MANWHORE
+ 1 by Katy Evans
EXCERPT
FOUR
WEEKS
I’ve
never been so hopeful as when I board the pristine glass elevator at
the M4 corporate building. A handful of employees ride along with me,
murmuring perfunctory greetings to each other and to me. I think my
mouth must be on vacation because I can’t seem to force it to
speak. But I smile in reply—my smile nervous, nervous but hopeful,
definitely hopeful. My riding companions step out on their floors one
by one until I’m alone, riding up to the executive floor on my own.
Toward
him.
Toward the man I
love.
My
body is raging. My blood is pumping—my blood is storming—my
thighs are shaking. My stomach feels filled with little earthquakes
that just won’t quit, then they turn into a full-fledged roil when
I hear the elevator ting
at his floor.
Stepping out, I’m
in corporate nirvana, surrounded by sleek chrome and pristine glass,
marble and limestone floors. But I hardly have eyes for anything
except the tall and imposing frosted glass doors at the far end of
the room.
Framing those doors
to each side is a pair of sleek designer desks, for a total of four.
Behind these desks
are four women in identical black-and-white suits, sitting behind
their gleaming dark-oak desks, working quietly behind their
flat-screen computers.
One of them, the
forty-year-old Catherine H. Ulysses—right hand of the man who owns
every inch of this building—stops what she’s doing when she sees
me. She arches her brow, then seems both tense and relieved as she
lifts the receiver on her desk and murmurs my name into it.
I.
Am. Not. Breathing.
But Catherine
doesn’t miss a beat as she motions me toward the huge frosted
doors—those intimidating doors—that lead into the lair of the
most powerful man in Chicago.
The human being with
the most powerful effect on me.
This is what I’ve
been waiting for, for four weeks. This is what I wanted when I left a
thousand messages on his phones and what I wanted when I wrote a
thousand others that I left unsent. To see him.
For him to want to
see me.
But as I force
myself to step forward, I don’t even know if I’ll have the
strength to stand before him and look him in the eye after what I
did.
I’m wracked so
hard with nervousness and anticipation and hope—yes hope, small but
bright, even as I shake like a leaf.
Catherine holds the
door open, and I struggle to hold my head high and walk into his
office.
Two steps inside I
hear the swoosh
of the glass door shutting behind me and my systems halt at the
familiar sight of the most beautiful office I’ve ever been in.
His office is all
vast marble and chrome, twelve-foot ceilings, and endless
floor-to-ceiling windows.
And there he is. The
center of its axis. The center of my world.
He’s pacing by the
window, speaking into a headset in a low, low voice—the kind he
uses when he’s pissed. All I can make out are the words have
to be dead to let her fall into his clutches …
He
hangs up, and as if he feels me in the room, he turns his head. His
eyes flare when he sees me. His green eyes.
His achingly
familiar, beautiful green eyes.
He
inhales, very slowly, his chest expanding, his hands curling a little
at his sides as he looks at me.
I
look back at him.
Malcolm Kyle Preston
Logan Saint.
I
just walked into the eye of the most powerful storm of my life. No.
Not a storm. A hurricane.
Four weeks, I
haven’t seen him. And he still looks exactly as I remember. Larger
than life, and more irresistible than ever.
His striking face is
perfectly shaven today, and his sensual lips look so achingly full I
can almost feel them against mine. Six-feet-plus of perfectly
controlled male power stand before me, in a perfect black suit and a
killer tie. He’s the very devil in Armani; strong-boned,
square-jawed, gleaming dark hair and those penetrating eyes.
He’s got the best
eyes.
They twinkle
mercilessly when he teases me, and when he doesn’t tease me,
they’re mysterious and unreadable, assessing and intelligent,
keeping me guessing about his thoughts.
But I had forgotten
how cold those eyes used to be. Green arctic ice looks back at me
now. Every fleck of ice in those eyes gleaming like diamond shards.
He
clenches his jaw and tosses the headset aside.
He
looks as approachable as a wall, his shoulders stretching his white
shirt, which clings to his skin like a groupie. But I know he’s not
a wall; I’ve never wanted to throw myself at a wall like this.
He’s walking
towards me. Every step he takes makes my heart pound as he moves with
that quiet and confident own-the-world stride of his.
He
stops a few feet away and shoves his hands into his pants pockets;
and he seems so big all of a sudden, and he smells so utterly good.
I drop my eyes to his tie as the little candle of hope I walked in
with starts to flicker with doubt.
For
every sin there is a sinner!
Manwhore
+ 1 is now available for pre-order
at
the following retailers:
Pre-order
Now:
PRE-ORDER
SURPRISE!
Submit
your proof of pre-order and get an early peek at Ms. Manwhore, the
last of Saint and Rachel's passionate love story. Click here to
enter: http://www.katyevans.net/pre-order-bonus/
Blurb
The
unexpected love story that began in MANWHORE continues heating up the
pages in MANWHORE +1 by New York Times bestselling author Katy
Evans...
Billionaire
playboy? Check.
Ruthless
businessman? Check.
Absolutely
sinful? Check.
Malcolm
Saint was an assignment. A story. A beautiful, difficult man I was
supposed to uncover for a racy exposé.
I
intended to reveal him, his secrets, his lifestyle--not let him
reveal me. But my head was overtaken by my heart and suddenly nothing
could stop me from falling. I fell for him, and I fell hard.
Malcolm
Saint is absolute Sin, and I've become a hopeless Sinner.
Now
that the assignment is over, Saint wants something from me--something
unexpected--and I want this wicked playboy's heart. But how can I
prove to the man who trusts no one that I'm worthy of becoming his
plus one?
Manwhore
(Book One)
Now
Available
About
the Author:
Hey! I’m Katy
Evans and I love family, books, life, and love. I’m married with
two children and three dogs and spend my time baking, walking,
writing, reading, and taking care of my family. Thank you for
spending your time with me and picking up my story. I hope you had an
amazing time with it, like I did. If you’d like to know more about
books in progress, look me up on the Internet, I’d love to hear
from you!
Email:
authorkatyevans@gmail.com
No comments:
Post a Comment