When professor/literary reviewer Delaney Conner wins a makeover, she's suddenly getting lots of attention! Too bad it's from bad boy--and very sexy--author Nick Angel, whose latest book Delaney shredded. Her main complaint? All of Nick's sex scenes lack emotion. Where's the passion? The feelings? But when she and Nick find themselves between the sheets, Delaney ends up feeling far more than she ever expected....Nick finds Delaney frustrating and very, very attractive. But experience tells him it's just skin-deep. So he challenges the seductive Delaney--either prove that love makes good sex great (her theory), or else admit that the world's greatest sex is purely physical (his theory). No matter who wins, they're going to have a deliciously decadent time proving each other wrong....
There are no customer reviews available at this time. Would you like to write a review?
August 31, 2008
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from Risque Business by Tawny Weber
Her hot, desperate breaths echoed down the long, dark hallway. Terror coalesced into a black swirl of passion as his mouth slid down the concave silk of her belly. His fingers gripped her butt, lifting her for his pleasure, totally in control. He held complete dominance over her. Damp heat pooled between her legs, making her squirm in silent supplication. His fingers tightened, holding her prisoner, demanding she await his command.
Delaney Conner's own breath puffed out as the words blurred on the page. God, to be that woman! She'd already read this scene three times since she'd gotten Nick Angel's latest erotic thriller, but it still fascinated her. Fascinated, hell. She'd had two orgasms thanks to this chapter alone. Three, if she counted the memory it'd invoked in the shower.
She traced a finger over the face on the back cover. The author's eyes, vivid and piercing, promised an ability to live up to the heat between the pages. She wondered how much of the sexual appeal was the words themselves, and how much was knowing they'd been written by the man with the sexiest face she'd ever seen grace a book jacket.
With a gasp, Delaney tossed the book in her canvas tote as if it had spouted flames. Cheeks on fire, she plastered a look of ingenuous questioning on her face. Hopefully the rapid flutter of her eyelashes conveyed innocence, in addition to cooling off her cheeks.
"Mr. Sims, hello," Delaney said, her tone tight and stiff, as suited a professor at Rosewood.
Women like the heroines in Nick Angel's books, when busted having sex in public places, gave a wicked smile and made you envy their moxie. Her? She couldn't even read sexy books in public without blushing and worrying someone was going to rat her out for ill-advised reading choices.After all, reading was meant to be an educational pursuit, never for tawdry entertainment.
"I just wanted to say how much I got out of today's lecture. The evolution of character archetypes fascinates me."
Her discomfort dissipated as Delaney shifted into teaching mode. The two of them fell into a discussion of the topic, Delaney growing more animated and excited the more they talked. She loved it when a student grasped her concepts, loved even more seeing the spark of excitement in his eyes. Delaney wasn't an easy teacher by any means. She pushed her students, keeping her curriculum dynamic and challenging. But she prided herself on having the lowest failure rate of any other professor in the English department.
And her success would only help in her bid to become assistant head of the Department. A plum promotion, it'd put her in the position to take over as department head within the next ten years. Exactly as she'd planned. And maybe, just maybe, it'd have the added bonus of actually getting her father's attention.
"Excuse me," said a husky voice.
Delaney and Sims moved aside to let a gorgeous brunette pass. Stunning from the top of her perfectly straight hair to the bottom of her sleek black heels, even her little red suit screamed power. Now she was a perfect Nick Angel heroine. Sexy, savvy and confident.
They both watched the woman pass, Delaney envying her sense of presence and Sims obviously admiring her ass. While he gathered his composure, Delaney glanced at her watch.
Damn. Late again. With a quick goodbye to her student, she hurried down the hall to the dean's office.
She flew into the reception area. The tiny blonde at the desk looked like a kewpie doll. Flaxen curls, huge blue eyes and a round dimpled face hid a razor-sharp mind and a wicked sense of humor. She was Delaney's best friend, and the two women had bonded over an obsession with Johnny Depp, eighties rock music and their mutual love for romance novels, a top-secret subject here at the college. Rosewood was that uptight and narrow-minded.
It'd taken Delaney until last year to finally confide in Mindy Adams her deepest, darkest secret. She not only loved to read popular fiction, but unbeknownst to anyone other than Mindy, she also made a tidy income reviewing it for various magazines and newspapers. She'd heard a rumor that two years ago, the college had fired an art history professor when they'd discovered she modeled on the side. That her modeling had been of historical costumes in a magazine layout had seemed to make no difference to the dean. Delaney could only assume that he and the trustees saw it as frivolous and mocking.
So she kept her reviews top secret and used her middle name, Madison. She'd have been crazy not to.
"Am I too late? Is my father still here?" she asked, catching her breath.
"He's still here," Mindy responded slowly.
"What's wrong?" Delaney asked, still panting slightly.
"I just thought you might want to know, um--" Mindy hesitated, then sighed. "Did you notice that brunette leaving a few minutes ago?"