Unstoppable: Unstoppable, #1

By Samantha Romero

The steamy first installment of the Unstoppable romance serial by Samantha Romero. Warning... cliffhanger.

Daniel Anderson is charisma on a stick—unstoppable in every way.
He is successful and fun-loving; a self-made millionaire from the wrong end of London who personifies the textbook definition of a “player.”
All women swoon in his presence, but where's the fun and challenge in that? All women, that is, until he meets Siena...

Siena ekes out her living as a performer, using her God-given talents to sing for local events and charities. Strong, feisty, and independent, she promised herself many years ago that she would never again allow a “player” to break her heart. Although flattered and intrigued by Daniel’s constant attention, she struggles to resist him, knowing that surrender would mean losing herself completely.

Captivated by her voice and youthful beauty, he must have her—no matter what...

Always trust your instincts…

I knew he was trouble – from the moment I saw those damn dimples. The world of fashion had changed Daniel Anderson’s life for the better, and now everything he wanted, he got. Life was a big game to him and he sure played it.

I tried to ignore his ridiculous gutter accent. So what if he found me fascinating? Singing was just what I did; it’s not like I was trying to lure him in. One thing’s for sure, I wasn’t interested in his charm. I had seen it all before. My heart couldn’t take being broken again.

But resisting isn’t that simple, and we all make mistakes.

Warning: The Unstoppable Serial contains adult situations, explicit language and sexual content, appropriate for mature readers only 18+

• Language: English
• Publisher: Samantha Romero
• Release date: Jul 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9781497780125

Book preview

UNSTOPPABLE

by

Samantha Romero

––––––––

Copyright © 2013 Samantha Romero

All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, events, brands and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.

1

The phone started ringing. Go away! I yelled. I’m too tired! I just want to sleep. Still it rang... on and on in the dark apartment.

I wondered if my voice mail would ever do its job and pick up, or if I would be given no other choice but to chuck the damn phone out the window and onto the bustling Italian streets below.

Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring.

FINE! I threw the covers back and got out of bed, stomping across the cold, dusty tiles until I discovered the dreaded phone still ringing as it lay resting on the faded blue couch.

It was him.

Now what? I thought as I picked up the phone and managed to say, in a fairly firm voice for 11:30 p.m., Do you know what time it is, Daniel?

He just laughed and said, What took ya so bloody long?

I was in bed. Like most people on a Thursday at 11:30 p.m.

Naked, are ya?

I sighed. "Daniel—please, please try and focus on the reason why you’re phoning me."

I can’t stop thinking about that song—you know, the one with all the ooooooohs in it.

I smiled, rolling my eyes as I giggled down the phone line. Those breathy oooohs are just part of the music—don’t try to turn them into something they’re not.

There was a long pause...

Too late! he chuckled. I have to see you again; I can’t get ya outta my mind.

I didn’t know what to say; I had been badly burnt in the past, mixing business with pleasure, and I felt like this was very quickly turning into another one of those situations.

And then, there was the fact that he was married.

To another woman.

I’ll just see you at the next event, Danny—it’s only three weeks away.

I can’t wait that long. Just meet me at the hotel—dinner, that’s all... I won’t shut up about this until you agree.

Wasn’t that the truth! I knew he wouldn’t shut up about meeting him until I did.

I stared out the window, into the murky ink sky, as I wound one of my curls around my index finger in contemplation. Maybe we could meet... I don’t know, Danny... you’re impossible!

I’ll see you Saturday at eight, gorgeous.

But I haven’t even agreed to meet you.

He laughed, Oh you’ll be there! How could you not?

I let out a sigh of frustration and hung up the phone.

Once he got something in his mind, he never stopped going on about it. That was, until he achieved whatever he was after and moved on to his next target. I guess that’s one of the reasons why he was so successful in business and life. He never took no for an answer. The word ‘can’t’ didn’t exist to him.

He was unstoppable.

And that’s exactly how he was with me.

First the flirting, then the stares, then the emails, then the phone calls.

I would meet him on Saturday night to shut him up. My plan was to go and have dinner with him, indulge in a little harmless flirting, and then get the hell out.

He wasn’t my type.

AT ALL.

Too cocky.

Too English.

Too old.

Too successful.

Too rich.

Too married.

As I climbed back into my god-awful, really-need-to-replace-the-mattress bed and pulled the old feather duvet up and over my slender body, my mind wandered back to the last event where we had seen each other.

How he had come up behind me and rested his big, strong hands on my shoulders, his warm breath gently falling on the nape of my neck.

You should wear Valentino more often; I can’t begin to tell you how beautiful you look, he whispered in my ear.

I turned around, startled, to discover him just staring at me. Daniel... I’ve got to go on stage soon.

Shhh, darlin’, he said as he pushed me up against the theatre wall, his muscular body pinned against me.

Daniel!!! I gasped. What are you doing? Someone might see us...

My insides started to ache at the thought of what he might do to me next.

The sexual tension between us had been leading up to this very moment, and although I knew it was wrong, deep down I wanted him as much as he clearly wanted me.

Without a word, he leaned down and gently started kissing my neck, his rough stubble sending tingles of lust through my body. The smell of his aftershave affected me like some kind of illegal opium sold on the black market, and I inhaled deeply as I reached up