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Cabin Fever
Jillian Burns
Let the fever burn…Fashion blogger Carly Pendleton figured the "Sexiest Average Joe" cruise winner would be, well, sexy. But up close, fireman Joe Tedesco is insanely good-looking. Still, with exactly one chance to prove herself to the cutthroat fashion industry, not even the hottest hot dude will make this frosty fashionista break a sweat… . Until she wakes in the middle of the night to discover Joe in her bed. They have nothing in common… except for a combustible chemistry that quickly turns delectable kisses into even more wicked nights. And when the cruise ends, so does the fling. But a fireman never runs from the heat - even if it means getting burned.
Let the fever burn…
Fashion blogger Carly Pendleton figured the “Sexiest Average Joe” cruise winner would be, well, sexy. But up close, fireman Joe Tedesco is insanely good-looking. Still, with exactly one chance to prove herself to the cutthroat fashion industry, not even the hottest hot dude will make this frosty fashionista break a sweat….
Until she wakes in the middle of the night to discover Joe in her bed.
They have nothing in common…except for a combustible chemistry that quickly turns delectable kisses into even more wicked nights. And when the cruise ends, so does the fling. But a fireman never runs from the heat—even if it means getting burned.
Joe remembered he’d switched rooms….
Bleary-eyed, he shook his head to clear it, and recalled the right number. Forty-seven-eighty-two.
That was it. The key card clicked and the door opened with ease.
Wow, he was more tired than he realized.
The king-size bed awaited. He shucked his jeans and tossed his shirt to the floor, crawled onto the soft mattress and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Still, even in his dreams he couldn’t get Carly out of his mind. The piercing blue eyes, the sexy curves.
Her spicy scent filled his senses. He felt her soft breasts pushing against his back. In his dream he turned over and wrapped his arms around her hot body. It seemed so real that he could’ve sworn he could feel the silky material of her top. He nuzzled into a sweet neck, pressed a kiss to her delicate skin and heard her moan.
He stilled. Forced his heavy lids to open. And looked right into the wide-open eyes of Carly…
Dear Reader (#ulink_d93ac3bf-2895-55be-aeb2-fbc682fb5a2b),
I’ve been intrigued with the “wrong bed” concept in romance novels for a long time. And I wanted to see if I could write one that was believable. The key ingredient to making two people end up in the same bed by mistake seemed to me to be two bedrooms that looked exactly alike. I immediately thought of the cruise my family and I took. On the ship, every hallway on every deck looks exactly like the others, and every cabin, too. Perfect. And what more romantic setting could there be than the lush islands of the Caribbean?
The next ingredient for this story was getting a laid-back firefighter to melt the hardened heart of a tough, ambitious New Yorker. And, of course, the key to every great romance is always love. Love to bring together two people who appear to have nothing in common. Love to heal a lonely childhood and a broken heart. Love to give two people the courage to forgive the past and make a fresh start.
I hope this Wrong Bed story works for you! Watch for the next two books in this series coming soon, and please check my website, www.jillianburns.com (http://www.jillianburns.com), for more info and excerpts. Here’s a hint: I’m researching Navy SEALs.
Happy reading!
Jillian Burns
Cabin Fever
Jillian Burns
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR (#ulink_c09b2071-a6ec-5a2e-ad1c-54212f083831)
JILLIAN BURNS fell in love while reading such classics as Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudice in her teens and has been reading romance novels ever since. She lives in Texas with her husband of twenty-five years and their three half-grown kids. She likes to think her emotional nature—sometimes referred to as moodiness by those closest to her—has found the perfect outlet in writing stories filled with passion and romance. She believes romance novels have the power to change lives with their message of eternal love and hope.
For my husband and partner of twenty-five years. You may not be “Mr. Romance,” but you are always there for me. And that’s true love.
A huge debt of gratitude goes to the usual suspects, without whom I could not produce even one chapter: Pam, Linda, Von, Barb and my editor, Kathryn Lye.
Contents
Cover (#u1c564006-4fb1-534b-b5a9-4ea417de70c2)
Back Cover Text (#u13074c51-ebaf-5246-96a4-ec3e3aac9b9b)
Introduction (#ud4ed5e2d-0e71-5fdf-8c76-38fed211e5b1)
Dear Reader (#u9da8bb25-8976-57f3-925f-036913d822cc)
Title Page (#u1f866f19-6cb4-500f-b0b7-c8cd523e4825)
About the Author (#u602d30a8-59f5-54d5-9842-5e6d544f8911)
Dedication (#uf21ef294-516a-5171-8454-0c6e8a2a6458)
Chapter 1 (#ue1b1a9c8-9a50-5ecc-97ab-cf9d3ece5ef4)
Chapter 2 (#u46c530dc-1b30-57ba-be0a-93f34ab471de)
Chapter 3 (#u4ca8b84d-ab74-5475-bcbe-50b1598cc4e3)
Chapter 4 (#u763dd93b-e895-5fbc-a507-f2d7c5225766)
Chapter 5 (#u3b6b448e-a1f6-50bb-af19-bcc47b583587)
Chapter 6 (#ueabac3f0-d7e2-5885-9bca-637babcddffb)
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)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
1 (#ulink_77782d7f-f6bd-51c4-b285-8ffb6b971a29)
“YOU’RE LYING, TEDESCO.”
Joe narrowed his eyes at his accuser, brought the can of root beer to his lips and took a long sip. “You’ll have to play to find out, Wakowski.”
Wakowski snarled and studied his dwindling pile of chips on the table in the fire station’s kitchen.
Joe tapped his fingers on his thigh. With his luck they’d get a call before he could lay down his cards.
“Come on, Wakowski,” Everman urged. “In this century.” Everman had already folded, as had Miller and Stockton. Joe maintained his poker face.
Wakowski narrowed his eyes. “You’re bluffing.” He shoved all his remaining chips into the center of the table.
Joe grinned and revealed his Queen-high heart flush. “Read ’em and weep.”
The guys whooped and hollered and thudded Joe on the back. Wakowski cursed and pitched his cards down. “You’re a real scootch, you know dat?”
Joe grinned and began gathering up his winnings. His cell buzzed and he grabbed it off the table. At two on a Saturday afternoon it was probably his mother calling to make sure he was coming to the family dinner tomorrow. He checked the caller ID, but he didn’t recognize the number. He hesitated answering. If one of his sisters had set him up with one of their friends again...
Knowing he’d regret it, he punched the answer button. “Tedesco.”
“Mr. Joe Tedesco, of Brooklyn, New York?”
Great. Were telemarketers allowed to call cell phones now? “Uh...yeah?”
“This is Carly’s Couture calling about your entry in The Sexiest Average Joe contest and I’m thrilled to tell you that you are our winner!”
Joe blinked. Contest? Sexiest what? Wait a minute... He grinned at his fellow firemen sitting around the station house table. “Good one, guys.” He spoke into the phone. “So, I won, huh? What’d I win? A hot and heavy night with you, sweetheart?”
“Excuse me?”
Joe winced. The sleet falling outside was no match for the ice in this woman’s voice. If this was a prank, she was really good. “Uh, hold on a sec.” He held the phone to his chest. “Okay, you guys, you might as well fess up. I’m not falling for it.”
All four of his buddies gave him a confused look. Not good. He put the phone back to his ear. “Who’d you say you were again?”
“Carly Pendleton, with Carly’s Couture. I have a fashion blog for the average man and woman, and Modiste magazine cosponsored the national contest searching for the Sexiest Average Joe.”
Fashion blog? Wait. Modiste? Wasn’t that the fancy magazine his sisters were always reading, with all the makeover contests and quizzes on how to please a guy in bed? Alarm bells clanged and they weren’t coming from the firehouse. Joe stood and paced from the kitchen into the common area.
“Mr. Tedesco? Are you there?”
He barely heard her voice. Her previous words kept echoing in his mind. Contest. Modiste magazine. What had his sisters done now?
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m here.” Maybe he should think positive. Maybe he’d won a big-screen TV or a year’s supply of beer.
“—and the cruise leaves on Monday. I’ll have your boarding pass and a car will pick you up at your residence at 7:00 a.m. The flight to Miami departs at ten. The ship sails at four. Now, your entry form said you already have a passport?”
“Wait a minute. I won a cruise?” That could be fun.
“Five days and four nights to the Caribbean. Of course, that’s where we’ll be doing the photo shoot.”
“Photo shoot?”
The woman mumbled a request to save her from idiots. “You did read all the details of the contest before entering, didn’t you, Mr. Tedesco?”
He clenched his teeth. “It’s Joe. Mr. Tedesco is my father.”
“Okay. In case you need reminding, Joe, the photo shoot is the reason for the cruise. My blog will feature the Sexiest Average Joe wearing Carly’s Couture clothing choices and posing with a beautiful supermodel in exotic locales. You could end up with a lucrative modeling career, Mr. Tedesco. Maybe even become famous.”
Famous? If he’d wanted money and fame he would’ve signed the contract offer his sophomore year. He sure as hell wasn’t posing for some magazine like one of those pretty boys strutting around in their underwear. No, thanks. “Look, lady, I can’t just take off work at a moment’s notice.”
“Mr. Te—Joe. I promise the shoot won’t take all your time. There’ll be excursions and nightlife and we even provide you fifty dollars’ worth of chips at the ship’s casino.”
“You could offer me a thousand dollars in chips and I still wouldn’t be posing for some women’s magazine, especially not for some sexiest-man photos.”
“Oh, ho! Sexiest man?” called Everman.
Joe swiveled to find his fellow firemen gathered around him.
“Whoa, Mr. Sexy, huh?” Miller mocked.
Wakowski locked his hands behind his head and wiggled his hips. “Oooh, Sexy Joey.”
Joe shut them down with a scowl and an obscene hand gesture.
A split second of silence on the other end of the line suggested that the lady had heard the background commotion. “Look, Mr. Tedesco. When you signed the entry form you agreed to all the terms and conditions of the contest.”
Joe balled his free hand into a fist. “I didn’t sign anything. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Really? Then, whoever did sign your name on the entry forms could be prosecuted for forgery.”
“Now hold on a minute.” His sisters were going to pay for this. The entry had to be their doing. He couldn’t see any of the guys here at the station risking his wrath. Or ever reading Modiste magazine for that matter. But he couldn’t let Donna-Marie and Rosalie be brought up on charges. He sighed. The chief had been nagging him to take some of his vacation....
