Danita Minnis

Welcome to the All I Want for Christmas is a Hot Alpha Male Hop! Join us as we show some love for the Alpha Males in our favorite romances. Let’s talk about our hot heroes and what we love about them. Click the button above to stay on track and remember to leave your email address for a chance to win my site’s prize, a $5 Amazon gift card. But that’s not all, check out the grand prize:

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My hot alpha male Roman Cardiff has plans for Amelie Laurent, jewelry designer extraordinaire….

Roman sat in the back of the limo as it snaked its way through traffic on Fifth Avenue.

There was undeniable attraction between them. She must have felt it, too. He saw when the realization came to her. Her expressive features had closed into a mask of professionalism. She wanted to pretend this would be a business relationship. But when he wanted something as much as he wanted Amelie Laurent, it was only a matter of time.

He would play her game until she was more comfortable with her conscience. He had never seen her at Penrods before. If he had, she would not be there, but waiting for him at home, naked in his bed. She wouldn’t think him such a stranger then.

Terrence, his limo driver, opened the passenger door.

Roman stepped out into the billowing snow and walked up the steps to the St. Regis Hotel.

Ms. Laurent had been angry about something—her perky little nose arched up and her accent was thicker in her fury. Her pouty lips had turned down and her high cheekbones flushed in sweet defiance. Eyes the color of emeralds glinted in what he could only describe as alarm.

He had wanted to comfort her in that moment, to kiss away her distress. Instead, remembering where they were, he let her hand go, thinking, Yes, Beauty, you are right; too soon.

Now he knew why those beautiful eyes had widened in alarm. Ms. Laurent was in league with his enemies, the Garamondes. She thought he had come to expose the uncanny similarities between her jewelry designs and those of eighteenth century Cardiff Jewelers.

He would have exposed her, he’d been so angry, but something had stopped him. She was younger than he expected. He thought to find a seasoned veteran of the art, someone familiar with period pieces. Her skill level was amazing for one who must have been out of university just a couple of years.

Roman stepped into the penthouse elevator. Help from the Garamondes would have that effect on her designs.

He jabbed at the elevator button, wondering if she had been involved in last year’s patent ownership mess with the Garamondes. That cost him a pretty penny.
Well, she would have no help but him at St. Clair Manor, and then he’d see just how
skilled an artist she was.

He planned only to meet with Ms. Laurent to discuss concepts for the new line, but Harold’s boast about her work with the Garamondes made that impossible. Though her trip to England could have waited until preliminary sketches were completed, he had no qualms about taking her away where he could watch her closely. He wanted no interruptions as he found out just how far the Garamondes had taken this sham.

Ms. Laurent would not turn down this assignment. This was exactly the type of work she wanted. Why he knew this about her was just as intriguing as Amelie Laurent herself.

For the most part, they would be alone at St. Clair Manor with only a handful of others for company. He had plenty of time to work on that conscience of hers.

In the penthouse suite, he threw his wool overcoat onto the settee in the hall. He dropped his tie atop the coffee table in the living room and looked out the patio sliding doors to the snow-laden trees below in Central Park.

His instincts had been right about this trip. Despite her connection to the Garamondes, Ms. Laurent inspired him. He was already getting ideas for the new collection. Inspiration was driving him to a second purpose in this design endeavor, a selfish one—the seduction of Amelie Laurent.

 

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