Some temptations are just too sweet to resist…
Richard Martin’s life was only just starting to come back together, then she opened the door in that damn little black robe that shows off plenty of leg, and every curve.
She, Rebecca Blaire, the girl from downstairs. His babysitter.
She’s every man’s fantasy, a big doe-eyed nymph, as beautiful as she is innocent.
Forbidden fruit in every sense of the word.
And she desperately needs his help, before her abusive father comes home and beats her black and blue.
Richard knew he should just walk away. It wasn’t any of his business really, and nothing good could come from going through that door, but then…
Some temptations are just too sweet to resist.
Sweet Temptations: The Babysitter is the original debut from the Lord of Lust, L.M. Mountford, a sizzling tale of lust and temptation that will ignite your ereader and leave you panting for more as it follows a modern man’s journey across the Rubicon.
With all the Sylvia Day but only some of the drama of Bridget Jones, Sweet Temptations is one you don’t want to miss.
This new edition includes a sneak peek of its long-awaited sequel, The Boss’s Daughter.
For all her customary swagger, the silky soft voice sounded breathless and the shaky timbre drew his gaze irresistibly back to her. Scarlet glared back at him, her eyes narrowed and cheeks tinged a faint shade of pink. She seemed to be musing whether to say more, searching for a trap behind the question, and the uncertainty reflected in those bright blue irises had him blowing out a slow breath that released all the tension from his body.
Scarlet obviously sensed, or noticed, the change in him however because the gleam of predatory amusement returned to her eyes. She’d play whatever game he had in mind, and she’d play to win. “Daddy says the job’s mine if I want it, but first I need to get my house in order. He’s starting to think we might have a loose cannon on deck.” She leant casually back against the refreshments table with her hands gripping the edges to distribute her weight and back curving just enough to emphasise her breasts. It was a pose that would have put many magazine centrefolds to shame. “But let’s not talk shop. This is a party, after all. How is your son, Alex isn’t it? I saw the pictures on your desk. He must be nearly two now?”
Richard held her gaze, refusing to take the bait even as his eyes were instinctively drawn to the slopes of her breasts. “Almost sixteen months, yes.” He swallowed, a bitter taste rising in the back of his throat, not liking the way this conversation was turning. “And he’s fine, hasn’t quite got the hang of walking yet. Can’t quite find his feet so he’s always losing his balance mid-step. We’ve had a lot of scuffs and tears, but he keeps getting back up.” He couldn’t quite keep the pride from his voice. So many kids would burst into a fit of tears whenever they fell over and refuse to move until their parent’s picked them up, but Alex never stopped. Even in tears he would push himself up and keep crawling to where he wanted to go.
“And you and Alice are coping well?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. A curl of locks fell out of place but Scarlet didn’t brush it aside, her eyes searching his. “I doubt it could have been easy starting a family so soon after losing your job. Your career taking such a huge step back and having to pack up your lives to move here. Not many marriages could weather the storm so well, maybe you two should write one of those self-help books. Money woes and job lows – A couple’s survival guide.” She chuckled, the sound dry and mocking.
Forcing a small smile, Richard resisted the impulse to give her the finger. I prefer Don’t Let the Tarts Get You Down. “We’re Fine.” Of course, it was a half-truth. They fought, sometimes like cats and dogs over nothing at all, and other times they fought to avoid the very real issues looming over them. There had been many of those recently, but he wasn’t about to discuss that with Scarlet.
“I see.” With that, she pushed away from the table and fingered the stray lock of hair back behind her ear. “Tell me, Dick, would you consider it cheating to kiss me under the mistletoe?” She said it casually, as if it was as every day as asking about the weather.
Already on edge and walking on eggshells, the broadside caught Richard completely by surprise and had him almost doubling over in a fit of dry, heaving coughs so violent it was a marvel he didn’t choke. “Ex-ex-excuse me?” he stammered, certain he must have misheard her.
Smiling teasingly, she stepped closer so that as she looked up they were almost nose-to-nose. “It was a perfectly simple question.” A hand tipped by baby blue nails reached out, taking the cup from his grasp and placing it on the refreshment table before tracing her finger up along the lapel of his jacket and along the line of his jaw. “Would you consider kissing another woman under the mistletoe as being unfaithful to your wife?”
Her eyes flickered to the ceiling overhead and, pressing firmly on his chin, she tilted his head back. Too stunned to resist, he followed her gaze skyward to where three leaves of mistletoe were hanging off a scrap of crimson silk dangling above their heads.
Richard’s chest constricted. “I…I…”