Anything but Vanilla... [NOOK Book]

Overview

The most distracting boss of all…

For driven businessman Luke Savage success is the only option. So when gorgeous marketing intern Jess Sherwood waltzes into his office and casually informs him that his newly inherited vineyard has an image problem he's outraged! She's naive, overly ambitious, a know-it-all… And all Luke can do to stop her talking is kiss her senseless.

...

See more details below
Anything but Vanilla...

Available on NOOK devices and apps  
  • NOOK Devices
  • NOOK HD/HD+ Tablet
  • NOOK
  • NOOK Color
  • NOOK Tablet
  • Tablet/Phone
  • NOOK for Windows 8 Tablet
  • NOOK for iOS
  • NOOK for Android
  • NOOK Kids for iPad
  • PC/Mac
  • NOOK for Windows 8
  • NOOK for PC
  • NOOK for Mac
  • NOOK Study
  • NOOK for Web

Want a NOOK? Explore Now

NOOK Book (eBook - Original)
$1.99
BN.com price

Overview

The most distracting boss of all…

For driven businessman Luke Savage success is the only option. So when gorgeous marketing intern Jess Sherwood waltzes into his office and casually informs him that his newly inherited vineyard has an image problem he's outraged! She's naive, overly ambitious, a know-it-all… And all Luke can do to stop her talking is kiss her senseless.

Eight years later the vineyard needs a boost—and Luke needs a hip new marketing strategy to save it. Jess may drive him crazy but she's the right woman for the job. Their only problem is how to keep their minds on work and off that kiss!

Read More Show Less

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781459255807
  • Publisher: Harlequin
  • Publication date: 10/15/2013
  • Sold by: Barnes & Noble
  • Format: eBook
  • Edition description: Original
  • Pages: 224
  • Sales rank: 156,095
  • File size: 583 KB

Meet the Author


Liz Fielding was born with itchy feet. She made it to Zambia before her twenty-first birthday and, gathering her own special hero and a couple of children on the way, lived in Botswana, Kenya and Bahrain. Seven of her titles have been nominated for RWA’s Rita®; and she has won the Best Traditional Romance in 2000, the British Romance Prize in 2005 and the Best Short Contemporary Romance in 2006.

Read More Show Less

Read an Excerpt

'Hello? Shop?'

Alexander West ignored the rapping on the shop door, the call for attention. The closed sign was up; Knickerbocker Gloria was out of business. End of story.

The accounts were a mess, the petty cash tin contained nothing but paper clips and he'd found a pile of unopened bills in the bottom drawer of the desk. All the classic signs of a small business going down the pan and Ria, with her fingers in her ears, singing la-la-la as the creditors closed in.

It was probably one of them at the door now. Some poor woman whose own cash flow was about to hit the skids hoping to catch her with some loose change in the till, which was why this wouldn't wait.

He topped up his mug with coffee, eased the ache in his shoulder and set about dealing with the pile of unopened bills.

There was no point in getting mad at Ria. This was his fault.

She'd promised him that she'd be more organised, not let things get out of hand. He was so sure that she'd learned her lesson, but maybe he'd just allowed himself to be convinced simply because he wanted it to be true.

She tried, he knew she did, and everything would be fine for a while, but then she'd hear something, see something and it would trigger her depression…get her hopes up. Then, when they were dashed, she'd be ignoring everything, especially the scary brown envelopes. It didn't take long for a business to go off the rails.

'Ria?'

He frowned. It was the same voice, but whoever it belonged to was no longer outside—

'I've come to pick up the Jefferson order,' she called out. 'Don't disturb yourself if you're busy. I can find it.'

—but inside, and helping herself to the stock.

He hauled himself out of the chair, took a short cut across the preparation room—scrubbed, gleaming and ready for a new day that was never going to come—and pushed open the door to the stockroom.

All he could see of the 'voice' was a pair of long, satin-smooth legs and a short skirt that rode up her thighs and stretched across a neat handful of backside. It was an unexpected pleasure in what was a very bad day and, in no hurry to halt her raid on the freezer, he leaned against the door making the most of the view.

She muttered something and reached further into its depths, balancing on one toe while extending the other towards him as if inviting him to admire the black suede shoe clinging to a long, slender foot. A high-heeled black suede shoe, cut away at the side and with a saucy bow on the toe. Very expensive, very sexy and designed to display a foot, an ankle, to perfection. He dutifully admired the ankle, the leg, a teasing glimpse of lace—that skirt was criminally short—and several inches of bare flesh where her top had slithered forward, at his leisure.

The combination of long legs and dark red skirt, sandwiched between cream silk and lace, reminded him of a cone filled with Ria's home-made raspberry ripple ice cream. It had been a while since he'd been within touching distance of temptation but now, recalling that perfect mix of fresh tangy fruit and creamy sweetness, he contemplated the idea of scooping her up and running his tongue along the narrow gap of golden skin at her waist.

'I've got the strawberry and cream gelato and the cupcakes, Ria.' Her voice, sexily breathless as she shifted containers, echoed from the depths of the freezer. 'And I've found the bread and honey ice cream. But there's no Earl Grey granita, champagne sorbet or cucumber ice cream.'

Cucumber ice cream?

No wonder Ria was in trouble.

He took a final, appreciative look at the endless legs and, calling the hormones to heel, said, 'If it's not there, then I'm sorry, you're out of luck.'

Sorrel Amery froze.

Metaphorically as well as literally. With her head deep in the freezer and nothing but a strappy silk camisole between her and frozen to death, she was already feeling the chill, but either Ria had the worst sore throat in history, or that was—

She hauled herself out of its chilly depths and turned round.

—not Ria.

She instinctively ran her hands down the back of a skirt that her younger sister—with no appreciation of vintage fashion—had disparagingly dismissed as little more than a pelmet. It was, however, too late for modesty and on the point of demanding who the hell the man leaning against the prep-room door thought he was, she decided against it.

Silence was, according to some old Greek, a woman's best garment and, while it was not a notion she would generally subscribe to, hot blue eyes above a grin so wide that it would struggle to make it through the door were evidence enough that he'd been filling his boots with the view.

Whoever he was, she wasn't about to make his day by going all girly about it.

'Out of luck? What do mean, out of luck?' she demanded. 'Where's Ria?' Brisk and businesslike were her first line of defence in the face of a sexy male who thought all he had to do was smile and she'd be putty in his hands.

So wrong—although the hand propping him up against the door frame had a workmanlike appearance: strong, broad and with deliciously long fingers that looked as if they'd know exactly what to do with putty…

She shivered a little and the grin twitched at the corner of his mouth, suggesting that he knew exactly what she was thinking.

Wrong again.

She was just cold. Really. She hadn't stopped to put on the cute, boxy little jacket that completed her ensemble. This wasn't a business meeting, but a quick in-and-out pick-up of stock.

While the jacket wouldn't have done anything for her legs, it would have covered her shoulders and kept her warm. And when she was wearing a suit, no matter how short the skirt, she felt in control. Important when you were young and female and battling to be taken seriously in a world that was, mostly, dominated by men.

In suits.

But she didn't have to impress Ria and hadn't anticipated the freezer diving. Or the audience.

The man lounging against the door frame clearly didn't feel the need for armour of any kind, beyond the heavy stubble on his chin and thick brown hair that brushed his shoulders and flopped untidily around his face.

No suit for him. No jacket. Just a washed-out T-shirt stretched across wide shoulders, and a pair of shabby jeans moulded over powerful thighs. The sun streaks that brightened his hair—and the kind of skin-deep tan that you didn't get from two weeks on a beach—only confirmed the impression that he didn't believe in wasting his time slaving over a hot desk, although the suggestion of bags under his eyes did suggest a heavy night-life.

'Ria's not here.' His voice, low and gravelly, lazy as his stance, vibrated softly against her breastbone, as if he'd reached out and grazed his knuckles slowly along its length. It stole her breath, circling softly before settling low in her belly and draining the strength from her legs. 'I'm taking care of things.'

She fumbled for the edge of the freezer, grasping it for support. 'Oh? And you are?' she asked, going for her 'woman in command of her environment' voice and falling miserably short. Fortunately, he didn't know that. As far as he knew, she always talked in that weirdly breathy way.

'Alexander West.'

She blinked. 'You're the postcard man?'

'The what?' It was his turn to look confused, although, since he was already leaning against the door, he didn't need propping up.

'The postcard man,' she repeated, desperately wishing she'd kept her mouth shut, but the nickname had been startled out of her. For one thing he was younger than she'd expected. Really. Quite a lot younger. Ria wore her age well, but wasn't coy about it, describing her fortieth birthday as a moment of 'corset-loosening' liberation. Not that she'd ever needed a corset, or would have worn one if she had. 'That's what Nancy calls you,' she explained, in an attempt to distance herself from her surprised reaction. 'Ria's assistant? You send her postcards.'

'I send postcards to Nancy?' he asked, the teasing gleam in his eyes suggesting that he was perfectly aware of her discomfort and the reason for it.

'To Ria. Very occasionally,' she added. Having regained a modicum of control over her vocal cords, if nothing else, she wanted him to know that she wasn't impressed by him or his teasing.

It wasn't the frequency of their arrival that made the postcards memorable, but their effect. She'd once found Ria clutching one to her breast, tears running down her cheeks. She'd waved away her concern, claiming that it was hay fever. In November.

Only a lover, or a child, could evoke that kind of response. Alexander West was a lot younger than she'd expected, but he wasn't young enough to be her son, which left only one possibility, although in this instance it was a lover who was notable only by his absence. His cards, when they did arrive, were mostly of long white tropical beaches fringed with palm trees. The kind that evoked Hollywood-style dreams of exotic cocktails and barefoot walks along the edge of the shore with someone who looked just like Mr Postcard. Sitting at home in May-bridge, it was scarcely any wonder Ria was weeping.

'Once in a blue moon,' she added, in case he hadn't got the message.

Sorrel knew all about the kind of travelling man who took advantage of a warm-hearted woman before moving on, leaving her to pick up the pieces and carry on with her life. Her own father had been that kind of man, although he had never bothered with even the most occasional postcard. Forget moons—blue or any other colour—his visit was on the astronomical scale of Hal-ley's Comet. Once in a lifetime.

'A little more frequently than that, I believe,' he replied. 'Or were you using the term as a figure of speech rather than an astronomical event?' Fortunately, the question was rhetorical because, without waiting for an answer, he added, 'I'm not often in the vicinity of a post office.'

'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she said, making an effort to get a grip, put some stiffeners in her knees.

Not at all.

'I'm glad to hear it.' West let go of the door and every cell in her body gave a little jump—of nervousness, excitement, anticipation—but he was only settling himself more comfortably, leaning his shoulder against the frame, crossing strong, sinewy arms and putting a dangerous strain on the stitches holding his T-shirt together.

'I thought perhaps you were attempting to make a point of some kind.'

'What?' Sorrel realised that she was holding her breath… 'No,' she said, unable to look away as one of the stitches popped, then another, and the seam parted to reveal a glimpse of the golden flesh beneath. She swallowed. Hard. 'The frequency of your correspondence is none of my business.'

'I know that, but I was beginning to wonder if you did.' The gleam intensified and without warning she was feeling anything but cold. Her head might be saying, 'He is so not your type.' She did not do lust at first sight.

Her body wasn't listening.

It had tuned out her brain and was reaching out to him with fluttery little 'touch me' appeals from her pulse points, the tight betraying peaks of her breasts poking against the thin silk.

No, no, no, no, no!

She swallowed, straightened her spine, hoping that he'd put that down to the cold air swirling up from the open freezer. She continued to cling to it, not for support, but to stop herself from taking a step closer. Flinging herself at him. That was what her mother, who'd made a life's work of lust at first sight and had three fatherless daughters to show for it, would have done.

Since the age of seventeen, when that legacy had come back to bite her and break her teenage heart, she had made a point of doing the opposite of whatever her mother would do in any circumstance that involved a man. Especially avoiding the kind of rough-hewn men who, it seemed, could turn her head with a glance.

Sorrel had no idea what had brought Alexander West back to Maybridge, but from her own reaction it was obvious that his arrival was going to send Ria into a meltdown tizzy. Worse, it would cause no end of havoc to the running of Knickerbocker Gloria, which was balanced on the edge of chaos at the best of times. The knock-on effect was going to be the disruption of the business she was working so hard to turn into a highend event brand.

Presumably Ria's absence this morning meant that she was having a long lie-in to recover from the enthusiastic welcome home she'd given the prodigal on his return.

He looked pretty shattered, too, come to think of it.

Sorrel slammed the door shut on the images that thought evoked. It was going to take a lot more than a pair of wide, here-today-gone-tomorrow shoulders to impress her.

Oh, yes.

While her friends had been dating, she'd had an early reality check on the value of romance and had focused on her future, choosing the prosaic Business Management degree and vowing that she'd be a millionaire by the time she was twenty-five.

Any man who wanted her attention would have to match her in drive and ambition. He would also have to be well groomed, well dressed, focused on his career and, most important of all, stationary.

The first two could be fixed. The third would, inevitably, be a work in progress, but her entire life had been dominated by men who caused havoc when they were around and then disappeared leaving the women to pick up the pieces. The last was non-negotiable.

Alexander West struck out on every single point, she told herself as another stitch surrendered, producing a flutter of excitement just below her waist. Anticipation. Dangerous feelings that, before she knew it, could run out of control and wreck her lifeplan, no matter how firmly nailed down.

'What, exactly, are you doing here?' she demanded. If the cold air swirling around at her back wasn't enough to cool her down, all she had to do was remind herself that he belonged to Ria.

She was doing a pretty good job of cool and controlled, at least on the surface. Having faced down sceptical bank managers, sceptical marketing men and sceptical events organisers, she'd had plenty of practice keeping the surface calm even when her insides were churning. Right now hers felt as if a cloud of butterflies had moved in.

'That's none of your business, either.'

'Actually, it is. Ria supplies me with ice cream for my business and since she has apparently left you in charge for the day…' major stress on 'apparently' '…you should be aware that, while you are in a food-preparation area, you are required to wear a hat,' she continued, in an attempt to crush both him and the disturbing effect he and his worn-out seams were having on her concentration. 'And a white coat.'

A white coat would cover those shoulders and thighs and then she would be able to think straight.

'Since Knickerbocker Gloria is no longer in business,' he replied, 'that's not an issue.' Had he placed the slightest emphasis on knicker? He nodded in the direction of the cartons she had piled up on the table beside the freezer and said, 'If you'll be good enough to return the stock to the freezer, I'll see you off the premises.'

Read More Show Less

Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4
( 1 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(0)

4 Star

(1)

3 Star

(0)

2 Star

(0)

1 Star

(0)

Your Rating:

Your Name: Create a Pen Name or

Barnes & Noble.com Review Rules

Our reader reviews allow you to share your comments on titles you liked, or didn't, with others. By submitting an online review, you are representing to Barnes & Noble.com that all information contained in your review is original and accurate in all respects, and that the submission of such content by you and the posting of such content by Barnes & Noble.com does not and will not violate the rights of any third party. Please follow the rules below to help ensure that your review can be posted.

Reviews by Our Customers Under the Age of 13

We highly value and respect everyone's opinion concerning the titles we offer. However, we cannot allow persons under the age of 13 to have accounts at BN.com or to post customer reviews. Please see our Terms of Use for more details.

What to exclude from your review:

Please do not write about reviews, commentary, or information posted on the product page. If you see any errors in the information on the product page, please send us an email.

Reviews should not contain any of the following:

  • - HTML tags, profanity, obscenities, vulgarities, or comments that defame anyone
  • - Time-sensitive information such as tour dates, signings, lectures, etc.
  • - Single-word reviews. Other people will read your review to discover why you liked or didn't like the title. Be descriptive.
  • - Comments focusing on the author or that may ruin the ending for others
  • - Phone numbers, addresses, URLs
  • - Pricing and availability information or alternative ordering information
  • - Advertisements or commercial solicitation

Reminder:

  • - By submitting a review, you grant to Barnes & Noble.com and its sublicensees the royalty-free, perpetual, irrevocable right and license to use the review in accordance with the Barnes & Noble.com Terms of Use.
  • - Barnes & Noble.com reserves the right not to post any review -- particularly those that do not follow the terms and conditions of these Rules. Barnes & Noble.com also reserves the right to remove any review at any time without notice.
  • - See Terms of Use for other conditions and disclaimers.
Search for Products You'd Like to Recommend

Recommend other products that relate to your review. Just search for them below and share!

Create a Pen Name

Your Pen Name is your unique identity on BN.com. It will appear on the reviews you write and other website activities. Your Pen Name cannot be edited, changed or deleted once submitted.

 
Your Pen Name can be any combination of alphanumeric characters (plus - and _), and must be at least two characters long.

Continue Anonymously
Sort by: Showing 1 Customer Reviews
  • Posted May 26, 2013

    more from this reviewer

    3.5 Star Review:.......... Sorrell has a life/business plan - to

    3.5 Star Review:.......... Sorrell has a life/business plan - to make her and her sisters' business a huge success, to be a millionaire by the time she's 25, and to settle down with a stable man even if he isn't very exciting or doesn't light her torch!  Her plans have to adjust dramatically when the woman (Ria) who helps her flavor her ice creams and supplies her with them, suddenly disappears the day before an important event for Sorrell - one that could make or break Scoop!  In Ria's place is Alexander, a somewhat mysterious man who shows up to clean up the mess Ria has made of the business, sell or close it, and be on his way again.  He does not expect to find a hot lady digging through the freezer!
     
    Sorrell has no idea what Alexander's relationship with Ria is, but she is immediately drawn to him.  However, he is definitely not a candidate for her perfect man list...he can not be checked into any of her boxes!  She is determined she will settle with someone reliable and stable...no one like Alexander who she knows does not settle and will be leaving again as soon as he gets the business taken care of.  Most importantly though, she needs to push aside how he makes her feel and concentrate on convincing him to let her run the business for a month and possibly buy it from him.
     
    As Sorrell spends more time around Alexander she feels more and more free, enjoying life as it comes, doing what is good for her and her business, not how anyone else tells her what to do.  She starts to realize everything and everyone can't be put neatly into a box she can check off.  She is now determined to enjoy the time she does have with Alexander before he leaves...and it takes them a while, but enjoy she does!  Will it be that easy for either of them to just let go and move on when Alex leaves?  Can Sorrell keep her heart out of this?  Both Alexander and Sorrell have issues from their childhood that are holding them back...will they deal with these?  A relationship might not be possible between them since with Alex's job he is often far away in remote areas for long periods, but can they take what they have right now and be happy with just that?
     
    I liked Sorrell, even if I thought she was way to rigid in her expectations and life plan (until Alex came along!).  Her relationship with Graeme was a bit odd and I didn't like how she was always trying to please him and not herself!  I did like reading a bit about her family as the book moved along and how they all fit together.  I really liked Alex!  Sorrell thinks he's colder than he is (at least at first!), but with her around he warms up fast!  I like how he makes her think outside of her check boxes, and he is also honest with her from the start about what to expect or not expect from him.  I also liked getting to Ria, who she was to Alex, and how much both Alex and Sorrell cared about her.
     
    Anything But Vanilla is a 'sweet' romance, with pretty subtle heat between Alex and Sorrell.  It did seem to take a long time to move past that first day of them meeting, and to get into the story, so I did have a bit of a feeling of things being dragged out.  After that, the story was a fun, light read.
     
    I'd recommend this romance if you like a love story that is not explicit but you still know what's happened, with a couple that you can relate to on some level.

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
Sort by: Showing 1 Customer Reviews

If you find inappropriate content, please report it to Barnes & Noble
Why is this product inappropriate?
Comments (optional)