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In The Market For Love
Joy Avery
Every passion has its priceThe devastatingly attractive stranger who walks into Tender Hearts Memorial Hospital instantly raises red flags for Vivian Moore. The ER nurse’s worst fears are confirmed when she discovers who he is: The real estate developer rumored to be snatching up many of the properties in her old neighborhood. And Vivian is sure his passionate pursuit is just a front for the prize Alonso Wright is really after–her beloved childhood home.Alonso is committed to building a community events center that will be a lasting monument to his grandfather’s memory. The only thing keeping him from fulfilling his dream is the compassionate, guarded beauty who refuses to negotiate. If he fails, Alonso stands to lose a significant investment. But once he gives into his desire for Vivian, he could lose something far more precious. As a hurricane batters the North Carolina coast, an unscrupulous business associate threatens to derail Alonso’s future that now means nothing without Vivian to share it with him…
Every passion has its price
The devastatingly attractive stranger who walks into Tender Hearts Memorial Hospital instantly raises red flags for Vivian Moore. The ER nurse’s worst fears are confirmed when she discovers who he is: the real estate developer rumored to be snatching up many of the properties in her old neighborhood. And Vivian is sure his passionate pursuit is just a front for the prize Alonso Wright is really after—her beloved childhood home.
Alonso is committed to building a community-events center that will be a lasting monument to his grandfather’s memory. The only thing keeping him from fulfilling his dream is the compassionate, guarded beauty who refuses to negotiate. If he fails, Alonso stands to lose a significant investment. But once he gives in to his desire for Vivian, he could lose something far more precious. As a hurricane batters the North Carolina coast, an unscrupulous business associate threatens to derail Alonso’s future, which now means nothing without Vivian to share it with him...
Vivian’s breath seized in her chest from the sheer sincerity she witnessed in Alonso’s eyes. Swallowing hard, she did her best to retain some semblance of control.
“You’re afraid,” he continued. “You’re afraid of this thing we have going on.” He cradled her face between his hands. “This wild, insane, all-consuming energy we generate. You don’t trust it. You don’t trust it because you don’t trust me. But that’s okay. You will.”
“Always the businessman. Say what you need to to get what you want.”
“I want you. I want you,” he repeated as if she hadn’t heard him the first two times. “I’ve never wanted anything or anyone more. Tell me you don’t want me, too.”
“I don’t—”
“Liar. You want me just as much as I want you.”
His hands slid to her neck and he pulled her mouth closer to his, but instead of kissing her—something she shamelessly craved—he spoke in a gentle tone against her lips.
“You want me. You want me to kiss you until you’re breathless.”
“I don’t.” Though the longing in her tone suggested otherwise.
Dear Reader (#u48fe93d3-88f0-5217-824e-41c3dc2a6cef),
Thank you so much for purchasing my debut Harlequin Kimani Romance title, In the Market for Love. I’m superexcited for you to meet Alonso Wright and Vivian Moore. These two spark a flame that blazes a path toward happily-ever-after; however, there are a few bumps along the way.
Alonso doesn’t want to admit he’s met his match in Vivian, but she can turn his world upside down with a simple glance. Like most powerful men, Alonso believes money can buy anything. But Vivian will show him love is free.
Like the tagline says: every passion has its price.
I hope you enjoy Alonso and Vivian’s love story and that their journey toward happiness tickles your heart, touches your emotions and warms your soul.
Thank you for supporting me!
Love and light,
Joy
PS: I love hearing from readers. Email me at authorjoyavery@gmail.com.
In the Market for Love
Joy Avery
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
By day, JOY AVERY works as a customer-service assistant. By night, the North Carolina native travels to imaginary worlds, creating characters whose romantic journeys invariably end happily-ever-after.
Since she was a young girl growing up in Garner, Joy knew she wanted to write. Stumbling onto romance novels, she discovered her passion for love stories and instantly knew those were the type of stories she wanted to pen.
Joy is married with one child. When not writing, she enjoys reading, cake decorating, pretending to expertly play the piano, driving her husband insane and playing with her two dogs.
Dedicated to the dream.
Acknowledgments
To Marcus:
Thank you for your unwavering support and your patience and understanding when I switch into writerzilla mode.
To Avion:
Thank you for the random sticky notes of encouragement placed around my writing room.
To Paula, aka Lyla Dune:
Thank you for being an awesome critique partner.
To my readers, my tribe, my street team:
What can I say? You guys totally rock and totally roll. Your support is amazing! I appreciate each and every one of you. From the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU! Thank you for your support! Thank you for your wonderful emails and messages. Thank you for your encouragement. Thank you for believing in my love stories and sharing your love for Joy Avery romances with the world.
To my friends and family:
Thank you for your support!
Contents
Cover (#u9c37a523-033a-5b36-b790-e395b3dc3034)
Back Cover Text (#u661d39c2-caad-5e76-9e60-006f49bf5ee8)
Introduction (#ubc42fcfb-d894-517c-a616-da17a05061c3)
Dear Reader (#u17418951-4ba3-5379-8243-4588ac8c2202)
Title Page (#uf1356fc9-15f7-56ba-b7f1-7aa13f12fe6a)
About the Author (#u8ff46a11-3cc7-5013-84d2-e92dde30263a)
Dedication (#ufa4a76dc-65cd-5525-a196-9ff505b66597)
Chapter 1 (#u01fdbb8a-29c8-5ba0-abd7-c9e8693896c3)
Chapter 2 (#u26b5982c-6d12-5d7a-bf9d-fe0ea1ac262a)
Chapter 3 (#u6918737b-1934-5de9-a773-46c198493016)
Chapter 4 (#uf1585e0c-c50e-5df8-97c0-ddb1af6a3505)
Chapter 5 (#u2635676b-0440-52ab-84ea-77d233d0478d)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#u48fe93d3-88f0-5217-824e-41c3dc2a6cef)
Vivian Moore stood at the nurses’ station inside Raleigh’s Tender Hearts Memorial Hospital, where she’d worked for the past six years, pecking away at the tablet she’d been issued. The newly implemented “convenience” hadn’t turned out to be the inconvenience she’d originally assumed it would be, after all. A point for the home team.
Tuning out the beeping, chiming and chatter swirling around her, she focused on entering the vitals for her last patient of the day. The last patient of the day. The thought made her smile. Unfortunately, instead of going home, climbing into bed and sleeping for three days straight, she had to meet with a persistent real estate developer who couldn’t seem to take no for an answer over the phone. Hopefully, face-to-face will do the trick.
“Vi?”
Only one person ever addressed her by the shortened name—her best friend and fellow ER nurse, Tressa. Vivian turned to see Tressa hurrying toward her, jet-black locks bouncing with each step the petite woman took.
By the expression on Tressa’s soft brown face, she’d experienced the unexplainable. Vivian grew concerned. The last time Tressa donned such a look, she’d been socked in the jaw by a disgruntled patient. Well, she wasn’t crying. That was a good sign, right?
Vivian pushed her tablet aside. “What’s wrong?”
For a second or two, Tressa stood speechless but finally snapped out of her stupor. “I just saw him. And he is fine. I mean, capital-F fine.” Her eyes did a dreamy flutter. “And chocolate. Deliciously chocolate. Mmm.”
By him, Vivian had no doubt she referred to the drop-dead gorgeous man rumored to be roaming the halls earlier. Uninterested had been Vivian’s feeling, but if the man’s looks had the ability to render Tressa speechless—a task not easily accomplished—then maybe he just might be worthy of all the whispers that had burned through the halls like a wildfire.
Though initially apathetic, she had to admit she was a little curious, until an image of her trifling ex flashed in her head. Her jaw tightened at the mere thought of the man—dog—no-good bastard. If he’d taught her anything, it’d been to never trust a handsome face.
Adopting her previous state of disinterest, Vivian returned her attention to the tablet. But Tressa had other plans for her attention, hooking her arm around Vivian’s and venturing down the brightly lit corridor. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“I have work to do, Tress.”
“Trust me, this will be well worth the brief distraction.”
“I don’t—” Vivian stopped abruptly with Tressa directing her attention to the statue of a man several feet away, a cell phone pinned to his ear.
Vivian’s eyes raked over his well-put-together body. Six-three, two twenty-five. A calculated guess, but she would wager she was spot-on. His skin was as smooth and dark as the tempered chocolate used on a sinful-desserts show she’d watched earlier that week. Both stirred her hunger, but for totally different reasons.
“You were saying?”
If Vivian had to guess, Tressa was standing with her arms folded across her chest and a smirk on her face. Unfortunately gravity, the universe, lust—she didn’t know which—wouldn’t allow her to pull her eyes away from him to verify.
The way the navy blue suit pants fit his toned lower half, there could be no disputing they’d been custom tailored just for him. Allowing her eyes to roam a bit higher, she fixed on the mound that bulged at his biceps when he bent his arm to massage his neatly groomed beard with two long fingers.
Even with an obstructed view of what lay beneath the crisp blue-and-white pin-striped shirt, she had a good idea it could make her knees knock. Her gaze trailed over his wide shoulders. Never again would she look at suspenders as an old man’s accessory.
If by some foolish chance she’d forgotten it’d been close to a year since she’d had sex, the way her body was currently responding would have instantly reminded her. A searing heat—having nothing to do with the June temperature—blossomed in her cheeks, flowed down her body and settled right between her legs.
“Oh, my God, did you just moan?”
Tressa’s words snapped Vivian out of her trancelike stare. Vivian shifted toward Tressa. “No—” She cleared her throat. “No, I didn’t moan.” Had she? With her arms across her chest—just as Vivian had guessed—Tressa flashed her a do-I-look-dumb-to-you expression.
