“4.5 Stars! This book had me ALL in my feelings.” —Goodreader Reviewer on A Taste of Passion
Author Chloe Blake is back
another Deliciously Dechamps novel, A TASTE OF PASSION. Featuring exotic
locations, opposites attract romance with a sexy, millionaire hero you’ll want
to run away and find your own French vineyard. Fans of Brenda Jackson and A PRINCESS
THEORY by Alyssa Cole will devour this sensual yet humorous read.
The exquisite night Maya North spends with a seductive stranger is the perfect prelude to her new life in Paris as co-owner of a French vineyard. Until she discovers that her mystery lover is her new business partner, Nicolas Rayo—and he’s trying to buy her out. That’s when the LA corporate consultant decides it’s war—even if her heart says Nic’s the one…
Excerpt
Copyright @ 2019 Harlequin, Chloe Blake
Jesus, Nic thought as he took the elevator
down to the basement. His powerful attraction to the American came as a
surprise to him; the minute she’d taken his hand in the elevator he’d had an
instant hard-on.
Sex with guests was not good PR for the hotel.
He had a serious conversation with himself as he walked into the wine
cellar—think of the Yelp reviews. But his next thought had to do with which
wine she would enjoy and what her red lips would look like closing over the
glass. Not exactly the voice of reason he was trying to sustain.
He moved to the reds and chose a fruity Loire
Valley Pinot Noir that would look beautiful against her red mouth. He’d get one
of the porters to take it up, not trusting himself to knock on her door again.
There had been a moment where he was hoping
she would invite him in, offer him something to drink from the mini-bar, kiss
him. He ran a hand over his mouth and made his way back to the first floor,
intent on finding someone in the kitchen to take the wine to her room.
The music pumped louder as more and more
people filed into the lobby, waving their masks and drinks in the air. A crush,
she’d called it. That was how he felt as he pushed through to the back of the
bar and skirted in between the bartenders to find the good crystal. One perfect
sparkling glass for the goddess upstairs. He heard a glass break across the
room—the cleanup was going to be ridiculous.
Nic moved from the bar, allowing the
bartenders their much-needed space, and waved over a young porter. “Nic?” he
thought he heard mixed into the music. Couldn’t be—then again, his name, louder
this time. A woman’s voice, one he recognized. Nic brought the porter close so
he could hear him. “Is there a redheaded woman behind me calling my name? Don’t
be obvious.”
“Oui, patron.”
Daphne. Merde. “Never mind,” he said to the
porter. “I’ll take it myself.”
Nic took the private elevator to eleven,
thinking more about getting away from Daphne than what he would say to
Mademoiselle North. What had she said her name was again? God, he was horrible
with names. He got to her door and hesitated, wondering if he looked creepy or
desperate, realizing the longer he talked to himself outside her door, the more
creepy and desperate he looked. He knocked lightly, then more forcefully when
no one answered.
“Mademoiselle?”he yelled out. The lock turned
and there she was again in her bare feet, still wearing the strappy dress that
accentuated her body. Her eyes widened and she smiled. Breathtaking. He held up
the bottle of wine and a single glass. “As promised.”
Her surprised gaze touched the bottle, then
his eyes. She seemed to debate for a moment, then stepped back. “Come in. Maybe
you can open it for me?”
“Of course.” The moment he stepped inside, she
closed the door and came toward him, so close he could smell the vanilla scent
of her hair. Then she kissed him, sweetly at first, her lips testing his, then
bolder, their mouths fusing perfectly. She pulled back slowly, his lips
following before he let hers go. There was a wicked gleam in her eye.
“I told myself I would do that the next time I
saw you,” she whispered.
He licked his lips. “I’m happy you did.”
“Will you stay and have a drink with me?”
“I would love to,” he said, staring at her
mouth. He gave her the glass and moved to her small kitchen for the bottle
opener.
She inspected the crystal in the light. “You
only brought one.”
He popped the bottle with a graceful flick of
his wrist, then came toward her with a grin. “We can share.”
About Chloe Blake
Chloe Blake can be
found dreaming up stories while she is traveling the world, or just sitting on
her couch in Brooklyn, NY. When she is not writing sexy novels, she is at the
newest wine bar, taking random online classes, binge watching Netflix, or searching
for her next adventure. Chloe has published two erotic novels under the
pseudonym Chloe Blaque. Readers can find out more about Chloe and her books
from her website at www.chloeblakebooks.com.
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