Time for cake! I should, but I don't always get this excited about a new release. Something about this story has me all tingly. Maybe it's because I have a soft spot for bad boys who like to tease and Maddox Knight is definitely one of those.
Or maybe it's because I'm leaning in hard to the rom-com tropes, though there's still plenty of drama. How couldn't there be a healthy dose of angst in a romance?
Or maybe it's the long, slow, sizzling burn...
Whatever it is, if you're up for a steamy, fun and poignant read with hot hockey players and a sassy sports agent out to prove something, then you might want to try He Has Charm.
How about an Excerpt?
He opens his mouth and closes it without saying a word. A thrill shudders down my spine at the fact that I’ve finally shaken the notorious too-cool-to-care lady charmer. Then he laughs. Of course. I stand and gesture to the door and he finally unfolds himself from the chair, standing a half foot taller than me, his light shirt straining against his wide shoulders and sinewy arms. He’s wearing shorts and sneakers like he just came from the gym. He probably did because those muscles are unnaturally sculpted like he should be in a painting.
“We?” he asks. My brain scrambles to remember what I just said. Oh yeah, we are catching a flight.
“Weren’t you listening to a thing I said? I’m your handler—as in I’ll be with you in Boston for the rest of the season, or until you prove you can be trusted not to cause a scandal.”
“Define ‘with me’,” he says, his voice oozing flirtatious charm and innuendo. “Are we sharing a place?” He arches one brow and lifts the corner of one side of his mouth—the side with the dimple, as if—
“Stop. Just stop. You think you’re so funny, but this is the kind of attitude that got you into trouble.”
“Relax, St. John, I’m just toying with you.” Both dimples show and he looks all aw shucks, who me? If I hadn’t just watched that video and had an eyeful of what he’s really about, I would buy his harmless hockey-boy charm. Those eyes, though… never mind. I step out of the office of our client’s now previous team, and he falls in line with me.
“A limo will pick you up in two hours and we’ll arrange to have your things shipped as soon as we find you a place. For now we’re staying at the Bostonian Hotel.”
“You never did say if we’d be sharing—”
“No. No sharing. I’ll be in the room next to yours at the hotel. With a locked door between us. You may as well start thinking of me as your jailer. Handler is a bad word. I don’t know why they use the term. I’m your prison guard, Maddox Knight. Get used to that.”
He grins and I want to slap him, but I purse my lips and walk ahead of him out of the building and into the waiting car, closing the door on him as he follows. I lower the window.
“Get your own car home. And be ready on time.”