Bitter rivalry. Sweet attraction… My Sweet Enemy a sexy new adult romance by Jenny Hartwell is LIVE!
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The only thing tempering their insta-hate is delicious attraction.
Sunny chocolatier Charlotte Beecher is unemployed, in student debt, and on the verge of hawking her beloved copper pots just to make ends meet. So when a gourmet chocolate factory chooses her as one of five candidates to help re-launch the company in their Charlie and the Chocolate Factory inspired competition, Charlotte begins to see a light at the end of the tunnel.
Fellow contestant Luke Wells complicates her plans to win by a landslide with his flow charts and marketing projections. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Haughty is all about the bottom line and is as bitter as she is sweet. And when he snubs Charlotte in the first challenge, misunderstanding or not, she transforms from cream puff to jawbreaker. Bring. It. On.
But when these two rivals find themselves distracted by delicious attraction, will they let their passion get in the way of winning the competition?
The soft click of the key card in the front door sounded. Luke straightened from the island as the door opened. The soft glow from the undercabinet lights illuminated Charlotte, frozen in the doorway as she stared at him with wide eyes.
She wore high heels, tight jeans, and a fitted jacket over a low-cut top. She was, in a word, gorgeous.
Luke forced himself to blink.
“Um, hi,” she finally said, pulling her key card out of the lock without taking her eyes off him.
“Hello.” He kept his feet rooted to the spot.
Charlotte slowly walked into the kitchen area. Her unblinking gaze roamed over his bare chest and abdomen.
Luke’s skin felt hot, as if her stare was actually touching him.
“Did you have a good day?” he asked, trying to sound normal. Normal? Ha. He could barely manage normal on a typical day, let alone late at night when he was half-naked and the woman who’d caught his attention was looking delicious enough to eat.
She walked closer, her eyes still roaming across him. She was like a surveyor, mapping the contours and terrain of his muscles and sinews and flesh with precision. With focus. With intensity.
“I had a pretty relaxing day myself,” he said, filling the silence as he fidgeted with his ice-cream spoon.
She set her purse on the counter next to his bowl and stepped closer. Now only a foot separated them.
She was so short that he could see straight down the low-cut neckline of her shirt. He tried to look away. After all, he wasn’t a perv trying to sneak a peek, but his gaze returned to the tempting curves and shadows of her cleavage nonetheless.
Willpower, thy name is enemy.
Charlotte finally looked up at him. Her eyes seemed to glow in the soft, muted light.
“Charlotte, I just wanted to say again how sor—”
She covered his mouth with her fingers and shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
He spoke against the light pressure of her touch. “But— ”
She arched an eyebrow.
Her lips tipped up at the corner as she scanned him once more. She seemed to relish the sight of his bare feet and plaid pajama bottoms hanging low on his hips, as well as the half-eaten bowl of ice cream on the island counter beside him.
She kept one hand on his mouth, and with the other, she plucked the spoon out of his nerveless fingers. Scooping up a small mound of ice cream, she slid the spoon between her lips and slowly pulled it out. Her tongue darted to her lower lip to capture a drop of the melted dessert. Charlotte closed her eyes and hummed as she swallowed the bite.
“I’ve been thinking.” She set the spoon back into the bowl on the counter with a clink and took a half step closer.
The air between them grew hot. Or there wasn’t enough air. Or something else involving air was happening because Luke’s lungs suddenly felt like they needed more oxygen than was available.
He opened his mouth to question her, but she traced her fingertips lightly over his bottom lip. Luke forgot what he’d meant to say. He forgot the year, his name, and even how words worked.
“Luke,” Charlotte whispered. Her face was luminous. Her scent, vanilla and flowers and a hint of chocolate, teased his nose. Her lips were pink and gorgeous and inviting.
He nodded, and her fingers dragged across his mouth with the slight movement. He wanted to close his eyes and take her finger into his mouth and swirl his tongue around it and groan, but he did none of those things. Yesterday, he’d hurt her. He needed to treat her with respect. He needed to tread lightly. He needed to—
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
Luke swooped down, capturing her mouth with his.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jenny Hartwell has a confession—she loves People magazine as much as Pride and Prejudice. Her pop culture humor shines in her contemporary rom-com novels set in a gourmet chocolate factory. Her writing has won or finaled in numerous contests including the Golden Heart, The Emily, Four Seasons, Fool for Love, and The Catherine. Jenny lives with her family in the verdant Pacific Northwest. She loves movies, travel, and staying up way too late with a good book. And, of course, chocolate. Jenny is represented by Lesley Sabga of The Seymour Agency.
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