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Pick Any Flirty & Feisty Romance Book

Pick Any Flirty & Feisty Romance Book
Feel the heat, chemistry, then laugh, cry, travel to exotic places & drool with suspense!

Wednesday, 9 May 2018

"Join me on my bed..." #Free #read ~ Your Christmas Gift


 Welcome to Free Read!



Dear Romance Readers,

As I promised, I have posted Chapter One from my last Christmas love story, Your Christmas Gift for you to enjoy.
Now, sit back with a wine glass in your hand and meet Kimani and Femi, two hot and sexy characters who will keep you on the edge of your seat with suspense.
Happy reading.

Don't miss reading about my rogue hero with a brutal tongue and the woman with killer curves out to tame him.

Read Chapter One for FREE!!!


~ A Flirty & Feisty Romance Novel ~ 


~ A Flirty & Feisty Romance Novel ~

~ Their attraction sizzles…like a wild flame ~

Femi Oladokun stretched out on the sofa at his hideaway penthouse days before Christmas. Darkness eats up his heart slowly because he is a therapist who cannot help himself. In the last six years, he has spent the festive season alone. When a dark-haired woman with killer curves, slanted eyes and feisty boldness storms inside his suite like a cyclone asking him to pack his belongings, he knows he must kick her out. Yet, his stomach walls curl with tension as she rattles his peace.


Tired after her long-haul flight two days before Christmas, Event Planner, Kimani Carter just wants a luxury bed to lie on in the penthouse she is told is vacant. This season she knows her single Christmas wish will go unanswered as always and the dark pain in her heart will linger. All she wants this year is to be alone. But when she strolls inside the suite, the drop-dead gorgeous, tattooed man splayed on the sofa donning only hip-hugging grey boxers and a brutal tongue send her body and her holiday into utter confusion.

Will the season work its magic to bring Femi and Kimani their Christmas gifts?

From the Author of All of Me ~ A Sweet & Steamy Romance


Chapter One




Sicily, Italy


“What the heck are you doing in my suite?” Femi sputtered, leaping out of the lilac upholstered sofa with his hands gesturing toward the dark-haired woman who just marched inside his penthouse.


He did not bother to pull up his low-hanging, hip-hugging grey boxers, the only piece of clothing on his body.


“I had no idea you had checked in at all. There has been a mix up, Mr. Femi,” Lorenzo, the hotel manager explained his eyes huge on his tanned face.


Standing beside Lorenzo with her brow creased was a tall woman dressed in a fancy, burgundy fitted coat. The fur trim around the hood spilled backwards.


Femi paced in front of the woman, his stomach walls tightening at the gleaming, slanted dark brown eyes hooked to his as she shrugged out of her coat.


Fine cheekbones groomed dark brows and long lashes on an oval face with her nose sculpted and polished to a glossy brown sheen, this woman oozed enough sex appeal to rock the entire Taormina Resort in Sicily.


“Don’t bother taking that off!” Femi quickly inserted, handing her the cold clothing. “There’s no room for you here.”


If she as much as hung her bum anywhere in the suite, his intended quiet Christmas holiday would be ruined. This season was his to spend alone. He did not need any company, no matter how stunning.


Ignoring his demand, she went ahead, unzipped her cream knee-high boots and dismounted from the three-inch heel as if she had come home to roost. Without her shoes, he was a good few inches taller than her. Not more than three or four. She was a tall woman, about six feet.


“I just said there’s no room for you in my suite. Aren’t you listening?” Femi repeated with a few hand gestures at the door. What would it take to get through to this thick-headed woman?


Stretching back up, she folded her arms beneath her breasts.


Even though her cleavage was sheltered by the cream jumper dress that stopped on her sleek brown thighs, her boobs pushed forward, and he swallowed slowly. The belt tied to one side on her dress pinched her waist so that her top and bottom curves were displayed in a seductive and chic style.


“Mr. Hotel Manager, do something!” the woman spat through tight lips, swinging her hips, so she half-faced Lorenzo.


Wow! The risky bomb, as he hurriedly named her in his head was blessed with generous curves, no doubt, but she had no right to waft into his sanctuary and refuse to leave.


“Look here,” Femi told her in no uncertain terms. “I’ve got exclusive use of this suite. Please make your way out. I’m trying to be very polite.”


Instead of doing as she was instructed, the woman who still had no name turned to the manager, her laser sharp eyes wide with irritation.


“I just paid nearly triple the rate for this suite and I expected it to be empty. I need my space and peace. No compromise. Give him the marching orders, please.”


Bang on, she spewed an American accent–distinct as daylight. Interesting twist thought Femi as he almost laughed in her beautiful face.


“Am I supposed to crawl out of here with my tail between my legs?” asked Femi, his tone wry. “Can’t you see you’re disturbing my peace and quiet?”


Dressed to impress, she oozed a sensual style he would have found alluring under different circumstances. Surely, the way she crashed into his penthouse with a bang, she could not hope for a little space and peace. This was his turf. And he did not share his sanctuary with any woman.


Lorenzo bowed his head a couple of times in Femi’s direction before responding. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Femi. I had no idea you had checked in, I wouldn’t have re-booked the room. I told Miss Kimani it was always reserved at this time of the year.”


Reserved you said, not occupied!” Kimani snapped, walking in and looking around as if she owned the entire resort.


Making a wide arc with both hands, Femi retorted.


“Well, as you can see, Miss Kimani, the room is booked and occupied till the New Year. Lorenzo, confirm to her, I reserve it all-year-round, not just at Christmas time.” Turning to Kimani, he gestured to the door. “I suggest you find another room or go to a different hotel, Ma’am.”


He made no attempt to throw on a shirt or a robe. He had every right to relax in his room, nude or semi-nude.


Dark brown eyes beaming with fury and impatience tasered his as she sat on one of the lilac upholstered armchairs.


“There’s no way I’m going anywhere tonight or any other night until the New Year,” Kimani insisted with her finely-shaped glossy lips pressed into a firm line. “I don’t want my money back because I already paid more than it’s worth. Find yourself another room anywhere in Taormina and give me the privacy I need. You’ve got no choice in this matter.”


Walking towards the bed, Femi threw himself across the king-size bed, spread out his arms and legs, moving them to form the shape of a snow angel on a fresh snow bed. “Since you’re going to be stubborn about this situation, you’re welcome to join me on my bed for the night.”


Kimani launched to her feet and shot daggers at him with her eyes while Femi looked in Lorenzo’s direction and gave him a sly wink.


“Lorenzo, leave us to settle our differences. Miss Kimani needs a lot more convincing than I thought.” It was an order, not a plea and Lorenzo pulled his palms together and nodded in understanding.


“There’s no way I’m sharing this suite with you!” Kimani protested with her eyes dimming to narrow slits as she looked to Lorenzo for support.


Bowing his head low so that his dark hair brushed his knees, Lorenzo scuttled out of the room mumbling, “I’m sorry, Miss Kimani. This should never have happened. Sorry.”


Releasing a soft chuckle while lying on his back, Femi back-pedalled from his earlier stance.


“I’ll advise you to make yourself comfortable. Although I had great plans to be alone throughout this Christmas season, I’ll not send you out on your pretty backside tonight if you agree not to distract me with your stylish curves.”


“I beg your pardon?” Kimani spat out, her lips curled into a sneer. “Who do you think you are? I’m not a charity case. I paid for this penthouse and you’re squatting with me. Once you get off the bed, please make it tidy. All I want for Christmas is peace and quiet from a troublesome world. The last thing I need is you telling me what to do in my room.”


With both hands now folded behind his head, Femi snarled.


“Get it straight! The only thing we have in common is that we want peace and quiet. We’re mature adults. I guess we can share a room, a living area and bathroom without engaging in squabbles. There’s ample room for two. Now, that’s the reality, so stop complaining.”


At least, if his Christmas was going to be busy, he would prefer it to be with a woman who was easy on the eyes, even if she was the ice queen personified.


“If you make your bed on the sofa, and leave the room when I need to shower, I guess we can make do until you find some other place. Seriously, I don’t need your company. I snore, I sleepwalk, and I fart at will and it stinks!”


Even as she reeled out her awful traits, her face did not break into a smile. But he could not hold back, breaking into a deep-throated laugh at the fact Kimani confessed she farted at will.


“Have you farted since you walked in here?”


“If I did, I would not tell you. But you would know.”


Crisp with her words, she unbelted her dress and removed the pins from her long hair, shaking the dark tresses with vigour. The black curls formed a stunning pattern across her shoulders, a beautiful contrast against her cream dress.


Stamping down any shade of interest in her physical appearance, he cleared his throat.


“Get it on record. I’m booked to stay here and I fully intend to remain here until after New Year’s Day. January second to be precise. Not a day earlier. If you hate the sight of me, you’re more than free to make your room elsewhere.”


“Lawd, have mercy!” Kimani said through closed lips. “What kind of mess have I found myself in again? From one dirty confusion to another?”


The second part of her tirade was almost lost under her breath, but he caught the tail end of it.


“This is a mess for sure, caused by your lack of planning. If you had booked well ahead, you wouldn’t be sharing my space. You should be grovelling at my feet for keeping you in this place. Another man would be asking for something personal in return.”


Kimani whipped her head around to face him.


“Get a grip on yourself, arrogant hypocrite! You’ve no idea what you’re talking about. If you had pre-booked, would you be sharing my suite? The manager had no clue you had sneaked in through the back door. Why can’t he throw you out of this penthouse by the way? Do you have something on him?”


Crossing his feet at the ankle, Femi spoke with the patience he reserved for restless young kids.


“Didn’t you hear me say I reserve the room all-year-round? I don’t share this room with anyone, especially not during Christmas season. Count yourself lucky.”


“Rogue!” she breathed harshly. “Stop sounding as if I’m begging you to take me in like I’m penniless. I want the triple rate I paid for this place back in my account.”


Shrugging, Femi gave her a patient nod as if she was a needy toddler. Then he stroked his finely-groomed beard before he retorted.


“The Ashbee Hotel can refund your money in full. You might as well make your way out of here and find yourself a cozy room somewhere. That way, both of us can have the peace and quiet we want.”


Making her way to her suitcases by the door, she snorted. “If there’s room somewhere else why don’t you go there and stop ranting in my ears?”


Laughing at the outrageous expression on her face, Femi grabbed one soft pillow and rested his head on it. “Strip to your underwear and chill out with me on my bed.”


“What?” she choked, her mouth splitting far down to her shoulder. “You must be out of your filthy mind if you think I’m going to strip in front of you. What do you take me for? A cheap whore?”


Femi grinned. He was beginning to enjoy the power play between them. Kimani did not back down without a fight. For the first time in years, his body roared to life.


Hot blood sang in his veins and the hairs on his neck stood tall. It was pure bliss to meet a woman who could stand her ground when cornered by a man like him.

Leaning on one elbow, he stared at her. “Fine. So long as you don’t expect me to throw on clothes to pacify your prude outlook, we’re good.”


Staring at him wide-eyed, she pointed at him. “You’re such a pompous swine!” She then snatched one brown suitcase and rolled it to the bathroom, slamming the door so hard, he gritted his teeth.


“Bloody enraging woman!” he roared, so she could hear him above the deafening sound echoing around the room.


Gone was the peace he had relished since he sneaked in here two nights ago. Drained from all the troubles plaguing his mind, he had decided to spend Christmas in Sicily, away from his family and friends. Now it seemed even that was too much to hope for at this time. Kimani stormed through the door and stole his attempt at reclaiming a thread of sanity.


However, a smile popped on Femi’s face when he recalled Lorenzo’s shocked expression when he saw him on the sofa. Femi had not mentioned he was checking in and for two days, he had locked himself inside, feasting on cold food and snacks, instead of ordering hot meals.


The rushing sound of water interrupted his muse. He listened for a few seconds, concluding Kimani was having a shower. Did she really expect him to leave the room to give her privacy? Christ!


He curled his fingers around the edges of the pillow and tightened them until his fingers almost broke in two. His holiday was officially over.


Try as he could, disturbing images of Kimani’s naked body as he imagined littered his vision. He rolled on his chest and switched on the jazz music channel on his smartphone.


A while later, too far away in his thoughts, Femi did not hear Kimani walk in from the bathroom until the bed dipped by his butt. He pressed the button to cut short the music before he scrambled to sit up.


Dragging in a rough breath of her uplifting flowery scent, he stared at the woman’s hips now wrapped in a red mini skirt and an asymmetrical black top that clung desperately to her full breasts and narrow waist.


“Can we start again? My name is Femi Matthew Oladokun. And you are?”


Instead of giving him an answer, she kept her gaze averted as she clasped on a silver bangle wristwatch.


“I’m sorry I was being difficult earlier,” he carried on. “I really don’t want to have a terrible time with you here. If we must share this suite, we can at least interact like mature adults. What do you think?”


Still, she slipped a silver bracelet on her other hand and shook her dark tresses. An overwhelming fragrance of jasmine and roses filled his lungs and he suddenly had an urge to cuddle her across his chest and whisper sweet nothings in her ears. Maybe not to have sex, just to indulge in a harmless banter and laughs. Harmless chats with women had become a rare experience for him.


Stretching her mini skirt down her full thighs, Kimani posted her round backside in his face while sliding her feet into a pair of red feathered slippers, before she made her way to the door.


“Where are you going?” he asked, alarmed she was going to grant his wish to leave him in peace, albeit temporarily.


By the door, she strolled back inside, dug into her handbag, fished out her purse and threw a sultry glance over her shoulder.

“Enjoy your peace and quiet in my absence. My name’s Kimani Carter, from a small town called Kettering in Maryland, USA. Have you heard of it?” Her expression insinuated he had no clue where USA was on the map.


Before he could reply, Kimani banged the door.


And Femi bolted out of the bed, pacing the room as if he were in solitary confinement. He knew it! Kimani was African-American. The isolation he craved with all his heart now seemed to imprison him. Mock him. Only he was not laughing at all.


Frowning at the swing of emotions clutching his chest, Femi dashed to the shower, scrubbed his body with quick strokes and dressed up within fifteen minutes. Not to be outdone, he dug out his cologne, dabbed a few drops along his jaw and neck before he made his way downstairs. Now his cover was blown, he might as well feed his hungry stomach.


Down in the smaller restaurant, two young couples and an elderly couple sat at separate tables. Each couple bowed their heads, whispering as they ate their meals.


Femi made his way to the bay window facing the swimming pool and the Mediterranean Sea. Thankfully, the curtains were not drawn, and the fire thrived, casting a warm shroud across the room. Even this late at night, Mount Etna in the distance formed a glorious backdrop for the deep blue sea and glorious, faint grey sky.


He strolled to the single purple sofa nearest to the window and stopped short.

“Are you following my shadow?” Kimani grumbled with her face upturned before she took a sip from her mug of coffee. “What happened to the peace you fought to get?”


“That’s the seat I was aiming for, you know,” Femi confided, lowering his head. “If I wasn’t ready to make you feel at home in Europe, I would have asked you to get up and find yourself another seat.”


Coffee splashed on the saucer in Kimani’s hands as she choked.


Femi quickly reached for the mug and saucer and took it out of her hands. “Take it slow,” he cautioned with a dry grin, offering her the green paper napkin on the nest of table by her side.


Wiping her lips with the napkin, Kimani shook her head. “You’re implausible! Do you own this place or something?”


Giving her a lazy shrug, he curled his lips into a wry grin. “Who knows?”


“Get away from me. I want to be by myself because I like my own company.”


“What can I offer you, sir?” Lorenzo asked, appearing behind Femi as if summoned by his presence.


Hunger pangs clawed Femi’s stomach and he grunted, rubbing one palm across his abs. The grey body-fitting, ribbed, long sleeve thermal top made it easy for him to nurse his tetchy belly.

“Thanks Lorenzo. Whatever is available is fine by me.”


“We’ve got your special dish available,” Lorenzo informed him with a grin Femi interpreted as an apologetic one.


“Fine. I’m famished. Give me a treat. And offer the lady whatever she wants on my bill.”


“I’ve had my fill,” Kimani countered, staring at Lorenzo without a smile. “I don’t want anything else, thank you.” She had clearly not forgiven the manager for taking sides with Femi in his suite.


Bowing his head to chat to her, Femi whispered. “Don’t be snobbish. It doesn’t suit you. Americans are warm and friendly people.”


Tilting her head away from his, she opened her mouth, had second thoughts and closed it.


“Bring us champagne later,” he instructed Lorenzo with an understanding beam.


“Yes, sir.” Moving slightly to face Kimani, Lorenzo continued. “What else would you like me to offer you, Ma’am?”


Glaring at Femi, Kimani bit her lower lip before she replied.


“Do you have crispy butterfly prawns and chicken nachos?” Her tone was sardonic as if she did not expect the hotel to serve both the Chinese and Mexican delicacies.


“With sweet or sour sauce, guacamole, salsa, humus or sour cream?”


With her eyes fixed on Femi’s fingers sweeping over his abs, Kimani replied Lorenzo. “Sweet and sour sauce for the prawns please. And salsa for the nachos.”


Giving her a happy nod, Lorenzo added. “Would that be all, Ma’am?”


“Yes, thank you. I want my bill. The moment any other room or suite is free, please let me know.” Although she spoke to Lorenzo, her eyes remained on Femi’s hands as if she was hypnotized.


Again, Lorenzo nodded with no promise in his eyes, only in his words. “You’ll be the first to know, Ma’am, if a room becomes available.”


After Lorenzo went his way, Femi took up the seat to Kimani’s right. He sat and leaned forward. “I’ve decided I don’t want to spend the next week fighting with you. Can we start over? It’s two days to Christmas.”


“After you attacked me personally you think I’m going to let my guard down around you? Well, I’m not sorry to disappoint you. I’ve never met anyone so insolent in my life. I’m not fighting with you, I’m just cautious. Let me be.”


Shaking with laughter at her outburst, Femi rubbed his palms over his face. “I’m a Nigerian man. Come on, haven’t you heard we love to yak? By the way, you sound like a diva and you sure act like one. I said I was sorry, so get over it!”

Breathing in slowly, Kimani glared at him. “You’re making me see red. I left the suite for you, yet you chased me down here. I just want to spend time alone. If that makes me a diva, so be it. Get over yourself. Not every woman cares if you’re sculpted to perfection from head to toe.”


Grinning in her face, he stroked his short beard. “Wow! So, you’ve noticed too? It’s not often I come across divas, so permit me if I don’t know how to pander to your needs. Loosen up and we’ll get along just fine.”


Speaking through clamped teeth, she muttered. “We don’t have to get along. We share the same collection of rooms and that’s all there is to it. We don’t have to wipe each other’s backside.”


Giving in to the deep laughter welling up inside, Femi threw his head back and indulged in a long laugh. When he was done, he stated in a gruff tone.


“The problem is, that doesn’t work for me. I don’t need to wipe your backside. Although I might have other sweet ideas about what I want to do with your curvy backside. Or do you want me to kiss you to submission?”


Kimani bounced to her feet and whirled around. But Femi was faster, blocking her flight.


“You’re intolerable!” Kimani fumed. “This isn’t funny. Not one bit!”


Putting up both hands, he appealed. “Calm down. You got down and dirty and I did the same. I’m just winding you up. Why would I kiss you without your consent? If I kiss you, it would be because you begged me to and I’ll turn you down anyway. My lips aren’t meant to kiss every woman in sight, lovely-looking or not.”


Kimani burst into laughter, but she swiftly covered her mouth with both hands while she squeezed her eyes shut, rocking on her feet.


Thank God,” Femi sighed as a slow chuckle crawled out of his mouth. Something he said finally ripped her angst to shreds. The sound of her laughter warmed his skin, coating his insides with refreshing heat. Tender feelings settled in the pit of his stomach, putting up a soft root.


“Now I know you’re crazy!” Kimani alleged when she stopped shaking with laughter. “Why would I beg you for a kiss?”


Her grey top lip and her slightly pink bottom lip parted in half as if she wanted him to break his rules and kiss her. But he dared not. Kimani looked like she would hit his face without hesitation if he crossed the line. And he had no intention of kissing any woman.


Gesturing at the single sofa, he pleaded. “I agree. You don’t appear like a woman in desperate need for my kiss. Sit down, please.”


Rolling her eyes upward, Kimani returned to her seat. And he shifted his chair slightly to face hers. Now, he could look straight at her to catch her every expression.




Deep inside, this woman seemed like an epitome of grace and loveliness. And it would not be awful to spend time peeling off her cold and rusty outer layers after all.


Maybe this Christmas season just dragged in a mystery bundle for him to unravel.


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