Buy your e-book or paperback copy at:
Synopsis: Marital arts expert, Ramm Prescott, wants access to his trust fund and will go to any lengths necessary to meet his grandfather’s terms to gain it.
Bogged down by responsibility, Jeannie Stewart isn’t looking for romance, but when a self-seeking man selects her as the candidate to have his child; his crafty seduction lures her unwittingly to his bed. Unaware that Ramm Prescott has an ulterior motive to use her in a scheme to gain his trust fund, she falls in love with him. When his deceit unfurls, her worst nightmare is just beginning…
EXCERPT (from Chapter One)
At the door of the fashionable hotel lounge, Jeannie took a deep breath. Not a patron of nightspots, the soft lights, the buzz of people talking and laughing, the clink of ice cubes in glasses, and the music, all assaulted her self-confidence. She had to stop herself from grabbing onto Trudy’s arm as they stepped inside the dimly lit interior.
As was usual for a Saturday night in San Francisco, the place was crowded, filled with the scent of perfume, alcohol, and lots of noise. Two bartenders stayed busy mixing drinks for the bar customers and for the waitresses who hurried back and forth to their work stations. A four piece band played soft, dreamy music, which dancers glided to on the dance floor.
As Jeannie and Trudy made their way across the lounge, Jeannie knew a moment of self consciousness as she felt eyes staring at her. She wasn’t used to cocktail lounges or barrooms. She was more at home at church socials.
“People are staring at us,” Jeannie whispered to Trudy.
Trudy laughed. “Naturally, they’re going to look at someone as beautiful as you, silly. That’s what men do when they’re interested,”
Jeannie remembered a quote from someone about barrooms: A sex-pool for the Saturday night lonely hearts that are looking for love. “Interested in what, though?” Jeannie questioned virtuously.
“Come on, Jeannie. This is harmless fun. We’re here to dance and have a good time.”
“I’ll try,” she promised good-naturedly.
The band started playing a lively number that was too loud to permit a conversation. Trudy and Jeannie took a seat and gave their order to the waitress.
Jeannie watched Trudy’s face brightening with laughter as she whirled about the floor with her partner, having a good time. Seeing Trudy’s light-hearted gaiety caused a pang of loneliness to hit Jeannie all at once. She didn’t have the time or freedom to enjoy life as her friends did. She wished she had stayed home.
Several men came to the table and asked Jeannie to dance. She refused, and they quit asking. She lifted her tall glass and sipped coke through the straw, glancing at her friends on the dance floor and at the busy activity of the bartenders and waitresses.
That’s when she saw him watching her.
He was sitting on a bar stool facing her way, with a leg slung across his other leg, his hands clasping his knee. He was handsome and bore the look of good breeding. His elegant appearance grabbed Jeannie’s attention and sent her heart into a somersault. Suddenly every thought, worry and concern left over from a busy day vanished from her mind. Maybe it was the blonde hair, the same color as hers. Maybe it was his dark tan, or his height and muscular build. She didn’t know. It didn’t matter. She just knew he was the best looking man she had ever seen.
Her heart raced excitedly. A moment in time and space established an illusive link between him and her. What devious fate made her react so intensely to a mere look from him? She could not tell.
She watched him slip off the bar stool and amble casually toward her. Her heart was racing and she feared she might become tongue-tied and foolish.
“Hi, I’m Ramm Prescott. Will you dance with me?” He reached out his hand to her like a man not used to rejection.
Jeannie smiled shyly up at him, a pleasant glow cascading over her skin like warm bath water.
“I’m Jeannie Stewart,” she smiled and reached for his hand. When he wrapped an arm about her waist while they walked to the dance floor, the mere touch of his hand made her feel like a woman.
He pulled her against him, his corded muscular arms enveloping her with pillow warmth. Her focus on that hard body pressing against her and a feeling of oneness with Ramm Prescott invaded all her senses. She had heard of instant attraction, but she’d never heard of instant love; yet, what she felt had all the pleasant and sensuous sensations of love.
Ramm stepped back from her momentarily and gazed intently upon her face lit by the lights from the bandstand. Her milk and honey complexion was soft and smooth. Her eyes were a brilliant blue, nearly the same shade as his, and large like the eyes of a doe. Her warm curves molded and fit against him like they were made especially for that purpose. He decided she was beautiful, more beautiful than any woman he’d ever met before. Momentarily he compared her to Jessica who, as beautiful as she was, could not measure up to this woman’s exquisite loveliness.
“You must be a career woman,” Ramm said.
“I’m an elementary school teacher,” Jeannie replied
“Married, single, divorced?”
He glanced about. “Do you come here often?”
“No, this is my first time. My friend Trudy insisted I needed a night of fun and relaxation.”
“Are you having fun and relaxing?” They were standing still on the dance floor between numbers. Ramm was thinking how long it had been since he’d had sex, and imagined what Jeannie might be like in bed.
“Things have improved,” she said saucily.
Ramm’s hand slid down the silky softness of her dress to the soft curve of her hip. He pulled her closer against him.
“Why don’t we go some place so we can talk without all the noise?”
The phrase, lonely hearts looking for love, flashed across Jeannie’s mind. “No, thank you,” she said drily, not entirely ignorant of what such an invitation in a barroom meant. She pulled away from him and started to her seat.
“Hold on,” he said, taking her arm. “It was simply an honest invitation. Maybe I should have asked you to have coffee with me.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d really like to sit down now.” In that brief interval after he suggested they go someplace quiet, she had decided it was time for her to go home.
“Does this mean you won’t even dance with me again?”
“I enjoyed the dance but I think I’d like to sit this one out.” She took a chair and drank some coke.
“I’ll ask in a little while. Maybe you’ll change your mind.”
Ramm walked away, and Jeannie watched him saunter towards the men’s room in an unhurried gait. The minute he was out of sight, Jeannie grabbed her purse and walked to the dance floor where she interrupted Trudy and her partner. “I have to leave.”
“Is everything all right?” Trudy asked, her eyes crinkling at the corners with concern.
“Yes, can you get a ride with the girls?
Jeannie hurried outside to her car, not entirely immune to the warm excitement Ramm Prescott had ignited in her. She felt sexual yearnings like most normal folks did, and it raised her curiosity about the thrills she might have shared with him. Still feeling mellow and cuddly inside from his warm embrace on the dance floor, it all suddenly turned to gloom.
The reality of her life and its tons of responsibilities commenced to shatter any girlish illusions. There was no room in her world for Ramm Prescott or anyone else except her disabled parents and her job. Still, she felt the heat of wondering what it would be like to become involved in a relationship with such a man.
She shook her head, shaking off the illusions.
She couldn’t possibly know she had made a strong impression on Ramm Prescott, or that just before they met he had set a firm vow to find a worthy candidate to bear him a child, which would enable him to fulfill the terms of his grandfather’s will so he could receive his trust fund. Neither did she know that he would try to find her so he might pursue those plans with her. Since she had given him hardly any information about herself, even if he wanted to contact her again, she doubted he could locate her.
She would never see Ramm Prescott again—or at least that’s what she thought.
She was very wrong.
To read more about Jeanette’s books, go to: