Synopsis: A sexy category romance from Entangled's Brazen imprint...
She's the one girl he should never touch...
Cooper Grayson is supposed to hole up in a mountain cabin and protect his best friend's little sister from the paparazzi for a week. That's it. But Paris O'Connell isn't a kid anymore, and it's hard to remember this isstrictly business when she bats her big green eyes at him...then crashes through all his carefully placed boundaries.
Paris loves a challenge. And gorgeous Cooper Grayson is the most dangerous challenge she's faced yet. He ignores the sizzling attraction that keeps her awake at nights, and he doesn't care about her fame or her contacts, only seeing her. When they finally kiss, Cooper leaves her bare. Exposed. His for the taking. And take he does...
For one incredibly hot week, Cooper fulfils her every fantasy. But when the real world crashes in, so does reality. And reality tells them there's no way a Hollywood star and a bad boy from the wrong side of town could ever have a future together...
Synopsis: Every good girl loves a very bad boy...
Scarlett Ashford needs a date for her father's wedding. Only she doesn't just need a guy in a suit—she needs a bodyguard. The only problem is that Jackson Grayson is big and gorgeous and way too sexy. So much so that Scarlett's tempted to let this hot bad boy ruin her oh-so-good reputation...
Jackson doesn't do relationships and he certainly doesn't sleep with clients. Yet he can't fight their inconvenient attraction, or how badly he wants Scarlett's warm and wicked curves against his body. He wants her. Now. Even if it's just for one night, and even if walking away the next morning isn't as easy as he thought.
Besides, one hot and incredibly intense night between a bad boy and a pampered princess could never turn into something real...could it?
About Christina Phillips
Christina Phillips is an ex-pat Brit who now lives in sunny Western Australia with her high school sweetheart and their family. She enjoys writing paranormal, historical and contemporary romance where the stories sizzle and the heroine brings her hero to his knees.
Christina is addicted to good coffee, expensive chocolate and bad boy heroes. She is also owned by three gorgeous cats who are convinced the universe revolves around their needs. They are not wrong.
EXCERPTS: Hold Me
Until Morning by Christina Phillips
He pulled open the
door and came face-to-face with Paris.
She raked her gaze
over him as if she’d never seen a guy wearing only a towel before. It didn’t
help that the towel barely covered his junk, or that her gaze snagged on his
groin as if she could see what was going on between his legs.
couldn’t, could she? Heat rolled through him. This hallway was too fucking
small for the both of them. He offered her what he hoped was a brotherly grin
and stepped out of her way.
“Uh,” she said, as
she stepped sideways at the exact same time he did. They ended up practically
toe-to-toe. “Sorry.” Her voice was breathless, but she didn’t attempt to move
again. Nor did he.
“It’s okay.” He
had no idea what was okay, or why she’d felt the need to say sorry in the first
place. Probably because he was having trouble thinking of anything but how much
he wanted to plunge his fingers through her hair and kiss her fucking
Back the hell off, Cooper. He’d crossed
the line once. He wouldn’t again.
What the hell?
“Runs hot and
cold.” She took a deep breath and he zeroed in on her breasts. Not that he
could see much, but what he could see looked great. He swallowed and dragged
his attention back to her face. Her lips were parted and her cheeks were pink.
His dick stood to
attention and he grabbed his towel before the damn thing dropped to the floor. She’s my best friend’s little sister. He
was supposed to be keeping her safe, not thinking of how she looked when she
He tried to focus
on their conversation if you could call it that. “Yeah. Fucking awful.” Truth
was he’d hardly noticed since he’d had a cold shower in any case. Not that it worked. He still damn well
“Better put it on
my to-do list.” Her voice was breathy.
He cleared his
throat. He’d never had a to-do list in his life, but right now he did, and
Paris was the only thing on it.
Stop thinking about her like that.
“I can take a look
at it in the morning if you want.”
She licked her
lips. He told himself he didn’t notice. “You’re kind of handy to have around,
No one had ever
told him that before. “I like fixing things.”
Her gaze slid from
his face to his chest. “You fixed my bike once.”
Her bike? His fist tightened around the
towel as he tried to make sense of her comment. “Oh, yeah.” He gave a pained
laughed. Shit, that hurt. “Couldn’t leave you crying in the gutter, could I?”
She looked up at
him again. Her eyes were all big and dark, and her lips were going to haunt his
“I used to pretend
you were my other brother.”
Well, fuck. That
told him. “You were always the little sister I never had.” But that was when
they were kids. They weren’t kids now, and he sure as hell didn’t look on her
as his sister anymore.
She let out a
ragged breath that sent shivers across his chest. He was going to have to get
away from her, while he could still think straight.
And then she ran
the tip of her finger over his pecs.
Don’t do that.
Don’t fucking stop.
Jesus, I’m losing my mind.
whisper killed whatever was left of his good sense, and with a growl he dug his
fingers into her hair and pulled her toward him.
She tasted just as
good as before, sweet and sexy all rolled into one, and when she wound her arms
around his neck he forgot about hanging onto the towel and gripped her ass
When he came up
for air she looked up at him, her hair all messy around her face. “I don’t
think of you as my brother anymore,” she said.
He shoved his
hands into his pockets and nodded across the street. “Want to stop off here?”
She barely glanced
at the coffee shop. “Sounds good.”
He found them a
table in the shade of a cottonwood and instead of sitting opposite her, sat
next to her. “We’re undercover, right?” he said, as he leaned in as though he
was about to kiss her.
fluttered, even though he was just doing it for show. “That’s right,” she
“So, if I do
this…” He casually slid his arm around her shoulders. “You’re not going to knee
me in the balls, are you?”
She flattened her
sweaty palms on her thighs and refused to peek where his balls resided.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Shit, she sounded as though her throat was congested.
A waitress came to
their table and flipped open her notepad. “What can I get you?” Her gaze
drifted past Paris and settled on Cooper. Her perfunctory smile brightened by
about a hundred watts. Paris bit her lip to stop herself from giggling. Cooper
appeared unaware of the interest he’d stirred.
“What do you want,
babe?” He offered her a wicked grin, daring her to respond in kind. She wanted
to, but suppose the waitress recognized her voice? She slid the laminated menu
across the table and jabbed her finger at the iced chocolate.
Cooper gave their
order. “Want anything to nibble on?” His voice dripped with false innocence.
She shook her head and let out a relieved breath when the waitress finally
“I don’t think we
raised any suspicions.” He wound a length of her wig around his finger. She
couldn’t feel a thing. Now, if only he was doing that to her real hair. She tried, without much
conviction, to shove that thought aside.
He’s only doing it for show.Right?
interested in me at all.” Since he was clearly comfortable with the whole
playacting aspect of their outing, she shifted closer to him on the bench until
their thighs touched. She’d have never guessed she was into masochism before,
but why else was she torturing herself this way? “She couldn’t take her eyes
off you, though.”
Was it her
imagination or did his hold around her shoulders tighten?
She laughed, and
then slapped her hand across her mouth. Since nobody glanced their way, she
relaxed and patted his denim covered thigh in what she hoped was a
condescending manner. Was that even
“I don’t get
jealous, bunny.” God, his muscles were rock hard.
He tugged her
closer. That definitely wasn’t her imagination—and had she really left her hand
on his thigh? Her fingers twitched, but she still didn’t move her hand. It
wasn’t as though she was pushing boundaries. After all, her hand was nearer his
knee than his balls.
afternoon Paris abandoned her tablet, where she’d been checking her Facebook
account, and peered through her bedroom window. After a huge lunch, Cooper had
managed to persuade her brother to give him a hand in clearing the back yard.
He’d found a surprising variety of tools in the old garden shed, and Scott’s
horrified protests at getting his hands dirty hadn’t cut it with Cooper.
It was amazing how
much better the yard looked now that it wasn’t a jungle of weeds. She repeated
that thought a couple of times as an excuse to keep on peeking out through the
window, behind the cover of the drapes. But the truth was the sight of Cooper
wearing nothing but boots, jeans and a battered old cowboy hat was mesmeric. Is
it hot in here or what?
She took a deep
breath. She’d never spied on a guy like this before. Maybe she’d take them out
a cold drink. She went to the kitchen and grabbed a beer and a couple of cans
from the fridge.
Cooper took the
bottle of beer from her with a grin that sent her stomach into a free fall.
Scott scowled at the can of soda she offered him. “What the hell?”
enough,” she said, trying not to stare at the way Cooper’s muscles rippled as
he tipped his head back and swallowed his beer. “You’re driving later.”
something under his breath, but took the soda. That was one thing she’d say for
her brother. He never argued with her when it came to alcohol. She guessed her
problems when she was younger had affected him more than he’d admit. “You could
invite me to stay over.”
She popped the tab
on her own soda. “You want to sleep with Cooper tonight? Be my guest.” Then she
took a quick drink so her brother wouldn’t guess where her thoughts had
Cooper wasn’t going to happen.
“I don’t share my
bed with anyone.” Cooper wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and appeared
to be avoiding looking her way. “Not even you, Scott.”
“When you spend
the whole night with someone let me know, and we’ll get wasted to celebrate.”
Scott turned to her. “You’re a girl,” he said, which was amazingly observant of
him. “Would you give a guy a second chance if he loved you and left you as soon
as he could?”
She had the crazy
urge to giggle. She coughed and mock frowned at Cooper, who looked as though
he’d like to break Scott’s neck. “Is that what you do, then?”
“No.” He ground
the word between his teeth.
“Don’t give me
that bullshit.” Scott punched him on the arm. “This is only Paris.”
This is only Paris. That kind of annoyed
her. “I don’t know why you want my opinion. You seem pretty sure you know what
girls like. You’re such a man whore.”
Scott toasted her
with his soda. He obviously took her insult as a compliment. “I never leave
before morning—and the ladies love it.”
She made a gagging
sound. “You’re disgusting.”
“He’s always been
disgusting,” Cooper said. “You’ve only just noticed?”
“Don’t change the
subject,” Scott said. “We were talking about you and the service you offer.”
“I’ve never had
She really didn’t
mean to, but couldn’t help glancing at him. Their gazes clashed.
What would Scott do if she backed up
She hastily tore
her gaze from him and took a long drink to cool herself down. She had no idea
what Scott would do, and it didn’t matter because he was never going to find
out that she, at least, would give him a five star rating when it came to being
serviced by Cooper.
“You haven’t had any
complaints because you don’t hang around long enough afterwards to hear any.”
“That’s not the
reason I don’t get complaints.”
Too right it
wasn’t. Although, now that she came to think about it, his reaction afterwards had kind of sucked. Maybe
that’s what Scott was getting at. Not that she was going to agree with him.
Or maybe it’s only with me that he acted so
weird? If she hadn’t thrown herself in his arms and practically begged for
it, would he even have kissed her?
As the door
opened, panic hit her. Nobody ever saw her first thing in the morning, before
she’d even had time to wipe the sleep from her eyes. Image was everything.
She’d had that drummed into her from the moment she’d signed her first contract
at the age of twelve. Even Hudson fucking Bartholomew, the supposed love of her
life, had only ever seen her once before she’d had the chance to make herself
The look on his
face had been more than enough to convince her that guys simply didn’t want to
see her looking like her normal rumpled self. Even after spending the night
with her. Even if they supposedly loved
her more than life itself, all they really wanted was the image.
It was too late to
stop Cooper coming in now. She tugged the sheet up to her chin. She wasn’t sure
why. The sleeveless cotton top she wore covered a lot more than some of the
skimpy things she’d had to wear as Lola over the last couple of years, and
unless she pulled the sheet over her head she hadn’t exactly hidden herself.
Cooper entered the
room carrying a tray. He’d brought her breakfast in bed? Seriously?
With a flourish he
placed the tray across her lap. There was a plate of pancakes, a quarter glass
of orange juice and—thank God—a mug of coffee.
“There was no
juicer,” he said as he sat at the end of her bed as if this was a perfectly
normal morning for them both. “I had to hand-squeeze those oranges.”
She looked back
down at the glass before he could see the stunned disbelief in her eyes. She
hadn’t thought twice when he’d bought the bag of oranges yesterday. He’d bought
them so she could have freshly squeezed orange juice?
He really was
taking his bodyguard duties above and beyond.
She cleared her
throat. “I didn’t know you could cook.” He was built, he was sexy as hell, and he could cook. Did he have a
“Yeah, I can
cook.” He sounded amused that she might think otherwise. Would he find it funny
when he discovered she didn’t have a clue when it came to the kitchen? They’d
ordered takeout yesterday and brought it home to eat.
She’d planned to survive on fruit and salad. He didn’t look as though he could
survive on salad.
The aroma of the coffee made her fingers twitch. She couldn’t live without her
coffee and had brought her own machine with her. “Aren’t you having any?”
He grinned. His
hair looked damp and a shower fresh scent vied with the coffee for her
attention. What time had he gotten up?
He looked good
enough to eat. She dragged her fingers through her hair again, and by the feel
of things she had a horrific case of bedhead. Inside she cringed—until she
forcibly reminded herself that he was highly unlikely to take a photo of her
looking like a witch and sell it to the highest bidder.
Of course he won’t. He was Scott’s best
friend. Even so…
eaten. I thought I’d let you sleep in for a bit.”
He called seven
a.m. on a non-work day sleeping in? With difficulty, she untangled her
fingers from her hair and attempted to find some dignity. “Thank you.”
She waited for him
to take the hint and leave. Instead, he leaned back against the brass rails at
the foot of her bed. Did he intend to watch her eat? Nerves spiked in the pit
of her stomach as she picked up her cup and took a reviving gulp of coffee.
She peered at him
over her steaming cup and tried to unscramble her brain. She looked hideous
first thing in the morning, but this didn’t appear to bother him. Of course,
she hadn’t just spent the night with him, which might account for it. On the
other hand, there was a definite spark between them, which meant he found her
At least, he’d
found her hot yesterday when he’d brought her luggage in. She refused to let
her gaze slip southwards now. Not that she’d see anything in any case, given
the way he was sitting.
She squeezed her
eyes shut and almost managed to convince herself the heat coursing through her
was due entirely to the coffee flooding her system and absolutely nothing to do
with Cooper Grayson and his dimple.
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