by Evan Purcell
No matter how fast you drive, love has a way of catching up to you.
After starting work in a new city, Cynthia Kent tells herself to stay away from Mark Sable, her boss’s son and Arizona’s most notorious ladies’ man. She can’t handle a relationship, especially with a smooth-talker like Mark.
After a PR disaster that threatens to derail the entire company, Cynthia and Mark are thrown into a cross-country road trip along Route 66. All they have to do is record their travels and look like they enjoy the ride… In other words, they have to lie through their teeth.
What starts out as a rocky road soon turns into a journey of discovery and blossoming romance. Mark isn’t exactly the cad he seems, and Cynthia soon finds out she has a wild side she never knew existed. As the trip continues, Cynthia and Mark discover a lot about their country, each other, and themselves… but can a new romance survive the rough road ahead?
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Release Date: January 30, 2016
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Read a Short Excerpt From The Book…
Just as she pictured, the building was beautiful on the inside. The far wall was a single sloping pane of glass positioned directly above the city. The lobby itself was about three stories tall, with giant lamps hanging from the ceiling. The whole place was a beautiful meld of connecting lines, glass, and metal.
Directly in front of her was one of the Green Streak motorcycles displayed on a circular platform. It was the centerpiece of the lobby, the crowning jewel of SableDyne’s lineup. Cynthia had spent countless hours hunched over identical bikes for the last six months, but she’d never really appreciated Green Streak’s beauty until that very moment. It was pure power. It was speed. It was lightning on a stick.
“Like what you see?” a man said behind her.
Cynthia let out a startled gasp and spun around. She hadn’t heard anyone approach.
“Hi,” the man said, extending his arm. “Welcome to SableDyne. You must be Cynthia Kent.”
“Cynthia,” she mumbled. “Yeah.”
This guy was gorgeous. He was tall, blond, lightly tanned. He wore the hell out of his dark blue suit and red tie. Cynthia wanted to admire his thick shoulders and wide arms, but she couldn’t look away from those green eyes.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said. “I’m Mark Sable.”
Cynthia instantly pulled her hand away from his grasp. Mark Sable? This was Mark Sable? That meant…
“You’re Kenneth Sable’s son,” Cynthia said.
“I see my reputation precedes me.” A half-smirk spread across his face, and Cynthia recognized it as the same smirk that his father wore every time he tried to get a little hands-on with his employees. Most women would find a smile like that attractive, or at least playful. Most women would swoon at those dimples. Cynthia couldn’t even look at him anymore.
Cynthia decided then and there that she would avoid Mark Sable at all costs. If he was anything like his father, that meant he was trouble. She loved SableDyne, but she had nothing but contempt for the Sable family.
“Come on,” Mark said. “I’ll give you the grand tour.” He reached out his hand again, but she pointedly refused to take it. That caught him a little off-guard, Cynthia noticed with delight. A guy like that—with that chin and those green eyes—probably wasn’t used to getting the cold shoulder from women. “Okay, then,” he added. “Follow me.”
Mark Sable led her through the lobby and into the main building. Cynthia was excited to see everything, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Mark was leading her straight into the lion’s den.
* * * *
Mark smiled to himself as he realized that even though Cynthia had no idea where she was going, she was still leading the way. She walked about three paces in front of him, her long legs moving in a steady rhythm.
For the last ten minutes, she hadn’t said a word to him. Well, she asked a few minor questions. She nodded or gave him eye contact every time he pointed out offices or bathrooms or break areas, but she didn’t actively engage him in conversation. He couldn’t tell if she was one of those ball-busting ice queens, or whether she was just taking everything in. Maybe it was the former. Maybe that was why his father had warned him about her. “Watch out for Cynthia Kent,” he had said. “I won’t say why. Just…well, watch out.”
Mark trusted his father’s judgment above everyone else’s, perhaps even his own.
They were up on the third floor now. Her office was here. His was two stories up. He led her to a door marked “Cynthia Kent” in gold letters. “This is it,” he said.