Dating the Enemy. Amber Page
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Just then the car stopped. “We’ve arrived,” the chauffeur said.
Nick slid across the seat until his thigh pressed against hers. “There’s really only one thing you need to know.”
Jessie swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “What’s that?”
“You’re going to be the most beautiful woman in the room.”
That was so far away from what she’d expected to hear she wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly.
The heat in his sapphire gaze pinned her to the spot. He bent his head down toward hers and her pulse jumped in response. He hovered centimeters away, his eyes still locked on hers.
“I want you more than I’ve wanted anything in a very long time,” he said. “But if you get in my way I’ll still crush you like a bug.”
I’ve had a girl crush on Jessie since I first met her while writing ALL’S FAIR IN LUST & WAR. She burst into my brain fully formed and already begging for her own story.
But that didn’t make this book easy to write. Jessie, you see, is very particular. She knows exactly what she will and won’t do. And when I wrote something she didn’t like she would stomp off to some remote corner of my brain, refusing to come out until I promised to fix it.
The resulting story is one I know you’ll love. Jessie is now the owner of her own boutique ad agency in New York City, and when we join her she’s on top of the world. She’s determined to rule the ad biz—and love is not in her plans.
But, as we all know, even the best-laid plans get blown to smithereens when the right man walks in. Nick is the perfect match for Jessie—smart, powerful, and devastatingly handsome (not to mention a fabulous kisser). In fact he has just one flaw—he wants to own her business.
Documenting the fireworks between them was great fun—but hopefully not nearly as much as reading about them will be!
I hope you love Jessie and Nick as much as I do by the time you’re done. And I hope you’ll join me online to chat about them! My internet home is www.amberpagebooks.com, but you can also find me on Facebook at facebook.com/amberpagebooks, and on Twitter at @amberpagewrites.
Thank you so much for joining me on this journey!
Amber
AMBER PAGE has been writing stories since—well, since she could write, and still counts the pinning of her Bubble People tale to the classroom bulletin board in the third grade as one of her happiest childhood memories.
She’s also an avid reader, and has been addicted to romances since she first discovered them on the dusty shelves of her favourite library as a young teen. The nerdy little bookworm she was is still pinching herself to make sure that this whole ‘getting published’ thing is real.
When not penning happily-ever-afters, Amber works as an advertising writer in the heart of Indiana, where she lives with the love of her life, their daughter, and a menagerie of furry animals. She also blogs, gardens, and sometimes even manages to sneak in a few hours of sleep.
Don’t ask her how she does it all. She’s too tired to remember.
Dating
the Enemy
Amber Page
To my mom and dad, who taught me to believe in my dreams—and who never stopped chasing their own.
And to my daughter, who’d better not read this for at least another ten years. Hopefully someday you’ll understand that this is why Mommy’s always so tired (and that it’s totally worth it).
Table of Contents
Dear Reader
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
JESSIE HOVERED ON the edge of the dance floor, feeling strangely melancholy as she watched Becky swirl around the room in her new husband’s arms. Gone was the brittle-shelled worker bee of a year ago. In her place was a true beauty, sparkling with happiness.
It seemed her friend had found her white knight—even if he had needed a good scrubbing before his true colors showed.
Seeing her joy, Jessie found herself wishing for … something. Not a happily-ever-after, but something more substantial than the one-night affairs she usually satisfied herself with.
Unfortunately it was just her and her champagne glass this evening. Might as well drink up.
She lifted the cold glass to her lips and took a big gulp, letting the bubbles dance their way down her throat. It was good champagne. Slightly sweet, smooth as silk. A satisfied purr pushed its way out into the air before she could stop it.
A quiet, thoroughly masculine laugh sounded from beside her.
“Good champagne?” its owner asked.
Jessie looked up … and up … and up.
Towering above her was an escapee from a fashion magazine. Blond-haired, blue-eyed, with shoulders that seemed to stretch from one end of the room to the other. She smiled. Perhaps her night wouldn’t be quite so lonely after all.
“Well, it is turning out to be a more satisfying wedding date than I expected,” she said. “Good looks. Good taste. No bad dance moves.”
He laughed again, and the sound reverberated in her bones.
“And to think, I was just about to ask you to dance,” he said. “But something tells me I won’t measure