скачать книгу бесплатно
Santa Wore Leathers: The sexiest firefighter Christmas romance of the year!
Vonnie Davis
A perfect holiday treat for fans of Lori Wilde, Jennifer Ryan and Penelope Bloom!Take one man-shy reporter, a gorgeous ex-Navy SEAL turned firefighter, add in a thong-stealing dog… and Christmas will never be the same again!There’s only one thing on Becca Sinclair’s Christmas list this holiday season – her very own column in the local paper. And if she can build a huge blog following, her wish just might come true.Enter Dan ‘Wolf’ Wolford aka the man-whore next door and the new star of Becca’s popular, post-divorce blog about men. A Navy SEAL turned commander of the Florida Marine Rescue Unit, Wolf’s the very definition of the word alpha – and with an endless rotation of women on his doorstep, this hunk on a Harley has Becca and her female followers all hot and bothered!All Becca wants for Christmas is her newspaper column, right? But when she finds herself the target of Wolf’s irresistible attentions, her snarky comebacks become less and less convincing and, suddenly, she’s not so sure anymore…Praise for Santa Wore Leathers:“This is the first book I’ve read by Vonnie Davis and I can assure you it won’t be the last.” – HarlequinJunkie“What Vonnie Davis has managed to pack into her fairly short book was so freaking good that as soon as I've posted this review I'm going straight back to start it all over again.” – Tina Hart, Goodreads Reviewer“Vonnie Davis’s writing is tender, witty and beautiful.”Siren Book Reviews“Vonnie Davis knows romance!” Night Owl Reviews
Santa Wore Leathers
VONNIE DAVIS
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
HarperImpulse an imprint of
HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2013
Copyright © Vonnie Davis 2013
Cover images © Shutterstock.com
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2013
Cover design by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
Vonnie Davis asserts the moral right
to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is
available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are
the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is
entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International
and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.
By payment of the required fees, you have been granted
the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access
and read the text of this e-book on screen.
No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted,
downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or
stored in or introduced into any information storage and
retrieval system, in any form or by any means,
whether electronic or mechanical, now known or
hereinafter invented, without the express
written permission of HarperCollins.
Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.
Ebook Edition © November 2015 ISBN: 9780007555314
Version 2015-11-26
Praise for Vonnie Davis (#uf488b9af-e68b-5543-9556-ead914fa2187)
'This is the first book I’ve read by Vonnie Davis and I can assure you it won’t be the last'
Harlequin Junkie
'A fun and frivolous festive romance'
Book Chick City
'A lovely, sweet, funny, sexy story. Perfect holiday read.'
Sizzling Pages Romance Reviews
'A sexy, feel good romance'
Jane Hunt Writer Reviews
'Ms. Davis has a way with the pen and I look forward to reading WAY more books from her!'
More Books Please
'A mega entertaining, sexy romance!'
Reading Between the Wines Book Club
To my awesome critique partners, AJ Nuest and Rachel Brimble, fabulous authors who point out when I’ve used the same phrase three times on the same page and remind me a participle looks nasty when it dangles. Thanks for your patience, my darlings.
Contents
Cover (#u623bf376-daaa-5183-b742-77a64417d593)
Title Page (#uc7eee849-fc7e-5f17-a004-a38ae8f15c6e)
Copyright (#ue301f8c2-17d6-5a6e-bdf0-a8d0d177e1e7)
Praise for Vonnie Davis (#uface44b2-c7dd-5fd7-b5fb-49ffbc99b227)
Dedication (#u8f145d42-8d4f-5e90-89b5-7817708f3fe7)
Chapter 1 (#ue89fc2e9-53ff-5b52-b0e1-af4d4f6f06c0)
Chapter 2 (#ued025a61-d212-53eb-a4da-e6a85f450169)
Chapter 3 (#u221fa341-7089-54f6-95d2-f6936d991f45)
Chapter 4 (#u0c7e6d85-5164-51d5-8d58-bab545e72e4b)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
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)
Bonus Material (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER 1 (#litres_trial_promo)
Also by Vonnie Davis … (#litres_trial_promo)
Vonnie Davis (#litres_trial_promo)
About HarperImpulse (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#uf488b9af-e68b-5543-9556-ead914fa2187)
My new neighbor is a man-whore.
Becca Sinclair peered through the window of her townhouse, her fingertips flying over the keyboard. This new post on her “The Things Men Do” blog would definitely entertain her twelve hundred followers. Comments would amass and maybe, if she were lucky, she’d increase her audience.
Marshall, her editor at the Clearwater Daily, had dangled the incentive of giving her a weekly column, but only if she secured fifteen hundred followers. The poor schmuck had no idea how determined she was. Or how much women loved reading her comical, often snarky, take on the male gender.
With her desk positioned in front of the bay window in her living room, she had a great view of the goings-on in her neighborhood. This secluded vantage point had birthed many well-read posts. She raised her tiny espresso cup to her lips, inhaled its strong aroma as she sipped and read over her first paragraph on the screen.
About an hour ago, a brunette showed up at his front door carrying a box of Krispy Kremes. Just now, a blonde parked her red car behind the silver compact of woman number one. Before woman number two’s stilettos hit the pavement, shirtless man-whore jogged out of his townhouse to greet her, no doubt in an attempt to head her off at the pass. Pardon the cliché, sistahs, but men ARE so clichéd, are they not?
Becca’s gaze swept from her monitor to her neighbor and the blonde talking on the sidewalk. Man-whore must lift weights in his sleep to get a build like that. How hard would his muscles feel if she ran her hands over them? Dismissing her thought with an eye roll, she allowed her perusal to continue. Like most Floridians, he had a deep tan which, when combined with his sculptured muscles, presented a very potent male package. If she were one to notice, which she was not.
His hair was dark and straight, brushing his shoulders. When he turned, revealing his chest, there was a very nice treasure trail leading to jeans riding low on his hips. The two people moved and Becca began typing again.
The blonde gushed as she handed him a foil-covered pan. My randy neighbor peeled back the cover, swiped a finger over whatever she’d made and stuck his digit in his mouth. With the pan tucked to his muscled chest like a football, he deigned to give her a hug before she drove off.
By the time he turned and walked to his front door, he’d eaten two pastries. Evidently he’s a man-whore with a huge appetite.
Becca finished her post and closed her laptop. “Einstein, are you ready for your walk?” Her German shepherd barked once in response and circled her twice. “Get your leash while I put on my shoes.”
Einstein slipped his rope off the doorknob and carried it to her, his head held proudly and his backside wiggling in anticipation of their morning run. Becca tied her sneakers and did a few quick stretches before snapping the leash onto the dog’s collar.
Two miles later they returned to Seashell Lane, jogging toward home in her gulf-side community on the northern fringes of Clearwater, Florida. She loved her neighborhood; a comfortable blend of retirees and small families. At least, it had been, until two weeks ago, when her new neighbor, with his constant stream of female visitors, moved in. Her gaze swept to the townhouse next to hers. The man went through women quicker than her ex-husband.
Just then his door opened, and man-whore stepped out on his small front porch. In a purely feminine reaction, she reached to smooth back her hair. Suddenly, Einstein wrenched his leash from her grip and took off.
“Einstein! Einstein, stop!” She sprinted after her errant dog.
Her neighbor pivoted. Einstein leaped, knocking him back against the door. “Whoa there, big guy!” He accepted the canine kisses and aimed dark eyes at her. “Is he yours? He’s some dog.” His large hands ruffled Einstein’s fur. Firm biceps flexed under her neighbor’s black Harley T-shirt, and the bottom of a wicked tribal tattoo peeked from beneath his right sleeve.
“Yes. I’m sorry he jumped on you. He never takes off like that.” No doubt one dog recognizes another.
“Man, I’d love a dog like him. A man’s dog, you know? I’ve got a cat. Not by choice, though. When my sister went off to college, she left Fluffy with me.”
Man-whore aimed a wide smile at her, his perfectly straight teeth a contrast to his tan. A dimple winked. The fact he only had one dimple was the singular flaw on his flawlessly handsome face. Now that she was within five feet of him, she could clearly examine his features. Having watched him through her window from time to time, she knew he was tall and muscular. But up close, she realized he had the body of a serious weight lifter. His long, dark-brown hair was brushed straight back. The skin crinkled at the corners of espresso-colored eyes when he smiled, which he seemed to do easily and frequently. Yet, it was the vision of him holding a cat named Fluffy that nearly made her smile. Muscle man and putty cat.
“You live next door, don’t you?” He jerked his head toward her home.
