"If you think that kiss changed anything, you’re mistaken."
The Christmas One Night Stand, a smoking-hot enemies-to-lovers forbidden romance from bestselling author L. Steele is available now!
I got pregnant from a one-night-stand with my worst enemy
Then I walked into the office to find out he was my new boss...
In my defense, I hadn’t planned on having anything to do with Hunter Whittington again.
So what if his jaw can cut glass, his gaze is piercing and he has a body that haunted my dreams?
We hated each other on sight.
Couldn’t spend time in the same room without getting into a fight.
Until we find ourselves double-booked...
...in the same house over Christmas.
What’s worse there’s only one bedroom.
And a snowstorm brewing outside.
Then the electricity goes out...
Only the chemistry between us takes off.
Unable to keep our hands off each other we make a pact...
...to spend one night together.
We wouldn’t speak about it afterwards.
Not to each other, not to the world.
We’d pretend it never happened.
Except for the pink line across the test in my hand...
This is Zara and Hunter’s story. A true enemies to lovers stand alone romance. Features a feisty, determined-to-stand-up-for-herself beauty and the grumpy billionaire who’ll tame her and lose his heart in the process. Guaranteed to give you all the feels, along with the grand gestures and the HEA you crave! 1-Click NOW
Tropes: Enemies to lovers, Boss – Employee, forbidden romance, growly tattooed hero, strong female lead
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Keep reading for a look inside The Christmas One Night Stand!
"Is it always this easy for you? To wave your hand and have all of your needs met? To incline your head and have minions jump to do your bidding? To ask and always receive?"
"Except with you."
He narrows his blue-green gaze on me from across the expanse of the table. The candlelight highlights the golden-brown specks in the depths of his eyes and haloes his dark hair, turning it almost blue. The hollows under his cheekbones seem more pronounced, the dip in his chin seems more delicious.
I try to tear my gaze from his, but it’s as if he holds me in a tractor beam. Awareness tugs on and stretches the air between us. My heart begins to race. This is ridiculous. So, he’s good-looking. I knew that already. What I hadn’t realized is that hidden behind that polished mask he presents to the world is an untamed animal. A beast lying in wait to unleash that darkness inside of him. An edginess, a sharp wickedness that I never would’ve guessed he’d be capable of, but which I sense now lapping at the restraints that he’s placed on himself.
I curl my fingers around the stem of my champagne glass. "I didn’t say I wanted champagne."
"You love champagne. It’s your drink of choice," he declares.
My eyebrows shoot up. "And you guessed this, how?"
"Nothing a little bit of research didn’t reveal."
I stiffen. "You had me investigated?"
"Something you already knew about." He continues, "As you did me."
I blink, then surprise myself when laughter tumbles out from between my lips. "Touché." I raise my glass.
He seems taken aback, himself. Then his lips curve up in a smile that’s so open, so real that something flutters deep inside. It’s probably ripples of hunger, that’s all. I had very little for lunch and no breakfast. That’s the reason my stomach seems to be bottoming out.
"Also, your acting skills need leveling up."
"Excuse me?"
"You knew you were being followed, considering you gave my investigator the slip a few times."
I raise a shoulder. "So, get a better investigator."
This time it’s he who barks out a laugh. "Keep up this banter, and I’ll begin to think it’s our brand of foreplay."
"You wish," I scoff.
His grin widens. "Of course, the fact that you evaded the detective I had on you makes me wonder what you have to hide."
The blood drains from my features, then I tip up my chin. "Maybe I have a lover."
"No, you don’t."
I pull back my shoulders. "You seem awfully confident about that, Minister."
He stares at me. “Why is that so sexy coming from you?”
Heat flushes my skin, and my mouth dries. Why is it so hot to hear him say that particular four-letter word? Why is the thought of this man talking filthy to me such a turn on? I toss my hair over my shoulder, then tip up my chin. “Hold your horses. I only called you, Minister, not Prime Minister, which you’re not—”
“—yet,” he adds smoothly, then narrows his gaze. "You can’t belong to anyone else."
"Oh?"
He nods. "You’re mine, Zara, and I’ll do everything in my power to make you accept that."
For more information on L. Steele’s books and where to contact her, visit her website:
Happy readings,
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