|Название||The Honeymoon Arrangement|
|Автор произведения||Joss Wood|
|Жанр||Современные любовные романы|
|Издательство||Современные любовные романы|
‘Holiday romances seldom work out,’ she murmured.
‘That’s what I’ve heard.’
‘Keep reminding me that this is nothing more than a few weeks of fun, okay?’
Finn rubbed his jaw. He had to acknowledge that it would be easy to forget who they were and why they were here. They were on a fake honeymoon—emphasis on the fake—surrounded by romance and luxury, and they might easily get swept away and inadvertently slip on a pair of those rose-coloured glasses.
He—they—had to keep their eyes open, their heads in the game.
Callie turned her head and sent him a small, almost sad smile. ‘We’re on the same page?’
He rubbed his hand over his jaw before nodding briskly. ‘Just to be clear—are you saying that you’ll sleep with me?’
The tip of her tongue touched her top lip and he saw her skin flush with anticipated pleasure. Yeah, she would be his as much as he would be hers. Tonight.
Callie held his eyes as she sucked in her bottom lip. ‘Well, sleeping isn’t what we would be doing, exactly.’
When I wrote THE LAST GUY SHE SHOULD CALL I got so many messages from readers asking for Callie’s story. Something about the vivacious, independent, flirty character grabbed them, and—Callie being Callie—she hasn’t stopped nagging me for her happily-ever-after since then!
When a condom falls from the pocket of a gorgeous blonde’s jacket into his lap on a flight back from New York to Cape Town, travel writer Finn Banning knows that Callie Hollis is trouble with a capital T. She’s bold and flirtatious, and somehow he finds himself in a discussion about his upcoming wedding and her feelings about love and marriage … She’s cynical and sceptical and she doesn’t buy into the concept of happy-ever-after. But Finn needs a wedding planner, and Callie gives him the name and number for her friend Rowan, who is doing just that.
Three months later the wedding is off and Finn finds himself all at sea. He’s not particularly upset about losing his fiancée, but he is devastated at the loss of his dreams to have a family. He also has a huge problem in that he’s been contracted to write a series of articles for an important publication on upmarket honeymoon destinations, to be researched while he’s on his honeymoon, and he can’t let them or the magazine down.
Nobody is more surprised than Callie when she finds herself agreeing to act as Finn’s fake wife. But needs must: she needs to vacate Cape Town to avoid meeting up with her mother, who left her and her brother Seb when they were very young, so she jumps at the chance to spend three weeks with the über-delicious Finn Banning at various luxury honeymoon destinations in Southern Africa.
It’s a perfect arrangement—she’ll be his rebound girl and he’ll be a fling, and in three weeks they’ll wave each other goodbye. Hmm…I don’t think so!
I hope you enjoy Callie’s story as much as I loved writing it.
Come and say hi via Facebook: Joss Wood Author or Twitter: @josswoodbooks or visit www.josswoodbooks.com
JOSS WOOD wrote her first book at the age of eight and has never really stopped. Her passion for putting letters on a blank screen is matched only by her love of books and travelling—especially to the wild places of Southern Africa—and possibly by her hatred of ironing and making school lunches.
Fuelled by coffee, when she’s not writing or being a hands-on mum, Joss, with her background in business and marketing, works for a non-profit organisation to promote the local economic development and collective business interests of the area where she resides. Happily and chaotically surrounded by books, family and friends, she lives in Kwa-Zulu Natal, South Africa, with her husband, children and their many pets.
To Sandi, so far away but still so close to my heart.
Also for Sandi’s Chris, who brings my little technie toys.
Table of Contents
‘MINIMALISM, MODERNISM OR IMPRESSIONISM?’
Finn Banning looked up from his seat in business class into the lovely face of a navy-eyed blonde with her hand resting on the seat in front of him. A ten-second scan told him that her body was long, lean and leggy, her waist tiny, her bright blonde hair falling way past her shoulders. Another five seconds of looking into those impish flirty eyes told him that she was Trouble. With a capital T. God, he hoped she wasn’t sitting next to him on this long-haul flight back to Cape Town from JFK.
Over the past two months his life had been turned upside down and inside out and he didn’t want to make small talk with a stranger—even if she was supermodel-gorgeous.
But he couldn’t help the corners of his mouth kicking up in response to the mischief in those amazing eyes.
‘Graffiti,’ he replied when she cocked an arrogant sculpted eyebrow.
Her mouth twitched in what he suspected was a smile waiting to bloom.
‘Whisky or bourbon?’
She tipped her head and tapped her foot, encased in what looked to be, under the hem of