All He Needs by C.C. Gibbs (Forever Trade Paperback; 9781455528332; $12.00)
Neither Kate nor Dominic intended for their affair to be more than casual. The pleasure they found together was supposed to be fleeting, but while neither is willing to admit it-the passion between them is something they both desperately need. Caught in a tumultuous battle with his emotions, Dominic can't fight he desires... or stay away from Kate. And while Kate knows that being with Dominic means giving up some of her long held control, letting go never felt so right.
About the Author
C.C. Gibbs is the pen name of a New York Times bestselling author. She lives in the Midwest, at times in Northern California, is married with three children and considers the life of a writer the best of all possible worlds. Bringing characters to life allows her imagination full rein, while the creative process offers fascinating glimpses into the machinery of the mind. And last but not least, researching anything, but particularly a book like ALL HE DESIRES--thank you Google--is great fun!
Social Media Links:
Buy Links for ALL HE NEEDS (Book #2 in the All or Nothing Trilogy):
Buy Links for ALL HE WANTS (Book #1 in the All or Nothing Trilogy):
A Q&A unpublished
teaser with Dominic Knight
Max Roche, Dominic’s ADC
and right hand man, shut the door behind him as he entered Dominic’s Paris
office. “The Rolling Stone reporter’s here and she looks as though she’s
interested in more than an interview. Short skirt, thigh high boots, make up
for a photo shoot and unless I miss my guess, a Brazilian wax job just in case
she gets lucky.”
“Great,” Dominic grumbled.
“And I have to be polite.”
“If you want that nice puff
piece on your new record label acquisition, you do.” Max smiled faintly. “It’s not as though you
haven’t been turning down women since you left Hong Kong. One more--what the
hell. You’ve had plenty of practice.”
Dominic lifted one brow.
“Keeping track?”
Max shrugged. “How could I
not? You’ve been a fucking monk.”
No way he was going to
discuss his personal feelings. Dominic nodded. “Okay, show her—what’s her
name?”
“Miss Lacey Milano.”
Dominic’s eyes widened
briefly. “Tell me she’s not a stripper.”
“Christ no. Ivy league,
wasp family, trust fund.”
“Shit, maybe that’s worse.”
Dominic sighed. “But all for a good cause, right?”
“If you want those fine old
sound tracks to get out in the world, who better than Rolling Stone for promo.”
“Gotcha. But interrupt me
in fifteen minutes with a phone call I have to take. In the meantime I’ll try to
keep her on topic.”
“That shouldn’t be too
hard. This music is a passion of yours.”
“Damn right.” Dominic
nodded. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Max escorted the reporter
into Dominic’s office, made introductions, then left, closing the door softly
behind him.
It wasn’t as though Dominic
hadn’t seen hundreds of women approach him much like Miss Milano. Long-legged
stride to show off her legs, small hip swing in invitation, a smile that was
offering more than a greeting—and that little flick of her hand to brush her
long blonde hair over her shoulder. Seriously. Familiar as hell.
But his voice was bland and
his smile polite as he said, “How nice to meet you, Miss Milano. Max tells me
you’re one of Rolling Stone’s prominent contributing editors. I’m honored.” He indicated a black leather
chair across the desk from him. “Please make yourself comfortable.”
“The honor’s all mine, Mr.
Knight.”
Jesus, was that a
wink? “Dominic, please,” he said, his
face expressionless.
“In that case, Dominic,
call me Lacey.” She pronounced his name
very, very softly.
Fuck. She didn’t waste any
time. “I’m excited about the amazing array of artists we’ll be re-introducing
to the world,” Dominic said, staying on topic. “I hope you had a chance to
listen to at least some of the tracks.” Dominic’s company had remastered and
restored 800 tracks of the pre-1930 defining generation of blues and jazz
artists. It was an act of love on Dominic’s part.
“Of course. You needn’t
worry, I’ll write an elaborate tribute to both you and the artists you’ve
preserved. But I’d rather talk about you and your many, global businesses.” She
smiled sweetly. “I’ve done my research.”
“I understand. Ask away.”
He never said no, nor did he ever answer definitely. His life wasn’t for public
consumption.
“When did you make your
first million?”
If he had a dime for every
time he’d been asked that question, he could retire. But his voice was mild
when he replied. “If you did your research you know I inherited my uncle’s
fortune when I was sixteen. But I made my own first million day trading while I
was still in high school.”
“Then you bought a small
software start up.”
He smiled. “Start ups are
practically a way of life in the Bay Area.”
“But everyone doesn’t pick
the right ones.”
“I was lucky.”
“So modest.”
He shrugged. “A certain
amount of luck is involved in building a large enterprise. I’ve had my share.”
“I was wondering if your
wife was involved in your businesses? From my research, it’s clear that she was
a formidable fund raiser for any number of charities. You met on Everest,
didn’t you?”
He frowned slightly. “I
don’t talk about my private life.”
“Forgive me, but the world
at large certainly talks about it.” She
slowly crossed her legs. “You have a reputation that isn’t exclusively about
business.”
“Much exaggerated,” Dominic
smoothly replied, giving Max points for his Brazilian comment. Miss Milano
wasn’t wearing panties. “Rumor and gossip sell magazines and tabloids. I ignore
them.”
“Including the two women
who filed paternity suits against you? Or was it three?”
Bitch. But his smile
couldn’t have been improved on by angels on high. “They all lost in court as
you know. My fortune attracts frivolous law suits. There’ll be more.”
“I do apologize.” She
dipped her head in deference. “I hope I haven’t angered you. Some men take
offense at assertive women.” She looked
at him with wide-eyed innocence. “I’m going to blame my editor for that last
question.”
“Don’t worry. I’m hard to
offend.” He tapped the back of the hand resting on his desk with his index
finger. “Thick skin.”
Oh God, such large lovely
hands and long, slender fingers. She took a deep breath.
He could see it coming.
“Would you have time for a
drink with me?”
Her words came out in a wild
rush.
His smile was instant. “Certainly.” Dominic rose from his chair. “What would you
like?”
“Vodka. Two ice cubes. Your
distillery if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” he said, moving
toward the drinks table across the room. “You certainly have done your
research. That’s a very new acquisition.”
“I’ve read just ‘everything’
about you. You’re a fascinating man.”
“Not really. I just work,
sleep, then work some more.” He knew
he’d made a mistake using the word, sleep, because he immediately heard her
soft foot fall on the carpet and when next she spoke, she was right behind him.
“Might I request a small
portion of your sleep time,” she said, breathy and low, running her hand up his
back. “I promise to leave whenever you wish.”
He dropped two ice cubes
into her glass, slowly turned, held the glass out to her and smiled, “Why don’t
we talk about it over drinks.”
Then Max walked in
precisely on time, Dominic relaxed and knew he’d made one less enemy.
“Sorry, Dominic,” Max said.
“But Yu Chung is insisting on talking with you. I told him you were busy and he
told me to go to hell.” Max managed to
look frazzled, his brow knotted, his mouth twitching. “He’s bitching about some
wording on the contract. And apparently only you can change it for him.”
“I’m so sorry, Lacey.”
Dominic deliberately used her first name, as though they were friends. “But
we’re working on a copper mine venture with the Chinese in Afghanistan and
nothing’s going right.” He glanced at Max. “Is it Max? We’ve been fucked from
the beginning.”
“You got that right.” Max
turned to Lacey, his mouth set in a grim line. “I told Dominic to pull out of
the deal, but he won’t.”
Dominic gave her a rueful
look. “I do apologize, but I have a few billion at stake here. It’s been a
pleasure,” he said, pleasantly, then swung his gaze to Max. “Which conference
room?”
“The big screen. You get to
see a giant-size Yu Chung turn red.”
Dominic nodded and without
another word left his office.
He softly swore as he
strode down the hall, swore some more as he took refuge in the conference room
and dropped into a chair. What the fuck? Since when did he turn down a piece of
ass? One that even might have been a good business decision?
Sliding lower in his chair,
he scowled because he knew damned well why he’d turned it down, why he wasn’t
sleeping, why he was pissed all the time.
Miss Katherine Hart had
totally fucked up his life.
No comments:
Post a Comment