Strictly Business

By Annette Hawkins

The night Bethany catches her fiancé in bed with two prostitutes and snorting cocaine, should have been the worst moment of her life. But it isn’t. That comes the next morning when she finds herself naked in bed with Alexander Kirkwood, a successful, Chicago-based businessman, and no recollection of how she’d got there. All she knows is that they’ve had sex. Hard and wild, and several times over, if her patchy memory is to be believed. But her slide towards chaos does not stop there.
Nick her ex-fiancé, has been stealing from her personal and business bank accounts to fund his drug and prostitute habit. Bankrupt and homeless, Bethany fights to keep her fledgling, bio-cosmetics business “As Nature Intended” going. Rescue arrives in the unlikely form of Alexander “Xander” Kirkwood.
Bossy, arrogant, controlling - everything that Bethany hates in a man - Xander offers his significant business expertise and mentorship in exchange for Bethany back in his bed. But the consequence of Nick’s action has far-reaching consequences which threaten not just Bethany’s life and reputation but Xander’s too.
Contains graphic language and sizzling sex scenes.

Excerpt from Strictly Business

“...women are best suited to the bedroom, not the boardroom.”
The comment, made by the dark-haired man seated to the right of the empty chair, raised a loud murmur of laughter from the other guests at the table.
Bethany glanced at the name plate against the vacant chair, hoping that she was mistaken. No. Tonight, her luck was running true to form. “Bethany Green, As Nature Intended – Director” was written in fine calligraphy on the place setting in front of the empty seat next to the chauvinist bore. She gripped the back of the chair, her knuckles white, as she nodded to her fellow guests.
“Ms. Bethany Green?” The man to her right, the same man, stood up to pull out her chair. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been hearing a lot about you.”
His after-shave was light and, combined with the scent of his skin, the epitome of everything masculine. The room swam as Bethany looked up and stared into the greenest eyes and sexiest smile she had ever seen.
But she had seen them before, three years ago, when she was a business studies student at UCLA. He’d been the guest speaker at the end of year graduation celebrations. And both his smile and eyes were as mesmerising as ever.
Alexander Kirkwood. The Alexander Kirkwood, whose smooth, motivational speech had inspired Bethany to set up business for herself rather than apply for a job with an established management consultancy or a major corporation. The same Alexander Kirkwood who had tried to seduce her at the drinks reception after his speech.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Annette Hawkins
• Release date: Mar 22, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311733245

Annette Hawkins

Author, living in South-West France, whose passions include reading and writing sexy romances, and sunflowers. I started writing seriously when my husband and I moved to the South West of France in 2005. We bought our “rural escape from the rat-race” - a traditional Gascogne farmhouse - in 2000 but it wasn’t until visiting the region on holiday over the following five years, and falling in love with the countryside and our French neighbours, that we decided to move here permanently. Opting for a complete career change, I started designing and selling dichroic glass jewellery, mainly at the local craft fairs and weekly French markets in the region, and was fortunate to meet an eclectic range of interesting people. To while away the time between customers, I kept an A4 notebook at hand to scribble down concepts for my stories which I set in some of my favourite exotic locations around the world. Especially those I had the chance to visit during my career pre-France. The fact that I was dreaming up erotic romance novels while working on a market stall amused my French and English clients no end, and I had the great fortune to receive support and encouragement from a couple of published authors, to whom I am eternally grateful. Since my first attempt to get published, I have written several other romances which I intend to publish soon. In my spare time, I teach English to adults at debutant and intermediate level.

Book preview

STRICTLY BUSINESS

Annette Hawkins

Published by Annette Hawkins at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 Annette Hawkins

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Chapter 1

Bethany stood on the threshold of the ballroom, trying to exude a veneer of calmness she certainly didn’t feel. It was turning out to be one hell of a night.

Less than two hours earlier she’d found her fiancé, Nick, in bed with two high-class hookers. At least she presumed they were hookers - one, a buxom, coffee-skinned beauty, and the other, a stunning, blonde girl, who was so thin her large breasts seemed too heavy for her meagre frame. They laughed at Bethany when they saw her watching them from the threshold of the bedroom then carried on, one bouncing on his erection, the other on his face; credit cards and several lines of suspicious white powder gracing the bedside table.

And now she was here, at the Drake Hotel, attending a glittering black-tie award ceremony to celebrate Chicago’s young, innovative, and up and coming business talent as one of the contenders for the Chicago Young Entrepreneur of the Year award.

She forced herself to pause in the hallway to take charge of her emotions. If she truly loved Nick, she should be hurt, upset, devastated, hell-bent on revenge. Instead she was angry that Nick had blamed his transgressions squarely on her, blaming her consuming passion for As Nature Intended, the bio-cosmetic business she had launched two years ago, as his reason for sleeping with other women. She suspected he’d cheated on her before but this was the last damned time.

She gave an involuntary shrug of her shoulders. Perhaps Nick was right. Perhaps she did care for her business more than she did for him. Because the emotion that followed, once the anger had receded, was overwhelming relief. No longer did she have to feel guilty about neglecting him, or worse, listen to his pathetic excuses all over again.

Casting an eye over the seating plan by the entrance, Bethany noted that she had been placed on a table of eight in front of the stage. Should she take it as a good omen that she was up for an award as the organisers had strongly hinted? No. Pride came before a fall, didn’t it?

Her evening hadn’t got off to an auspicious start. The only reason she dragged herself to the awards dinner was to meet like-minded people and to establish a network of associates who might give her fresh ideas or help to expand her company. Otherwise she would have been curled up in bed, scarfing an entire bucket of Rocky Road ice cream to ease her anger. After she’d dumped all her bed linen into the washing machine, of course.

She hitched a gold-strapped evening bag up onto her shoulder and drew herself up to her full height to walk across to her table.

…women are best suited to the bedroom, not the boardroom.

The comment, made by the dark-haired man seated to the right of the empty chair, raised a loud murmur of laughter from the other guests at the table.

Bethany glanced at the name plate against the vacant chair, hoping that she was mistaken. No. Tonight, her luck was running true to form. Bethany Green, As Nature Intended – Director was written in fine calligraphy on the place setting in front of the empty seat next to the chauvinist bore. She gripped the back of the chair, her knuckles white, as she nodded to her fellow guests.

Ms. Bethany Green? The man to her right, the same man, stood up to pull out her chair. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been hearing a lot about you.

His after-shave was light and, combined with the scent of his skin, the epitome of everything masculine. The room swam as Bethany looked up and stared into the greenest eyes and sexiest smile she had ever seen.

But she had seen them before, three years ago, when she was a business studies student at UCLA. He’d been the guest speaker at the end of year graduation celebrations. And both his smile and eyes were as mesmerising as ever.

Alexander Kirkwood. The Alexander Kirkwood, whose smooth, motivational speech had inspired Bethany to set up business for herself rather than apply for a job with an established management consultancy or a major corporation. The same Alexander Kirkwood who had tried to seduce her at the drinks reception after his speech.

That evening, in front of her university lecturers, she’d managed to resist him. God, why did the organisers have to seat her next to him, tonight of all nights? Especially when his eyes raked first over her body and then over her face, leaving Bethany in no doubt that, just as he had three years earlier, he was assessing her for her physical assets and not for her reputation as a business woman.

Still smarting from his inane comment, she wished she had chosen something more demure to wear. The strap-less bodice in mink-coloured shot silk and matching, slim-line skirt made her feel naked and exposed under his frank appraisal. The bodice fastened up with mink-coloured suede laces and eyelets at each side, revealing inches of naked flesh, and shouting bondage and boudoirs.

In her imagination, she saw him undoing each lace with barely-controlled impatience. He was that sort of guy - totally hot, and, according to the media, a self-confessed sex addict. Her insides suddenly felt too warm for her body and her head lapsed into a mild fuzziness.

That’s right. I’m Bethany Green. And you are?

She regarded him with a cool stare, pretending not to know who he was just to deflate his oversized ego. For some reason, she felt unusually daring. She presumed it was because of the man smiling down at her, who made her feel petite and fragile due to his impressive height and solid, muscular form. She had no choice but to take her seat next to him. To escape would cause a scene.

She picked up the glass of water in front of her and took a long sip to clear her head.

The name’s Alexander Kirkwood, he responded easily, his vivid green eyes meeting her unspoken challenge head on. But you can call me Xander.

In that instant, Bethany decided that, despite years of wondering about his self-publicised prowess in the bedroom, she disliked Alexander Kirkwood intensely.

She felt flat. He hadn’t recognised her, and he had the personality of a pig, even though, with his dark hair curling seductively across the collar of his dinner jacket, and his finely-chiselled features, he was the most attractive man in the room by a mile. Yet his manner was arrogant, exuding a raw machismo she considered out-dated in the Twenty-First Century.

Ignoring his outstretched hand, she introduced herself to the other guests seated at the table, noting with a sinking feeling that they were much older than her - three senior executives and their well-groomed, corporate wives. Alexander Kirkwood, at thirty-five, was the nearest person to her age by far, and single, if the empty place setting next to him with her name on was a sign. It was going to be a long, long night, and she felt a little light-headed.

What made you decide to set your business up in Chicago, Ms. Green?

Xander twisted in his chair to face her as she sat down. The long tapered fingers of one hand toyed with the stem of his empty wine glass while the other rested on the back of her chair. Way too close for Bethany’s comfort. He seemed intent on overwhelming her with his huge, powerful presence even though his actions probably appeared measured and laid-back to everyone else in the room.

I was brought up here, she replied stiffly, though my family moved to Dallas when I was twelve years old. I moved back just over two years ago when I set up my business. How about you, Mr Kirkwood? Why are you here?

She hoped the message in her eyes was unmistakable. Every deliberate moment she made was meant to convey, Back off, I’m not interested, however much her body swore differently.

Xander’s eyes swept from her face to her hands. The band of pale-coloured skin on her ring finger snagged his attention. The absence of a gold band made it easy to demise that she had recently emerged from a long-term relationship, and not by choice, if her prickly behaviour had anything to do with it. It shouldn’t have mattered but it did.

For years, he’d passed through life considering women a pleasant distraction from his business goals and necessary to satisfy his strong sex drive but that was all. Bethany Green, however, delightfully enticing with her luminous, blue eyes and full, curvy mouth; her short, raven-black hair cut in an elfin style to complement her delicate features; and her low-cut dress lovingly caressing her curves, was a whole different proposition.

For three long years he’d waited to get her into his bed. And now she was as pissed as a street cat with him, though he had no idea why.

Please, call me Xander, he said, ignoring her rebuff. Like you, I was brought up elsewhere. My father was in the US Army and was posted all over the States. I’ve always loved Chicago. I studied here and decided to stay.

And what is it that you do, Mr …er, Kirkwood? She made sure he caught her checking out his place name.

Xander shot her a quizzical look. Had he made so little an impression on her three years ago that she didn’t remember him? Because he certainly remembered her.

To him, she resembled a beautiful and very sexy, fallen angel, with her intelligent blue eyes; the determined set of her luscious lips; and a curvy body - especially her generous breasts and a heart-shaped ass that had his cock twitching to play with. Besides which, she had been nominated for an entrepreneurial award. If she knew anything about business, she should have recognised him from the business pages of the national and local newspapers.

I run a chain of hotels.

The look she returned revealed a lively intellect and a bare-faced affront to his ego. She knew exactly who he was, and she most definitely remembered their last meeting. The weight inside of him lifted. Despite all his meticulous planning, he’d been worried she wouldn’t turn up.

But she’d arrived late - breathless and her natural poise slightly off kilter - and he was hooked all over again, without even trying.

A very successful worldwide chain of luxury hotels. Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Kirkwood. She wanted to say ego but managed to stop herself.

And you’ve been making a name for yourself too, Ms. Green.

The accent on the Ms was imperceptible to anyone else other than Bethany. He was playing with her, enjoying the flirtatious game she had chosen to initiate.

I’ve read about your innovative business ideas.

Bethany met his eyes full on. A smile played around his firm, sexy mouth, and his green eyes flashed as they reflected the light - no doubt imagining how he wanted to fuck her. She recognised the signs. The enlargement of his pupils, the flare of his nostrils straining to pick up her scent, and the strong pulse beneath his collar.

Deliberately replacing the image of Xander and herself naked, sweat-sheened and panting at each other like animals, with the memory of her ex-fiancé fucking two hookers on her bed, she hardened her heart. Men. They only thought with their dicks. If Alexander Kirkwood thought she would spread her legs for him after his blatantly sexist remark, he had another think coming, however hot he might be. Revenge was a dish best served cold, and she could afford to wait until dessert.

I’m surprised you read the article. It was published in one of the local newspapers.

She took another long sip of water to clear her head again. Bizarrely, her limbs felt loose and languid and she couldn’t quite shake off the fantasy she’d conjured up of her and Xander naked. It gnawed at the back of her mind, making her internal temperature reach an uncomfortable level.

I monitor the business section of all the local and national newspapers. I am always interested in new business concepts. That’s how I keep one step ahead of the competition.

As the fantasy playing in her head transformed into an X-rating, Bethany pretended to study her place-setting. She clenched her thighs together to dull the buzz settling around her clit.

Hmmhmm... The journalist was very kind. I’m afraid she got carried away with her enthusiasm for the products.

You’re far too modest, Ms Green. You’ve built up a reputable, niche brand in little under two years. That takes a fair amount of business acumen. May I call you Bethany? He inclined his head, waiting for her to demure. After all, we’re going to spend the rest of the evening together.

It was difficult to ignore him. His voice was pure seduction, hinting of plans beyond dinner. And the light in his eyes was too warm, too knowing. As though he could read her secret desires, he picked up her hand and planted a light kiss inside her wrist, sending her pulse skittering.

Bethany stared at her plate. Lust more than anger or embarrassment caused the heavy flush on her cheeks. She tried to fight it. Was he so arrogant to believe he had a chance of getting her into his bed? And was it so ridiculous that she actually wanted it to happen? She raised her head, aware that the rest of the people around the table were taking a not so discrete interest in them.

Scrubbing her wrist with a napkin beneath the table, she turned to smile at the fifty-something businessman opposite her. She recognised him as Charles Destrange, the President of the Art Institute. Thank heavens for a face she recognised.

Mr. Destrange. It’s an honour to meet you, sir. You have a fabulous exhibition on show at the moment. I’ve visited twice already.

She chatted to Destrange and his wife for several minutes until Xander joined the conversation. With as much tact as she could, Bethany excused herself to talk to the couple on her left. The wife, stylishly dressed in a designer evening gown, was keen to discuss the merits of bio cosmetics versus the mass-produced brands. It was a lifeline that Bethany clung to throughout dinner, talking with passion about the benefits of the botanical plants she used in her skin-care range.

From time to time, Xander topped up her glass of water or she felt his rich, throaty laugh rumble down her spine as he joked with the couple on his right. His thigh rested against hers, ensuring that she couldn’t ignore his powerful masculinity and authority however much he irritated her. And the longer the award dinner went on, the more aware she became of the sexual tension that radiated from him in her direction.

As she reached for her water glass, her hand brushed accidentally against his. The electric shock that zapped through her nerve endings made her start. She turned to face him, surprised that one single, involuntary touch could set her whole body on fire.

It must have had some impact on Xander too, or maybe he’d planned it, because he leant forward close to her ear. Don’t think you can avoid me all night, Bethany, he growled. We’ve played this game before. Three years ago. Remember? But this time you have no professors to hide behind. And there’s no escaping the inevitable.

I’m sorry, Mr. Kirkwood. I have no idea what you are talking about.

She drew back to give him a frosty look.

His knowing smile didn’t get beyond his bared teeth even though his green eyes glittered under the low-level lighting. He drew closer to place his mouth against her ear.

You can deny it as much as you want. It doesn’t matter. I am going to fuck you, Ms. Green. Perhaps not tonight, perhaps not the next day. But you will come to my bed, and you will beg me, on your hands and knees, to fuck you. And I will make you come hard, screaming out my name, all night long.

A dizzy rush of desire zapped through her body, honing in on her clit. Her lungs refused to fill with air at the stark image in her head of Xander striping her naked in front of the whole ballroom and fucking her on the white table-cloth. She forced herself to take a deep breath to control the crazy contractions around her sex. Hell, how could he have known what she’d been thinking?

Drawing on an inner bravado, she pulled back and gave him a slow, critical appraisal intended to freeze the hottest ardour. Then she inclined her head, so that her lips grazed his recently-shaved cheek. The combination of his smooth skin, his aftershave and his sexually-charged words had her panties soaked but damned if she’d let him get away with speaking to her so explicitly.

Oh, that’s right, she said huskily. Women are best suited to the bedroom, not the boardroom. Isn’t that what you were saying earlier? Well, in your dreams, Mr. Kirkwood. In your dreams. Because that’s the only way you’ll get me into your bed.

Using the cover of the dimmed lights to hide her actions, sheer devilry drove her to trace the tip of her tongue against his finely-chiselled jaw line to his fleshy ear lobe while her hand slid beneath the tablecloth to squeeze his cock. It was meant to be a joke. It was meant to emasculate him. But beneath her tongue, his stubbled skin tasted all male, and his cock, to her surprise, was as hard as granite beneath the zip of his pants, straining to be unleashed.

His hand clamped down on hers, preventing her from removing it.

Don’t start something you don’t intend to finish, Beth. You’re playing with fire, he rumbled against her ear.

He curled her fingers tighter against his erection, to show exactly how much her touch inflamed him.

I don’t need to get you into bed to fuck you, Bethany. How about here, on the table? Or perhaps in the rest rooms, with your feet clamped around my neck while I make you come again and again with my tongue and then with my cock. I’m ready. And I’ll bet a year’s salary, you are wet and ready for me too.

He finally released the pressure on her hand. Why stop at sampling the goods. Let’s go all the way, right here, right now.

Bethany pulled away from him like a scalded cat. Shock infused her cheeks with colour. Fuck, the man was huge. Something that size could split a girl in two. Despite her best attempts to ignore the incident, wild fantasies ran riot through her head, as she imagined touching and tasting his hot, throbbing cock with her tongue. It was all she could do not to groan out loud.

Chapter 2

Darkness lent the room an eerie glow. The second she came to, Bethany was conscious of something hard pressing into her ass. The taste of stale alcohol coated her tongue and mouth like a glove lined with steel-wool, and her head felt as though it was about to explode. Then she realised. The hard thing pressing into her buttocks was someone’s penis. Holy fuck.

Panic made her freeze. How she’d ended