Title: After the Island (Seven Winds Book 1)
Author: Katy Ames
Genre: Contemporary Romance / Women’s Fiction
“Rules or no rules, Sadie, once our lips touched there was no going back. Not for me. Not ever.”
Charming. Brilliant. Powerful. Jack Avery is Sadie’s biggest client and he’s wanted her since the first time she stepped into his office. But for four years he’s managed to conceal every lustful thought, and hide every lurid look. Because no matter how much Jack wants Sadie, any relationship between them is the definition of complicated.
Intelligent. Driven. Successful. Sadie Carter’s event planning career is thriving and she’s not about to let anything – or anyone – distract her. Not even the darkly handsome man who can make her pulse race with a lingering look or breath catch with a simple handshake.
Until one night, one kiss, changes everything.
Professionally, Sadie is at the top of her game. But, personally, there is no way she could ever plan for a man like Jack.
So when a work trip to the Caribbean turns into a week in paradise, they’re forced to choose: Pursue a passion that ignites under the tropical night sky? Or risk destroying everything they’ve ever worked for by staying together after the island?
Sadie’s pulse had returned to its regular pace after her dash across the hotel. But even as she kept her eyes casually fixed on Jack’s, she realized that her hand was still clasped in his. As the heat from his broad palm and strong fingers seeped in and spread up her arm, Sadie’s heart began to race for an entirely different reason. Perhaps Jack caught a glimpse of discomfort on her face. Or felt the subtle shiver that raced across her fingers. Either way, he released her hand and took a step back, his smile easy, charming.
Sadie swallowed, hoping her voice would come out at a normal octave. “I’m afraid the hotel is putting the final touches on your room and you won’t be able to check in yet.” She cast a glance back at the front desk clerk who was industriously pounding away on the computer. “I’ve given them fifteen minutes to rectify the situation. In the meantime, I’d be happy to give you a quick tour of the property, show you where everything is taking place over the next few days.”
Jack shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit pants and rocked back on his heels. “What a kind offer, Sadie. And though I’m sure you’d make a charming tour guide, I see some of my colleagues in the bar. A Scotch and a seat by one of those fireplaces is exactly what I need after today’s trip.”
“Of course, Mr. Avery. Please….” Sadie let her voice drop off as she gestured towards the bar. A bizarre motion, she realized, as if she was granting him permission to join his colleagues. But if Jack found it odd, he made no sign of it. Instead, he paused while he pulled a small square of paper from his wallet, scribbled something on the back, and handed it over to her.
Sadie plucked the paper from his fingers, careful not to brush his skin with hers. If she’d been less distracted she’d have realized it was a business card before staring at it for a second. But with her brain still skittering over her odd reaction to his handshake, she looked blankly between the card and his face several times before he took pity on her.
“My cell phone number.” Still, Sadie’s face remained blank. “If you pass it along to the front desk they can just call or text. When my room is ready.”
Sadie closed her eyes, silently cursing her stupidity. And there she stood, mute, a blush creeping up her neck as she mentally berated herself for being an idiot in front of one of her clients.
“Certainly, Mr. Avery. I’ll be sure they contact you as soon as your room is ready.” Trying to regain some credibility, Sadie continued, “If you’d like me to bring you the keys just let the front desk know when they call. They have my number. I’d be happy to save you a trip back to the lobby. I can deliver the keys to you at the bar.”
“That won’t be necessary, Ms. Carter. I’m perfectly capable of getting into my own room. I’m sure you have far better things to do than babysit me.” Catching the eye of one of his colleagues, Jack gave a brisk wave and headed their way. But as he passed Sadie he paused, dropping his head so that his mouth was inches from her ear. “Don’t worry, Ms. Carter. I’m a big boy. I’m capable of taking care of all sorts of things.”
Amazon + Kindle Unlimited: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0734HPBB8
Katy Ames loves a good story. Whether through blogs, books, or live events, she’s been an avid story teller her entire career.
With a bachelor’s in English Literature, Katy is happiest when curled up on her favorite sofa with a captivating read, whether it’s the Romantic poets or contemporary romance. A good glass of bourbon doesn’t hurt, either.
Katy lives with her husband and son in Washington, D.C. When she’s not writing or reading, she’s very enthusiastic about fancy cheese, late nights & lazy mornings. Only two of which she gets to enjoy on a regular basis.
Katy is a member of both the Romance Writers of America and the Washington Romance Writers.
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Title: After the Fall (Seven Winds Book 2)
Author: Katy Ames
Genre: Contemporary Romance / Women’s Fiction
If there was one man in the world Grace Fitzgerald never wanted to see again, it was Mark Donovan.
Sinfully handsome, famously flirtatious, unerringly cocky. Paragon of men. Archetype of entitled a**holes. As a guest at her luxury hotel, Mark was impossible.
As the new owner of her hotel, 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, how tempting his fingers were against her skin.
But for all of the challenges that Mark and Grace face working together, nothing can prepare them for the undeniable attraction that flares every time they battle for control. Or the secrets that linger in the luxury of the Seven Winds Resort.
With no way of escaping each other or their pasts, can they possibly survive life on the island after they fall?
A loud crack split the air beneath her.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Grace ran down to the lower level. Whatever she’d expected to find on the ground floor of the resort’s most expensive villa, this wasn’t it.
There, sprawled on the ground, eyes closed, lips skewed in an off-kilter smile, wearing nothing more than a wrinkled pair of shorts, was Mark Donovan, co-founder and CEO of D&A International. Sinfully handsome, wildly successful, obscenely wealthy, unerringly cocky, undeniably brilliant, famously flirtatious. And, Grace was horrified to realize, unconscious and sporting a wicked cut above one eyebrow.
“Oh, no, no.” Grace rushed towards him and crouched over Mr. Donovan’s motionless form, her hands fluttering just above his face. Get a grip, Grace. Check to see if he’s breathing, check to make sure nothing is blocking his airways. She focused with a deep breath and shifted her brain to autopilot.
Grace’s pulse calmed substantially when she saw Mr. Donovan’s chest rise in a steady, heavy breath. Definitely not dead. Thank the good Lord. Running an assessing glance across his head and body, Grace confirmed that other than the bruise blossoming beneath the cut on his head, Mark appeared to be perfectly fine. Though unconscious.
An incoherent mumble broke free of his lips, followed by a muffled snore. Grace amended that last part. Not unconscious. Asleep.
Slumping back, Grace rearranged herself so she could sit more comfortably on the floor, her eyes fixed on her unwitting patient. Mark was stretched out and motionless, giving Grace an unparalleled view of his starkly beautiful face and meticulously sculpted body. His eyes were closed and Grace’s gaze wandered across the sharp ridges of his cheekbones and refined slope of his nose, both of which drew her attention down toward his wide, generous mouth, his lips parted, soft puffs of air brushing the strong, supple lines on every exhale.
Determined to ignore her sudden impulse to taste those lips, Grace shifted her eyes away. But a particularly deep inhale dragged her back, this time her attention landing on the long planes of his broad chest, light wisps of blond hair dusting the hard curves that came to an abrupt halt against the repetitive ridges of his abdomen.
Grace, you need to stop staring. Seriously. Stop staring!
But Grace’s eyes had a mind of their own. As Mark breathed, the play of the muscles across his stomach and sides was hypotonic, the slopes and dips elegantly formed, exquisitely defined. Of its own volition, Grace’s tongue slipped across her lower lip as she caught the hint of dark ink dancing across the shadow of one hipbone.
God help her, he was beautiful. Every delicious detail all the more enticing at that precise moment because his eyes weren’t flashing in disdain. And his voice wasn’t dripping with irritation. Mark Donovan, silent and still, was perfect.
Awake and entitled? Not so much.
“Typically, I expect a woman to buy me one drink, at least, before she gets to enjoy such an up-close and personal view.”
Grace squeaked in surprise and tried to scramble back, but Mark anchored one of her wrists in a warm, inflexible grasp.
“You had an accident. I found you on the floor. I was making sure you weren’t injured.”
Confusion, then recollection flashed in the deep indigo of his eyes. Pressing his free hand to the bump on his forehead, he cocked his lips into a crooked grin. “From what I can tell, my injuries are up here. Not”—he nodded in the direction of his crotch—“down there.”