Stolen (The Madame X School of Sex 0.5) by Jinx Jamison

Author:Jinx Jamison [Jamison, Jinx]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Erotic, Adult
Goodreads: 12814407
Publisher: CrushStar Romance
Published: 2011-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Keep reading for an excerpt from Casey’s Night In (The Mirage Agency Book 1.5) , the prequel to Book 2, Asking for Andre.

Excerpt of Casey's Night In

CHAPTER 1

Casey flopped down on her overstuffed couch and blew her bangs out of her eyes. It had been a hell of a day. She was ready to sit back, relax and do what she’d been thinking about since lunchtime.

She leaned over and pulled the shiny new magazine from her purse. She placed it gently on her lap and stroked a finger down the crisp uncreased page. She’d passed the magazine on the store rack while buying a sandwich at lunchtime and had been powerless to resist buying it. After a quick glance at the table of contents, she flipped it open to page thirty-six. A pair of brilliant gray eyes stared back at her. The same eyes that haunted her every night while she slept.

Andre Lavin.

Fashion Designer Extraordinaire. Italian Bad Boy. Multimillionaire. The article’s headline was deliberately sensational but there weren’t enough labels in the world to adequately describe this man. Not enough in the universe to describe the way he made her feel.

The agency she worked for handled his advertising and PR. She’d only been working the reception desk at Mirage Advertising for a few months but she’d seen him countless times. Unfortunately the majority of those times consisted of her either stuttering or doing something equally embarrassing.

“Such as spilling my coffee all over myself.”

The dark brown stain on the front of her white blouse was evidence of her humiliation. He’d been in the hallway as she was leaving the employee lunchroom that afternoon. All it had taken was him saying hello, those marvelous eyes crinkling at the corners. She’d been so lost in his gaze that she’d kept walking straight ahead.

Right into a wall.

Embarrassment swept through her all over again. Luckily he didn’t come in to the agency every day. She needed some time before she could look him in the eye without blushing.

She had to give him credit though, he hadn’t laughed at her when it happened. He’d actually been really nice, had even offered her his handkerchief. It was still in her pocket.

She wasn’t accustomed to mopping up spills with delicate squares of linen that probably cost more money than she made in a week.

The entire time he’d been muttering in Italian and she’d been too flustered to point out that she didn’t understand. So after he’d left she’d asked Milo, one of the designers who spoke Italian fluently, to translate some of the things he was saying.

Apparently piccolina meant “little one”, which wasn’t surprising because she knew she was short. However, the other word he’d used, tesoro, was something used as an endearment. Milo had given her a knowing smile when he told her it was something you’d call a lover or a close friend.

What the hell was she supposed to make of that?

“Don’t make it more than it is, Casey. He probably has a pet name for all the girls who dump coffee on him.

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