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Emma LeFleur's vintage beach home is close to foreclosure. With a business struggling to take off, she has no choice but to turn to her neighbor, sexy and arrogant real estate investor Mitch McKennathe man whose reputation she's spent the past six months pulverizing.
Mitch offers her a deal that will save them both: if she'll convince her neighbors that she's 100% behind his controversial condo project he'll save her home. As a prominent leader in the community, Emma's the only one who can help him salvage the project and keep his employees from getting laid off.
But the chemistry between Emma and Mitch burns surprisingly hot, complicating their deal in a way neither had anticipated. Mitch unearths the long-buried siren within Emma, who'd forgotten how good it is to feel sexy, alive.
As Emma begins to turn public opinion in Mitch's favor, she's drawn to him in a way she can't deny. And Mitch finds himself wanting to prove to Emma that he's not the player she thinks he is
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About the Author
As a tween she stumbled fortuitously upon her mother's stash of romance books. Ever since, her love affair with sexy and funny alpha heroes consumes her thoughts.
Lily lives in Oregon with her two adorable, but mischievous puppies.
Learn more at www.lilysantana.com
Read an Excerpt
"What do you think you're doing? You're not planning on going outside in your pajamas, are you? Mitch already thinks you're certifiable."
Emma LeFleur's gaze flashed to the solid red light on the answering machine before zeroing in on her seventeen-year-old daughter's lithe frame splayed flat against the kitchen's back door. Clad in running shorts and a San Diego State Aztecs hoodie, Sammy LeFleur had inherited her father's obsession with his alma mater, along with the annoying habit of perkiness before dawn.
"I couldn't care less what that man thinks of me. He's making a racket outside, and it's barely light." She glanced at her distorted reflection in the stainless-steel toaster and smothered a grimace. "What's wrong with the way I look?"
Sammy's eyes widened in exaggerated disbelief. "Nothing. You always look amazing when you first get out of bed," she said, shaking her head.
"Thank you. Unlike Mitch McKenna, not all of us look like we're primped for Glamour Shots first thing in the morning," she said smugly but pulled her fingers through her knotted hair just the same.
"If you tried, you could look amazing. It's not like you're ancient." Sammy ambled over to the bay window above the sink to peruse the action outside. "So you agree Mitch is hot?"
Emma expelled a long breath. "Oh, please, spare me. No woman should ever want a man who looks better than she does on her best day." This conversation demanded caffeine. She grabbed the empty coffee carafe.
Sammy's brows furrowed in concentration. "Look at him, with his aviator glasses and five o'clock shadow. He's the only man I wouldn't mind seeing in skinny jeans."
She cringed. "That's it. I'm getting your eyes checked when you get back from San Diego." She bumped Sammy aside to fill the coffeepot with water, intentionally getting in the way of her daughter's ogling. "Are you packed?"
"Stop it." Sammy swatted her futile attempts to block the view and craned her neck to peek around her. "How old do you think he is?"
"Too old for you."
"But not for you."
Emma looked out and studied the object of her daughter's attention standing less than twenty yards from the dormant raspberry bush that divided their property. Even though he was only thirty-one, McKenna had a reputation for being an ambitious developer and investor, turning distressed properties up and down the Oregon Coast into profitable ventures.
As if he could feel her gaze on him, he suddenly jerked toward her. Her heart in her throat, she stumbled back, spilling water all over the counter.
Sammy raised her brow in amusement. "Why don't you try a little harder to be nice to him? It's not like it's his fault the Madsens foreclosed. You've been super cranky ever since Mitch got into town."
"I have not," Emma blurted, but when a truck backfired, she flared her nose and gritted her teeth.
Ever since McKenna had bought the foreclosed beachfront property across the street, they'd locked horns. As head of the citizen task force, she spearheaded the effort to delay his multimillion dollar development project. And now, rumor had it, the six-month delay put him in jeopardy of losing his investor. She was certain McKenna would like nothing more than if a sneaker wave came up behind her and swallowed her whole.