Kiss and Tell
Three California tech siblings find themselves mixing business with a whole lot of pleasure…
“A thoroughly enjoyable romance with a delightful couple!”
EXCERPT from His Forbidden Kiss
He bent to pull a bottle of Old Vine Zinfandel from its home in the wine rack and admired the sleek black bottle with the pewter emblem on the neck. His house, normally welcoming and quiet, felt like a soundproof cocoon. He was happy but had no one to celebrate with—he couldn’t call up Gia or Bran—so he was stuck with his own company.
Keeping secrets from his siblings didn’t sit well with him, though he understood his parents’ motivations. They needed to tell Gia and Bran in their own time and in their own way. Royce respected that. He opened the bottle and poured a few inches of the red into a wineglass.
Unsure what to do with himself, he flipped on a table lamp and sat on the new-but-made-to-look-worn leather sofa. Strumming his fingers on his knees, he spotted the remote for the fireplace. In the click of a button flames flickered to life. Wine in hand, he sipped, struck by how odd it was to sit here without work in front of him. He set the wineglass aside, lifted a magazine off the table, also left in place by his housekeeper, and idly flipped through it before setting it aside as well.
He grunted what might’ve been a laugh. His father was right. Royce really didn’t know how to unwind.
The doorbell chimed and he jumped off the couch, almost embarrassingly eager to invite whomever it was inside. Even if it was one of his siblings, he could still share a glass of wine if not the reason behind it. Shared wine with company was a hell of a lot better than sitting here alone.
The black-and-white security screen in the kitchen showed a woman standing on his front porch but she was too tall to be Gia. He leaned in for a closer look.
“Taylor?” His first thought was that something awful had happened. Why else would she stop by unannounced? His second thought, after he’d yanked the door open, was that she was at the wrong house.
Her tiny trench coat was belted in the middle and hiding what he guessed was a very short dress. Her legs were smooth and tan, ending in a tall, spiked pair of heels. Her hair was slightly wavy, the same way it’d looked at the office except… Bouncier.
Turned out he’d have someone to celebrate with after all.
Be practical. Practicality came as naturally as breathing for him.
But it wasn’t easy to be practical with Taylor in front of him looking like sex in stilettos. She teetered, those tall spindles nestled in the crooks of his cobblestone porch. The shoes were black and wrapped enticingly at her ankles by delicate straps with tiny gold buckles. Those delicate straps led to shapely calves, cute knees and up, up to a pair of plush thighs.
An eager part of his anatomy gave a peppy jerk. He warned himself to stop staring—to be practical—but as in his office this afternoon, he was incapable of either.
His eyes reached the short, white, belted coat with big black buttons and continued to dark blond hair framing her beautiful face. A staggeringly gorgeous face. A face he’d have sworn to his brother before last weekend was passably pretty.
A lie.
Taylor, with her slightly parted, full lips, high cheekbones dusted pink and long black lashes shielding shimmering brown eyes wasn’t “passably” anything.
She was an absolute knockout.
. . .
