an observer looking in from far away. It seems crazy I’m in the center of this…insanity. My small apartment buzzes with activity. Four cops fill the living room and bedroom. The pervert is face-down on the living room floor, wrists cuffed tight. He’s bleeding from a gash on his forehead and from his mouth and nose, staining the carpet.

Pink roses are scattered on the floor. They’re from my brother’s wedding ceremony. Ming Ming told me I should take them because they’d be good for about a week and do wonders for my home. Well, they’re toast now. Somehow the vase survived the head smashing. Guess the human head isn’t as hard as I thought. I dropped the vase as soon as it hit him, ready to kick the guy the way—and in the place—he deserved. I’ve been taking self-defense courses since my kidnapping scare, and I wasn’t going to be a victim.

Except Antoine, appearing out of nowhere, pushed me behind him and took care of the beating up himself.

The cop who looks the nicest and most understanding out of the bunch took my statement already, and now I’m waiting for them to be done with Antoine. From time to time, they steal a glance in my direction. I feel my shoulders rising. They’re probably judging me. A topless girl flashing an underage boy. She probably asked for this

After what feels like an eternity, I’m allowed to leave, along with my purse, laptop bag and a carry-on case with toiletries and a change of clothes and shoes. Antoine and a couple of officers escort me out.

There’s a swarm of paparazzi outside. “Fucking vultures,” Antoine says.

“Don’t worry. We’ve got guys to run interference for you,” the nice cop says from behind us. Officer Brady, I remember now. Mr. Understanding. He looks all-American wholesome, with golden hair and sky-blue eyes, smile lines fanning from the corners.

Sure enough, there are officers pushing a sizable crowd of paparazzi away from me and Antoine as we make our way to the SUV. Antoine shields me as he helps me inside the car, and he moves quickly getting in. Then he honks once and starts moving the vehicle with more speed and menace than I expected.

The paparazzi part. They can probably sense Antoine is very willing to mow them all down if they don’t get out of the way.

I glance in Antoine’s direction. His jaw’s tight, muscles bunching and un-bunching. Crap. He’s mad.

Then I notice the blood on his knuckles. “Are you all right?”

He looks at me like I’m crazy. “Of course.”

“There’s blood on your hand.”

He flexes it around the steering wheel. “I didn’t feel anything when I punched him, and I don’t feel it now either. Not my blood, anyway.” He adds under his breath, “Fucking papholes.”

“What?”

“Paparazzi assholes.”

This is a serious situation. A pervert violated my home and sense of safety. The stains I later noticed on my sheets made it obvious what nauseating things the creep was doing while waiting for me to come home. I’m going to have to get rid of the bed now. That sleazy site is trying to paint me as some kind of whore who doesn’t deserve any consideration or decency, and many, many people are piling on.

But I can’t help it. I snort, then giggle uncontrollably even as my eyes prickle with tears. I place a hand over my belly as the muscles there clench hard.

“Uh…” Antoine gives me the look normally reserved for a ticking time bomb. “Are you all right?”

“Well…it could’ve been worse. What can I do except laugh?” I wipe the tears from my eyes. “I’m not going to cry, Antoine. I’m not giving them that much power.”

His shoulders relax a fraction. “Good.”

I sit for a bit, then say, “I’m sorry you missed the look on his face when I picked up the vase and started screaming.”

“Did he look terrified?”

“Ready to piss himself.”

A corner of his lips quirks up. “You need to work on your scary face. I didn’t see any puddle of piss when I busted in there.”

“Ew, gross.” I giggle again. “It’s bad enough that he bled all over the living room carpet.”

“That’s what incinerators are for. Afterward, you can redecorate your place the way you see fit.” Antoine says with mock seriousness, “With pink carpet.”

“Pink?”

“Your favorite color.” He shoots me a teasing grin. “Isn’t it?”

It is. And suddenly I’m feeling all giddy he noticed.

My phone rings. The screen says Dominic. I inhale, then add an extra bit of perkiness to my voice and hit the green button. “Hey, brother! How’s Bora Bora? Getting bored with paradise yet?”

Antoine makes a face and shakes his head almost imperceptibly. Guess I overdid it.

What the hell is going on?” Dominic demands.

“What he means is, ‘Are you all right, Kristen?’” Liza says, her voice laced with concern.

“Yeah, fine,” I say. “I’m okay.”

“Are you alone?” she asks, then makes a soothing noise, probably for my brother. I can picture her running a hand down his shoulder and arm.

“No. I’m in a car with Antoine.”

“It’d probably be easier and faster with all of us on speaker,” she says.

“Okay.” I hit a few buttons on the console, and my phone’s connected to the Bluetooth speakers in the car.

“I got a call from the police,” Liza explains.

I almost forgot. LAPD and the sheriff’s department all think she walks on water. She’s raised so much money for both over the years.

“A naked rapist in your room, Kristen! This… Argh!” Dominic can’t even continue. I’ve never heard my older brother at a loss for words.

“Nothing happened,” I say. “The only thing that’s hurt is his head…which I bashed with a vase. Also, Antoine hit him. Like, really hard.” The memory of his fist connecting with the creep’s face is still satisfying.

“Thanks, man,” Dominic says. “I owe you one.”

“Hey,” Antoine says. “What are friends for?”

“We had no idea,” Liza says. “We’re both off the Internet. If I’d known what the Blaze did, I would’ve had Tolyan deal with them.”

No! Not Tolyan! Not that I don’t like him, but getting Tolyan involved would mean no Antoine.

“He called me,” Antoine says. “I told him I’d handle it.”

Oooooohhhhh, you did…? Suddenly, I feel a little bit more optimistic.

“She obviously can’t stay at her place now,” Dominic says.

“No,” Antoine agrees.

“I’m not doing hotels forever,” I say, doing my best not to bounce around. But Antoine can stay with me to keep me safe! What a brilliant idea. Not that I’m going to say that out loud because if I do, Antoine will do the exact opposite. The man can be positively perverse.

“I wasn’t going to suggest that,” Dominic says. “You should stay at my place until this dies down.”

I make a face. Dominic’s penthouse has excellent security. But at the same time, I’ve worked very hard to establish my independence and make my own way in the world. That’s why I live in a small apartment that I can afford, rather than the big, swanky place he wanted to rent for me. I never want to be known as “that girl who mooches off her rich brother.”

What Dominic should’ve done is suggest I stay at Antoine’s place…

“Dominic’s right,” Liza says. “You have to be careful.”

“But I’m nobody!” I protest.

“What you are is a fresh, juicy target,” Liza says. “Famous without any scandal attached to her name yet.”

Antoine’s expression turns stormy.

She continues, “I called Ryder, and he’s going to have his people handle things for you. You don’t have to do anything except sit tight and let them work their magic.”

Oh my. Normally I would be squealing at the mention of her brother Ryder Reed. He’s one of the hottest leading men in Hollywood. Voted the Sexiest Man Alive four times, he has the face and body to match the title, with the kind of blue eyes that can make a woman’s heart stop. Unlike some stars who are only pretty in pictures, he’s fabulous looking in real life too, almost unnaturally so. He struck me dumb when Liza introduced us.

But despite all that, he isn’t my type…because my kind of guy is Antoine. I glance at my perfect man and give him a small smile.

Antoine grows more serious. “She didn’t ask for the publicity,” he points out, his voice flatter than a squished pancake.

“That’s precisely why Ryder’s team is going to handle it,” Liza says. “They can do whatever necessary to minimize the damage, and restore normalcy to her life as quickly as possible. They’re experts at this.”

“She still needs a bodyguard,” Dominic says, talking like I’m not present for the conversation. “I’m not having her run around free for some pervert to grab or flash or whatever.”

“I agree. Someone professional, un-bribable and loyal,” Liza adds.

Someone like Antoine!

“Antoine?” Dominic says.

Yay! Great minds think alike!

“There’s no one else I trust more,” my brother adds.

“Perfect.” Liza’s voice is lighter.

Antoine’s brow furrows as my brother and his wife go on and on about how perfect Antoine is. Oh no. He’s going to find a way to excuse himself.

No, no, nonononononononono! “I think—”

“Fine, I’ll handle it personally,” Antoine says.

Oh my God, did he just say fine? I pump my fist. “Yes!

“What?” Dominic and Liza say at the same time, while Antoine glances over.

My cheeks heat, and I cover them with my palms, doing my best not to grin like an idiot. I should be ridiculously embarrassed, but I’m too happy to care. Finally, something has gone right on this disastrous day. And the pleasure’s going to be all mine.

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Cover Reveal: HOT SEXY DESIRE

Hot Sexy Desire by Nadia LeeA hot new contemporary romance standalone from the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Nadia Lee!

KRISTEN

Hot. Sexy. Desirable.

Three words Antoine swore he'd never associate with me. It isn't easy falling for your older brother's best friend, especially when he's a sexy as hell, hard-headed, over-protective alpha male. Unfortunately, he still treats me like the little sister he never had.

When a topless picture of me hits the front page of a tabloid site, I get a whole crop of stalkers and weirdos. The only man I know who can keep me safe is Antoine Boucher. This time I won't make it easy for him though.

Sexy lingerie–check.
Accidental power outage–check.
Seductive candles–check.
Robe that accidentally opens for a peep show…

ANTOINE

Hot. Sexy. Desirable.

Three words I should never associate with Kristen…but I do. It's wrong, of course. Not only is she my best friend's baby sister, but I'm not exactly the kind of guy who takes girls home to meet my mother. Just ask my exes.

My mom, however, would be ecstatic if I brought home a girl. Especially since my eccentric grandfather came up with this crazy scheme to get me to marry and produce an heir in order to inherit his billion dollar fortune. Mom is nagging me to go for it, but no thanks. I don't need Grandpa's money. I have plenty of my own.

When a freak breaks into Kristen's apartment–nude–I know what I have to do.

Watch over Kristen 24/7.
Keep my hands to myself.
Make sure my meddling mom never learns about the situation.

Piece of cake, right?

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The Billionaire’s Claim: Redemption is out now!

The Billionaire's Claim: Redemption by Nadia LeeElizabeth Pryce-Reed.

An angel. A virgin. My first love.

She was my life until she betrayed me ten years ago. So I built an empire and came after her, intent on vengeance.

Instead of giving me the nasty fight I expected, she gazed at me with tragedy in her eyes…then made an unexpected, gut-wrenching move that left me reeling…and vanished.

Elizabeth might've cut me out of her life, but I haven't cut her out of mine.

Nothing's over until I say it's over.

The epic conclusion to Elizabeth Pryce-Reed & Dominic King’s romance, which started in The Billionaire's Claim: Obsession.

Order Now

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The Billionaire's Claim: Redemption out now


The Billionaire’s Claim: Redemption Chapter 2

The Billionaire's Claim: Redemption by Nadia LeeDominic

If I thought six days and some hours were long, that’s nothing compared to the twelve hours and thirty-seven minutes it took from L.A. to St. Cecilia. And the flight is nothing compared to the forty-some minutes it takes from the airport to the resort. Normally it takes about twenty-five minutes, but the weather’s horrible with storms and torrential rain that also caused takeoff to be delayed.

“Relax. She isn’t going anywhere,” says Antoine.

“I know.” That’s why I can’t relax.

My right heel keeps bobbing up and down, betraying my tension. I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell Elizabeth when I finally see her. I practiced a speech all those days I waited for information about her whereabouts and during the flight, but the words seem to have vanished now that I’m about to face her.

Maybe it’s a good thing the drive’s taking longer. It might give me the time to come up with something perfect to say—or do—to fix all this.

“I reserved a villa next to hers. Unless she hides in her room for the rest of her stay, there’s no way she won’t run into you,” Antoine says.

“Thanks.”

“What are friends for?” He shoots me a serious look. “I know you think that she must not like you anymore, but I say she still must have some feelings if she gave you the portrait.”

“It was a token farewell, nothing more.” But I recognize the significance of her gifting me the portrait now.

“Then give it back. Reject her farewell.”

I choke back a laugh. If only it were that simple. “It might not be enough.”

The portrait rightfully belongs to her, and she might not think my giving it back would be sufficient to make anything right. She might always look at me and see the man who should’ve believed her from the beginning but failed. Telling her about seeing Yu-Jin would likely upset her more—it required another person to make me listen.

How could I listen to a stranger, but not the person who’s dearest to me? That question would surely cross her mind, too.

Our driver finally pulls into a modern seven-story building that spreads out before us like a lazy giant. Located on a pristine strip of white beach, Aylster Resort is stunningly luxurious, with tall columns of marble and crystal set off by palm trees and the sea beyond. The water was a sparkling jade expanse on the website and brochure, but the horrendous weather has turned it dark and churning. Red flags have gone up on the beach, warning both tourists and locals to stay away.

The check-in is efficient, with a serving of ice-cold sweetened fruit tea for us to sip while a clerk clicks around on her computer. She never once fails to smile or keep her voice sweet. Maybe being around people like her—and beautiful natural surroundings—will make Elizabeth more amenable to seeing me.

After handing Antoine and I key cards, she takes us to our villa through beautiful paths winding through the huge resort grounds in a covered car. “We would normally walk, but with the weather like this, I thought it’d be more comfortable this way,” she says.

Unlike what I imagined, all the villas are spaced fairly far apart to give maximum privacy to their guests. The woman explains all the amenities and features of the resort as we drive slowly past them, then sighs regretfully. “Weather’s usually very pleasant around this time of the year, so I’m not sure why we’re having this storm. But the news says it’s going to clear by tomorrow morning. If you’d like, we have an extensive menu of in-room spa treatments. We’re running a stormy-day special, so they’re all twenty percent off.”

“Thanks,” I say, doing my best to appear relaxed and not at all torn between impatience and dread. Impatience because this is taking so long. Dread because I’m still blanking on the speeches I’ve prepared.

When we arrive at the villa, there’s already someone in a uniform—a short-sleeve top in turquoise and matching slacks—waiting for us by the door with a huge umbrella.

“That’s Manuel, your butler,” the front desk clerk explains.

“Welcome to Aylster Resort,” Manuel says with a wide smile, placing the umbrella over us. He’s nothing like the clichéd butlers you see on TV shows, his manners fluid and friendly, his sun-browned face open and warm.

He takes over from the woman and leads us into the two-bedroom villa. Our bags are already waiting. “I’m here to take care of whatever you need, starting from unpacking to arranging for tours and dinner plans to…well, the sky’s the limit.” His grin widens.

As affable as the man is, I’m not really in the mood to listen to him or use his service. I’m not here to relax and laze around on the beach.

“Thank you,” I say. “My friend and I are exhausted from our trip, so if you don’t mind, we’ll like to just chill for a couple of hours.”

“Certainly, sir. If you need anything, just pick up the phone and dial zero.”

Nodding, I hand the man a hundred-dollar bill—a prepayment not just for excellence, but discretion as well.

Antoine flicks an index finger left and right and speaks before Manuel can leave. “I noticed that there are villas on both sides of ours.”

“Yes. But only one is occupied at the moment. A very sweet American lady.” Manuel smiles. “I saw her a couple of times on the beach.”

“Neat. It’s always nice to run into someone from your own country when you’re traveling.”

I almost snort. Antoine isn’t at all big on running into people on vacation. His idea of heaven is a desert island with a hot, willing woman, great food and lots of booze.

“Unfortunately, most guests are keeping to themselves in the rooms or in the bars today.” Manuel’s dark eyes swing upward. “Really unfortunate weather. I’m sorry you arrived in the middle of it.”

“Where are the bars?” I ask quickly. Elizabeth loves to drink. If she can’t go to the beach, she’s likely to hit one of them.

“Let me show you on the map.” A few minutes later, Manuel leaves, having pointed out all the places we can get alcohol on the resort property.

“I’m going to check out the bars,” I say.

“Do you want me to look with you?” Antoine asks.

“No.” I inhale, girding my loins. “I can handle it.”

“Good luck. She seems like such a gentle soul. She’ll listen to you.”

My throat tight, I nod, then take off, grabbing one of the complimentary umbrellas from the coat closet. Although the umbrella’s sizable, it proves worthless in this kind of storm. Bursts of strong wind drive water sideways from all directions, and I’m soaked from chest down within minutes.

Giving up, I fold the umbrella. I’m instantly drenched, but I couldn’t care less.

The resort has five bars, spread around. One of them is a swim-up bar, which is, of course, closed. The other four are busy, but I don’t see Elizabeth in any of them. The bartenders also confirm they haven’t seen her today.

Is she staying in?

The villa comes with a well-stocked bar. It’s possible.

I head back, braving the increasingly fearsome wind. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and I grimace. It’s going to get worse before it gets better.

After almost ten minutes at a brisk pace, I pass the spa. I step in to see if she’s there—just in case—but the receptionist says she’s not. Disappointed and annoyed I can’t locate her, I leave and walk faster. Soon I find myself in front of the entrance to her villa. I ring and wait, but nobody answers.

Is she napping? No. She always struggled to fall asleep. Has she somehow seen me from one of the windows and decided to ignore me? It’s a possibility.

I walk the fence around her villa. It reaches all the way to the beach. All the units have direct access to the beach, but for security, all the fences come with gates that lock automatically.

The sight of her gate propped open causes me to frown. She couldn’t have gone to the beach, not in this horrendous weather. Then I start to wonder…

She has her share of stalkers and sociopaths. One of them sent her a vacuum-sealed puppy not too long ago.

Dread accelerates my heartbeat. I push the gate out of the way and walk inside to the private plunge-pool area. “Elizabeth!”

Nothing.

Elizabeth!” I call out louder.

Still nothing.

Putting my hands above my eyes, I stick my face against the glass panes on the huge French door leading to her living room and peer inside. I don’t see any sign of her.

I pull out my phone and call Antoine.

“Already done talking?” he says, his voice somewhere between disbelief and sympathy.

“No. I can’t find her anywhere. Already been to all the bars, the spa…her villa. Nobody saw her. Nobody!” I plunge my hand into my hair and clench hard. “The gate to the beach was left open, though.”

“She went to the beach in this weather?” I can practically hear his jaw drop.

“I don’t know.”

“Is she a strong swimmer?”

“She can swim, but the sea is awfully rough.” I eye the huge waves pounding against the sand. There’s no way Elizabeth’s crazy enough to swim in that kind of water. “I’m gonna search the beach just in case.” I’m praying she isn’t in the water.

“If you take the beach to your right as you step outside, I’ll take the opposite. It’ll make the search go faster.”

“Thanks.”

I hang up and walk out. The dress shoes I’m wearing aren’t conducive to moving fast across soggy sand, so I toe them off, along with my socks, leaving them propped against her fence.

I start jogging. The gust blows in from my left, and rain hits me hard, some of the water dripping into my ear. Everything around me is hazy from the torrential downpour, and I swear under my breath.

No matter what, Elizabeth isn’t suicidal or stupid. Maybe she found shelter in one of the stores. Maybe she’s watching the stormy sea from under a palm tree or something. There’s no way she went anywhere close to the water.

“Elizabeth!” I yell. “Elizabeth!

The stormy wind swallows my words, no matter how loudly I cry. Frustration bubbles in my chest. God damn it. What I wouldn’t give for a better weather than this…

After what feels like an eternity of moving along the beach, I spot a man dragging someone along the sand, maybe some ten yards ahead. The unconscious person is female, her blue wrap dress more or less transparent. Something about her clothes reminds me of Elizabeth’s from Hawaii. I start to run toward the two, just in case. Maybe she did get swept up by the ocean, and the good Samaritan pulled her out.

The other man’s head snaps up, his gaze swiveling in my direction. The visibility’s still poor, but something about him feels vaguely familiar.

He starts hauling her away faster. Fuck. That’s no good Samaritan.

My insides encased in ice, I run as quickly as I can. Wet, soft sand sinks underneath my bare feet, slowing me down. That motherfucker has to be one of her stalkers—maybe even the one who sent her the puppy. I try to get a good look at him, so I can identify him and throw him in jail, where he belongs.

Something green and brown suddenly smacks me in the face, making my eyes tear. Crying out, I stumble backward, then put a hand over my stinging forehead and nose. A palm tree branch rolls on the ground at my feet, then flips away in the wind. Grit and sand get into my eyes, and I rub them roughly with impatience.

When I blink a couple of times to refocus, my vision is way too blurry. Shit. I’ve lost my contacts, and I’m not going to find them.

Fuck this. Identifying the perp is secondary. I need to get Elizabeth away from that psycho.

He drags her behind some large black rocks. Then I see that he’s hidden a sea kayak there. What the hell? He can’t use that in this weather.

Apparently the asshole disagrees. He dumps Elizabeth behind him on the kayak, her body folding weightlessly. He starts maneuvering his paddle, trying to get away. But nothing can best the terrible rage of the stormy sea.

A particularly large and powerful wave arches, barreling down toward the beach.

My heart sticks in my throat as the wave breaks over Elizabeth.

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The Billionaire’s Claim: Redemption Teaser 3

The Billionaire's Claim: Redemption Teaser 3

Only one week to go!

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The Billionaire’s Claim: Redemption Teaser 2

The Billionaire's Claim: Redemption Teaser 2

Coming on June 12!

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