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Only for You
Some passions are too hot to disguise…
Former Army intelligence officer Seth Hightower may work with the Hollywood elite as a special effects makeup artist, but he’s learned the hard way to keep fame obsessed starlets at arm’s length. Only one woman ever tempted him to break his rules about dating actresses—and she left him with the memory of one night of uninhibited passion and a lifetime of what-ifs.
Hollywood “It” girl Gia Harris is used to being in the spotlight—and avoiding it when necessary. After she witnesses a heinous crime, she knows testifying is the right thing to do, even if it is in the midst of a media circus. But when things heat up and Gia is in danger she needs to avoid prying eyes and the rabid, long arm of the media. Seth’s special skills and knowledge of disguise make him the perfect person to keep her famous face out of the news, but their history makes him the last person she wants to be alone with. He’s far too tempting—and now, far too close…
As Seth conceals Gia and steals her away from a rabid public, they can’t ignore the blistering attraction between them. And when they give in to their cravings, they reveal more about themselves than either of them has ever laid bare before…
The ONE NIGHT OF PASSION Reading Order:
1. Addicted to You
2. Bound to You (e-novella)
3. Captured by You (e-novella)
4. Exposed to You
5. Only for You
Read an Excerpt
Seth glanced up sharply. “I’m not involved with Cecilia Arends,” he said, holding her stare levelly. “Or anyone, for that matter.”
Warmth rushed through her. He had understood what she needed to know. Gia turned back around. Cecilia Arends was beautiful and successful. She was polished and experienced, and closer to Seth’s age. It wouldn’t surprise her at all if there were some kind of history between the two of them. Lots of women must lust after
Seth Hightower. He was very good-looking, true, but there was something about his stoicism and sheer male power that was like waving a red flag of challenge at a female.
“Why not?” she wondered, a little stunned to realize she’d spoken the thought out loud.
His hand slid beneath the fastener at her lower leg. Her eyes sprang wide when he palmed what felt like her entire calve with his big hand. “Why not what? Lift your heel a little,” he requested.
She followed his urging, cursing the lurch of her heart inspired by his touch. He slipped the bootie attached to the foot covering—the sabaton—off of her.
“Why aren’t you involved with anyone? I mean, is it by choice or circumstance?” she persisted.
“Circumstance. The one called I’m-too-damn-busy.”
She laughed softly. “I can imagine. Have you ever done a Rill Pierce film?” she asked as he touched her other calf and she tracked every subtle nuance of his long fingers on her flesh.
“No. But I’d like to. What makes you ask? Foot up,” he directed.
She lifted her foot obligingly. He slid off the bootie, but then his fingers returned, briefly cupping and stroking the naked heel of her bare foot in a fleeting caress. Electricity tingled through her at the unexpected, shockingly erotic touch. He urged her to put her foot down.
“Oh . . . because I knew someone who received his scholarship while I was at UCLA, and I went and heard Pierce speak once. He’s very talented. Both of you are sort of . . . men’s men. I was thinking you two might work well together.”
When he didn’t immediately speak, she twisted her chin around anxiously. He came up behind her, going from kneeling to towering over her in a second. The vision of him rising behind her like some kind of intimidating, steely phantom ascending fast from the floor froze her breath in her lungs.
No. Seth Hightower was no ghost, nor was he just a favorite sculpture. He was a vibrant, primal, flesh-and-blood man.
“Men’s men?” he repeated, standing close enough that she could see those thousands of pinpricks of amber that made his eyes whiskey-colored instead of just brown.
She nodded, temporarily speechless. He quirked a brow in a silent query.
“Big. Reserved.” She hesitated. “Simmering.”
“Simmering?” he said, his gaze moving slowly over her face and fastening on her lips.
“Yeah. Like something is frothing just beneath the surface, and you might . . . blow at any second,” she whispered.
The silence stretched.
“Take off the pants,” he said quietly.
“You heard me. They’re part of the costume. I want to keep it all together, or there’s a chance things will get misplaced tomorrow when the delivery service comes to get them. I’ll look around after I pack this and see if I can’t find a robe for you.”
He turned away and started to gather the armor parts. Gia was a little floored. He was interested in her, wasn’t he? He was extremely hard to read at times. But then she recalled that squeeze of her braid, the obvious male heat in his eyes when he studied her just now, not to mention that tingling stroke on her heel.
No. She wasn’t misreading him.
Her pulse began to leap in her throat as she fumbled with the fastenings on the loose pants. She drew them off and folded them. Turning around slowly, she saw Seth methodically packing the armor into a duffel bag, his back to her. She approached him.
“Here you go,” she said.
He barely turned from his task as he accepted the pants. Feeling very exposed in a pair of low-rise, boy-cut black briefs and a tank top, not to mention confused by Seth’s intense focus elsewhere, she wandered back to the seating area.
Should she take this opportunity to go? she wondered anxiously as she tugged at the shorts. Liza had told her to wear something brief that hugged the body. The black shorts were extremely tight. She looked down at herself anxiously. Why hadn’t she noticed the way they outlined her sex before? Maybe she should sit down on the couch and put a pillow over her hips until Seth returned with the robe? She jerked on the fabric again, only to have the waistband creep down beneath the bottom of her tank top and expose the skin of her lower belly.
She wasn’t wearing a bra. That fact hadn’t bothered her at all when Liza had been costuming her earlier, even when a few of her coworkers came into the room in search of adhesive or a prosthetic or a certain hair color for a beard and mustache.
Seth was a professional as well, she reassured herself, as she once again looked at the back of him.
And no. She didn’t want to leave.
She loved the way he looked, the way he moved. He wore a pair of jeans, a white T-shirt, a supple black leather vest, a thick platinum watch that struck her as very masculine on his strong forearms. and a pair of sturdy leather work boots. She was struck by how he moved with such graceful economy, despite his largeness.
She was also struck by how good his butt looked in his jeans.
He turned around, and she again was staring into his unyielding face. She forced her fussing hands to her sides. His gaze dropped slowly over her, and Gia felt a pleasant pressure in her body dipping in tandem with it. His stare lowered over belly and hips and lingered between her thighs. Something hot leapt into his eyes.
So much for her concern that he’d changed his mind about finding her attractive.
His gaze wandered back up her body, scoring her. Her breasts suddenly felt very heavy and . . . obvious. He took three steps toward her, and Gia swore her heart jumped directly into her throat.
“What about the rest?” he asked gently, one dark brow slanting.
“These”—she waved stupidly at her shorts and shirt—“are mine. They aren’t part of the costume.”
“I know,” he said, coming closer still. “Do you want to take them off too?”
The ensuing silence throbbed in her ears. Her heart chugged like a restrained locomotive. This is really going to happen.
“Yes,” she replied honestly through numb lips.
He just nodded, holding her stare. Was he a magician, the way he hypnotized her?
“Take off the top first.”
It felt very difficult to draw a breath, as if the air in the room had become too thick for her lungs to process. She was very aroused, but still . . . she hesitated.
“How many times have you said that to a woman after removing a costume or makeup?” she managed to ask because her tongue had gone very thick.
“Seriously?” he asked, eyebrows arched. She nodded. “Never. Do you believe me?”
“Yes,” she whispered. Naïve or not, she trusted her instincts. Plus, she knew about Seth from Liza. If this were par for the course for him, Liza would have told her. “Would you believe I’ve never agreed to something like this before?” she croaked, her fingers playing with the bottom of her tank top.
He took another step and came to a halt. “To doubt it never crossed my mind.”
She gave him a shaky, grateful smile.
Shocked by her uncharacteristic brazenness, she pulled her tanktop up over her swollen lungs and aching breasts.
Read the Reviews
“ONLY FOR YOU… will blow readers’ socks off. Kery knows exactly what she’s doing when she pens these addicting tales and seems to connect to book lovers’ emotions with ease.”
RT Book Reviews
“Kery’s third One Night of Passion contemporary (after Exposed to You) combines sizzling heat with a cozy vibe. Those who relish domestic eroticism with a kinky yet tender trajectory will be satisfied.”
“A must-read romance…Only For You has it all.”
USA Today’s Happy Ever After
“The writing here is so strong it’s nothing less than thrilling.”
Heroes and Heartbreakers
“Another winner in the series, fans will be pleased.”
“Hot and steamy. Kery’s powers of description are impeccable.”
Debbie’s Book Bag
“Beth Kery is a master of erotic fiction.”
The Reading Café
“A lovely story and a great addition to the One Night of Passion series.”
Night Owl Reviews – A Reviewer Top Pick
“5 insanely HOT stars for Smexyness”