From Enemies To Expecting. Kat CantrellЧитать онлайн книгу.
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Winning is nonnegotiable...and so is parenthood!
Marketing exec Trinity Forrester needs PR buzz. By-the-books baseball tycoon Logan McLaughlin needs ticket sales. Their plan is simple: embark on a pretend romance to boost publicity. But soon their reality-show kisses lead to explosive off-camera lovemaking...
Trinity knows her fling with her frustratingly handsome costar ends when the cameras stop rolling—not with a diamond ring and proposal. But when their fake romance yields a very real pregnancy, will the emotionally guarded duo choose winning...or wedding?
Logan McLaughlin was perfection under her hands.
Trinity wanted more. And took it.
Tilting her head, she deepened the kiss and he countered instantly, swirling his tongue forward to find hers, heightening the roar of hunger pounding through her veins. His mouth. God, the things it was doing to her. The things it could do.
And then all at once, his lips disappeared and she swayed forward, desperate to get them back on hers. Instead, he leaned in and nuzzled her ear.
“How’d I do?” he murmured. “Close enough to what you were going for?”
Trinity laughed, because what else could she do? “Yeah. That was perfect.”
He’d been on to her scheme the entire time. Of course. What had she thought, that a man with commitment and white picket fences written all over him might actually go for a woman like her, who’d turned her independence into a shield? That he’d been as into the kiss as she had, almost forgetting it wasn’t real?
Never in a million years would they make sense together—unless it was fake.
This was a great place for goodbye. But for some reason, Trinity was having a very difficult time taking her hands off her partner.
* * *
From Enemies to Expecting
is part of the Love and Lipstick series—For four female executives, mixing business with pleasure leads to love!
From Enemies to Expecting
Kat Cantrell
USA TODAY bestselling author KAT CANTRELL read her first Mills & Boon novel in third grade and has been scribbling in notebooks since she learned to spell. She’s a Mills & Boon So You Think You Can Write winner and a Romance Writers of America Golden Heart® Award finalist. Kat, her husband and their two boys live in North Texas.
Contents
Logan McLaughlin hated losing. So of course the fates had gifted him with the worst team in the history of major league baseball. Losing had become an art form, one the Dallas Mustangs seemed determined to master. Short of cleaning house and starting over with a new roster, Logan had run out of ideas to help his ball club out of their slump.
Being the team’s owner and general manager should be right up his alley. Logan’s dad had run a billion-dollar company with ease and finesse for thirty years. Surely Logan had inherited a little of Duncan McLaughlin’s business prowess along with a love of baseball and his dad’s dot-com fortune?
Ticket sales for the Mustangs’ home games said otherwise. A losing streak a mile long was the only reason Logan had agreed to the ridiculous idea his publicist had put forth, otherwise, he’d never have darkened the door of a reality game show. As last-ditch efforts went, this one took the cake.
But, as his publicist informed him, Logan had run out of charity golf tournaments, and they hadn’t helped drive ticket sales anyway. Short of winning games—which he was working on, via some intricate and slow trade agreements—he needed to get public support for his team another way. Now.
Exec-ution’s set teemed with people. Logan stood in the corner nursing a cup of very bad coffee because it was that or rip off someone’s head due to caffeine withdrawal. He should have stopped at Starbucks on the way to the studio, but who would have thought that an outfit that asked its contestants to be on the set at 5:00 a.m. wouldn’t have decent coffee? He was stuck in hell with crap in a cup.
“Logan McLaughlin.” A pretty staffer with an iPad in the crook of her elbow let her gaze flit over the other contestants until she zeroed in on him standing well out of the fray. “Care to take a seat? We’re about to begin filming.”
“No, thanks. I’ll stand,” he declined smoothly with a ready smile to counter his refusal.
Chairs were for small people; at six-four, 220, Logan hadn’t fit in most chairs since eleventh grade. Plus, he liked being able to see the big picture at a glance.
A soft-looking middle-aged man in a suit nodded at Logan. “Thought I recognized you. I’m a Yankees fan from way back. Used to watch you pitch, what, ten years ago?”
“Something like that,” Logan agreed easily.
The Yankees had let him go eight years ago, but who was counting when the career he’d poured his heart and soul into ended in a failed Tommy John surgery? His elbow still ached occasionally, just in case he didn’t have enough reminders that his days on the mound were over.
“Man,