Why Jace Chantiers is the sexiest man alive and how I got to spend New Year’s Eve with him . . . oh, yeah #NewYearsEve
Every female in London must have a copy pasted to her bedpost. I didn’t know who he was until I got on board the airbus after he blew me away with his offer to give me a free ticket home to San Francisco.
Me, Kacie Bennett.
Don’t get the wrong idea. He’s just trying to help me. Seems Megan, my youngest sister, threw a hissy fit when her jock boyfriend left her behind when he went off to college. But that was no reason for her to run away from home to marry the first guy who asked her. A real creep, but that’s another story.
I want to talk about Jace Chantiers.
God, the man reeks masculinity from every pore. He’s built like a rock with shoulders so broad I swear the seams on his expensive suit are ready to rip apart. Handsome, rugged looks. He smells good, too. Spicy but with an undertone of citrus that makes me want to lean over and inhale him.
Not that I would. I’m a good girl. I run the family B&B: Bennett’s Bed & Breakfast, but the locals call it The 3 Bees. No hanky panky for me. Especially 30,000 feet up in the air. How I got here is a story in itself…
Gotta go. He’s making his play…rubbing his knee against mine. Giving me that look he’s famous for on the tabloid cover…taking off his suit jacket…damn, he’s opening his shirt. Oh, my God. His chest is muscular and bronze just like in the photo. He’s cupping my chin in his hand, his lips brushing mine…
Uh-oh, I think I’m about to find out why Jace Chantiers is the sexiest man alive…
Will Kacie be able to resist the sexiest man alive?
Come Fly with Me is the story about a bad boy billionaire who hooks up with a lonely good girl on New Year’s Eve at 30,000 feet in the air where…
Anything can happen.
Writers work in a cubicle surrounded by books, computers, and ideas.
We get lonely.
So when we go out (which isn’t often when you’re trying to promote your work online and get through the quagmire of the first chapter in your next book), we get talkative.
And since today is Talk in an Elevator Day, I’m reminded of the time I was in an elevator in a hotel and a guy was chatting me up about his hundred thousand dollar a year sales job and his black BMW. Nice enough, but I wasn’t looking for anything more than an ice machine that worked. The one on my floor was broken.
The convo went something like this.
“You don’t want to drink alone,” he said, observing my ice bucket filled with chilled cubes.
“I have my laptop for company.” I smiled. “Besides, I have work to do.”
“Are you here with the software convention?” he asked warily.
“Well…” I wasn’t, but I decided to play along.
“No way…a pretty girl like you can’t be a techie.”
“Why not?” I shot back. “Can’t women use their brains to get ahead?”
“Not when they have natural attributes…” He eyed my chest. Mind you, I was wearing navy blue sweats and pink bunny slippers with floppy ears. This guy was either desperate or he’d been on the road too long.
“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m a writer.”
“You’re kidding?” He seemed genuinely surprised, which didn’t help my ego. “What do you write?”
Ooh…I couldn’t resist shooting him the punch line.
“I write sexy novels.”
“Well, you are full of surprises,” he said, edging closer to me. “We should get to know each other better.”
The air in the elevator suddenly got stuffier and I prayed my deodorant didn’t work so he’d get the message. So far, no one else had gotten on the elevator and I had two more stops before we got to my floor.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” I said, wiggling the ears on my rabbit slippers, hoping to shoot down this guy’s sex-o-meter. That should have stopped him right there.
“How about a nightcap in my room? My bottle of bourbon and your–” He paused, wetting his lips. “Ice cubes.”
“You mean research?”
“I bet,” I said.
I shouldn’t have opened my mouth, but sometimes we writers just ache to act like our heroines and throw back those snappy remarks. I tried to discourage him, but when he started breathing in my face, I knew I was in over my head. I did what any romance heroine would do.
I dumped the bucket of melting ice on his pinstripe suit.
“Hey, what the–” he called out and thank God, the elevator door opened. It wasn’t my floor, but I didn’t care. One more minute with Mr. BMW and I would have ended up served on a chilled platter. Before he could brush the ice off his shoulders, out I ran. Down the long corridor and then jammed down the stairway to the next floor to my room.
I never looked back.
I imagine that was the last time he tried to pick up a girl in an elevator wearing pink bunny slippers.
The book (novella) the girl is holding in the graphic is COME FLY WITH ME, when a bad boy billionaire hooks up with a lonely good girl at 30,000 feet in the air, anything can happen…
It’s one of my favorites…all about family and trying to find your way back home. Link to my Amazon page: COME FLY WITH ME. It’s FREE July 31, 2015
You can read the Prologue to LOVE ME FOREVER in its entirety at the end of COME FLY WITH ME. So get your free copy and check it out!
If you love Civil War romance and time travel and TWO hunky military heroes, check out my Kindle Scout winner below.
She wore gray.
He wore blue.
But their love defied the boundaries of war.