Sexy Men with Suzanne Rock



Protecting His Interests Book Description

What if the roles in the movie Pretty Woman got switched?

After spending months undercover at a high-end escort service, Special Agent Gabriel Ferreira hits a dead end in his case. Then a gorgeous art restorer picks him as her date, and his luck changes in more ways than one. 

Gabe won’t let Scarlett Bishop come between him and his goal of taking down Miami’s newest serial killer, no matter how great she is in bed. Unfortunately, the more he tries to distance himself from the sexy redhead, the more tangled up she becomes in his investigation. Now she has a target on her back, and he must figure out her connection to the killer and keep her safe at the same time. Every second he spends with the sarcastic beauty, he becomes more infatuated. Now if only he can keep his hands off of Scarlett’s gorgeous body and concentrate on his mission before they both become pawns in the killer’s dangerous game.


Protecting His Interests by Suzanne Rock

 

            The alarm next to the bed went off. Scarlett groaned, turned and slapped her hand on one of the buttons on top.

“What time is it?” I asked.

She let out a helpless groan. “Too early.” She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Let me shower first.”

How could she have so much energy? There was one way to fix that . . . I grabbed her arm as she tried to get out of bed. “Kiss me first.”

She smiled and pulled her arm from my grasp. “Gabe, I really don’t have time for this. It’s the first day of the art show.”

“So?” I plastered on my most innocent expression. “It’s just one kiss.”

“I know you. It’s never just one kiss.” She gave me a quick kiss on the nose and scooted away before I could grab her again. “Later.”

“Scarlett—”

“I have an exhibit to put up. Besides, now that I know I have you for the entire week, we can take our time.”

I frowned. This wasn’t what I had in mind when we had made our agreement last night. In between our lovemaking, Scarlett had brought up Bridget’s private showing at the end of the week. She didn’t think she’d get in there without me on her arm. I agreed and suggested making up some excuse about a change of plans to explain my hanging around. Seeing us together might take some of the heat off her with the murder investigation, and I could make her look good in front of investors. Everything was set. I just had to run it by my “boss” at the escort agency for confirmation.

“Let that woman do it,” I said.

She frowned. “That woman?”

“The one I saw the night we met. Your assistant.”

“Violet?” She seemed to consider my words for a moment before responding. “If this was any other show I would.” She put on her robe and smiled. “Believe me, it’s tempting, but I need to be there to make sure things go smoothly. Artists are counting on me.” She fluffed her long hair out of her robe, a careless gesture that caused a stirring in my lower abdomen. “Besides, it’s not just the exhibit. I’m on panels and have meetings, too.”

“You sound busy.” I propped my head up on my hand and watched her move about the room. “What will I be doing during all of this?” Besides watching you and remembering how wonderful you were last night.

She considered me a moment before responding. “I don’t know.”

I raised my brows. “You don’t know?” Was she already giving me the boot? She couldn’t. I needed her to take me to that art show. Everyone who was at the party last night would be there. It would be the best time to question people about Henri and the events at the Morales estate.

She tilted her head to the side. “What do escorts do during the day?”

A red flag went off in my head, and I looked away, pretending to think. “I . . . I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Do you take classes, or have a day job?”

I glanced at her inquisitive stare. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged and tried to look nonchalant, but I could see that her eyes shone bright with questions. “You just seemed to know a lot about dead bodies yesterday. Then there was police procedure, and hiding from the cops . . .” She held my gaze. “It just seemed as if you knew more than the casual gigolo.”

Scarlett had always been smart, and I silently cursed at my bad luck. I didn’t want to lie to her, but I didn’t want to blow my cover, either.

“I guess I do know more,” I hedged.

“Why?”

“Military training,” I said, falling back on my online profile.

“That’s right, you had gone into the military after high school.” She flashed me a suspicious look.

“Yeah.”

“Where did you go?”

“Basic training.”

“And then?”

“Afghanistan.”

She stared at me for a moment, then nodded. “Must have been hot.”

“Hot?” I asked as she strode toward the bathroom door.

“In the desert,” she said over her shoulder. “I’m sure there was the danger of heatstroke.”

“Oh. Yeah.” I didn’t like where this line of questioning was going. It seemed as if she was fishing for something, and I wanted to change the subject before she discovered whatever she was looking for.

She turned around in the doorway to the bathroom and flashed me a thoughtful look. “Your father must have been disappointed with you going into the military.”

“Huh?”

She gathered her clothes and turned to face him. “He had always wanted you to enter the police academy, right? It must have been a disappointment to learn that you didn’t follow in his footsteps.” She widened her eyes. “He doesn’t know that you’re an escort, does he?”

I blinked as I tried to come up with a suitable response. “He died several years ago,” I said.

“Oh, my God.” She crossed back through the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m so sorry.” She touched my hand and gave me that sympathetic look I had seen so many times before. “I didn’t know.”

“No one did.” We had already graduated when he died, and the following year I had joined the police academy. My brothers had moved in with my aunt and had transferred schools. There was no way anyone at our former school would have known.

“Still, I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded toward the shower door. “You’d better go take your shower. We don’t want to be late.”

“Oh.” She straightened away from the bed. She hurried toward the bathroom and paused at the door. “Gabe?”

“Yeah?”

“I really am sorry about your father. I liked him.”






Keeping Her Close Book Description

As the newest SWAT (Special Weapons and Tactics) Team member, Officer Maximo "Max" Ferreira is irritated that his first assignment is not diffusing a terrorist threat, but instead providing protection to the controversial blogger Tess Abbott during her lecture tour in New York City. He believes the job is nothing more than glorified babysitting but after one look at the sexy journalist, suddenly, his job is no longer a hardship.

The attraction between them is immediate, and Tess's take-charge personality in the bedroom is like a dream come true. Unfortunately, Tess is too wrapped up in her work to take their relationship seriously. When an attempt is made on her life, it will take all of Max's training to convince her to stop trying to handle everything on her own and stay where he can protect her best--in his arms.



Keeping Her Close by Suzanne Rock

 

He cleared his throat and shifted his stance, pulling his suit jacket over his slacks. “I asked if there was anything wrong. You were staring.”

“Was I?” I swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking about . . .”

“About what happened?” he asked when I didn’t answer.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t worry, it was all an act. That hotel employee was getting a little nosey, and I didn’t want him to start digging too deep.”

I knew that it couldn’t be completely an act. He was far too aroused to have been faking all of it, but his words still hurt. I wasn’t sure how to respond, considering how much the kiss had affected me.

“I was faking it, too.”

He raised his brows. “Were you?”

I crossed my arms and lifted my chin. “Of course. You aren’t the only person on the planet who can fake a kiss.”

He started to respond, but then the elevator doors opened, distracting him. I rushed out into the hall before he could call my bluff, hoping that he wouldn’t see my embarrassment. What was wrong with me? I was the daughter of a United Nations representative and an established political blogger. I was above throwing myself at a man, certainly.

I hurried to the door and stood to one side so he could let us in. Max casually strode up to the room and leaned on the opposite side of the door frame.

“You weren’t faking it back there. I could tell.”

“Oh yeah?”

He nodded. “I know when something is real””

I snorted. “Do you, now?”

“Is that a challenge? Because we’ll have a few hours to kill in this room, and I’m sure that’s more than enough time to make you a believer . . .”

I shook my head in disbelief. “I’d like to see you try.” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I regretted them. What was I doing? Someone out there was trying to kill me and here I was, flirting like some schoolgirl. This was ridiculous. I had contacts to talk to and Kami to check up on. There wasn’t any time for this nonsense.

“Challenge accepted, sweetheart.” Inching closer, Max’s features turned predatory.

My throat suddenly went dry. “You don’t have to—”

He stopped inches away from my body. I could feel the heat radiating off him in waves. He was so hot, so undeniably male. I had all I could do to not throw myself at him like some sort of groupie.

Seconds passed, and he didn’t touch me, didn’t speak. Slowly, my desire gave way to awkwardness and confusion.

“Well?” I finally said as I waved to the door knob behind him. “Aren’t you going to do something?”

He twisted his lips into a half-smile and dropped his gaze to my chest. “I’d love to . . . do something, but I can’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not going to take you out in the hall like some crazed animal.”

“I—I don’t understand.”

“The door, Tess. We need to open the door to the room.” He brushed his finger over the top of my breast. His heat pushed through the cotton sweater, then trickled down my torso until it reached my lower abdomen. “You’re the one with the key.”

“Oh, right.” I wanted to step back, to grab the key and retreat to safety, but there was something in his gaze, something in the way his finger brushed over my breast that had me rooted to the spot.

“Unless you would rather have me do it for you.”

My breath caught as he reached out and slid his fingers underneath the low-cut seam of my shirt.

His warm fingers made it all too easy to remember the kiss we had shared only a few minutes before. I held my breath as he reached deeper, slipping his fingers along my skin and sending tingles of anticipation running through me.

Then abruptly he retreated and waved the room card in the air between us. As he turned toward the door, I started breathing once more and tried to use the moment to gather my wits.

I lifted my chin as he flicked open the door and breezed past him with as much dignity as I could muster.

“Hold that thought.”

“What?”

“I said—hold that thought.” He closed the door, tossed the card on the table, and moved about the standard-size room, pulling the cream curtains shut and peering underneath the navy-and-white bedsheets.

“What are you doing?”

“I need to secure the area. Can’t have anyone peaking in on our little game.”

“Our little—” I fisted my hands and ground my teeth. “This is not a game.”

“No?”

“No. You’re supposed to be protecting me, not trying to seduce me.”

“Trying to—” He turned to me and smirked. “I’m not ‘trying to’ seduce you, my dear. I’m succeeding.”

“Of all the egotistical—”

He nodded in my direction. “You’re so revved up that I can smell your desire all the way over here on the other side of the room.”

I made a sound of both surprise and disgust. Was my attraction to him really that obvious? “You cannot—”

“Hey, hey,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “It’s okay. I get it. It’s been a while for me, too.”

“What? I’ll have you know that I—” I pressed my lips together before I could tell him about my lipstick vibrator. Something told me that he’d only laugh at my confession.

He shrugged. “Like I said, it’s no big deal. The whole team has been busy preparing for your arrival. We’ve all been working overtime, which means there hasn’t been any time for fun.”

 

 


A lifetime New Englander, Suzanne Rock has been married to her college sweetheart for more than two decades. In addition to being a self-published authors whose boxed sets have hit the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists, Suzanne is a chauffeur, a maid, a chef, an event planner, a hairdresser, a wardrobe stylist, a tutor, and a sometimes masseuse. Her steamy books include At His Service, For His Pleasure, and others.

 

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