Finder Fees by Kelly Gendron TroubleMaker #4 P
ublication Date: October 13, 2014
Genres: Contemporary, Erotica, Romance
(99c Sale! On sale until 11/9)
Synopsis:
“When you find her, there are a few things you need to remember. She’s smart and manipulative. She knows how to protect herself. She’s beautiful and she’ll use it to her advantage. But, Mr. Renton, the most important thing to remember… is that she’s mine.” J.T. Renton is worth millions. He wants for nothing. When he finds Sloan Mathis, he has to have her. Problem is she belongs to another, and J.T.’s not about taking another guy’s girl. But the idea that he can’t have her. Well, it just makes the challenge driven, J.T. Renton want his latest find that much more. Finder Fees ~ A TroubleMaker Novel J.T. Renton is what you might call a Finder. But the one thing this former bounty hunter no longer finds is people. That is until he’s offered a finder fee he just can’t resist. What J.T. doesn’t know is his latest find comes with a hidden fee, one that could end up costing J.T. his well-guarded heart. Sloan Mathis is on the run from her dangerous ex. So when she encounters J.T. Renton, it takes her a second to realize the arrogant, sexy, and oh-so-frustrating Finder has actually mistaken Sloan for her twin sister. And to uncover what’s going on with her gone missing sister, Sloan lets J.T. believe that he’s found what he’s been looking for.Excerpts:
“Mr. Renton?”
“Sloan, I presume,” he returns with a confident,
easy smile. “Come in.” He takes a step back. “And please call me ‘J.T.’”
Shit! The guy’s voice is even all come-hithery. A
shiver of eagerness and hotness ripples up my spine as I enter the room, a
luxury suite far bigger than my shitty apartment. Familiar with the upscale
hotel from previous jobs, I know the bed is in a separate room.
My hot new client must have mad quid. Not only is
there a fireplace, but the damn room comes with a bar. After he closes the
door, that’s where he walks, and that thigh-clenching aroma lingering in the
air intensifies with each deliberate step he takes. And me, I’m watching
attentively as he takes each one.
“Would you
like a drink?” He lifts the glass whiskey decanter to pour himself one.
Trailing my eyes over his broad shoulders, back,
and narrow waist, my mouth starts to water, but I’m not thirsty for liquor. I’m
used to guys in tats, t’s, and jeans at Lucky’s shop—guys like Trent Skinner,
who frequent The InkWell. But this physically fit, pompous ass, somehow pulls
off debonair while still managing to look downright beastly. His dark dress
slacks take nothing away from his fine-looking ass. Makes it difficult to
ignore that in a few minutes, his rampant body will be naked, and my hands will
be all over him.
“No, thanks,” I murmur.
Regardless of my response, he proceeds to pour a
second drink.
Both glasses in hand, he turns to me with another
dimple-dashing smile. “Please come and sit down.” He sets one glass on the
coffee table in front of the sofa, then settles into the adjacent chair.
Rule number one: Never fraternize with the client.
Nonetheless, determined eyes pull me to him. If nothing else, I’ll set his
fine-looking ass straight. I drop my bag on the cushion, and my ass hits the
sofa. I cross my legs, straighten my back, and match his penetrating stare.
“Just to be clear, Mr. Renton, I’m a certified massage therapist, and I don’t
offer any kind of extra services.”
The side of his mouth lifts into a crooked smile.
“I’m pleased to hear that, but to be honest, I didn’t call you here for any extra services…or even for a massage,
for that matter.”
“You didn’t?”
He sets his glass on the table, places his
forearms on his thighs, and leans forward. “No.”
My heartbeat quickens. “Then why did you call me here?”
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