LITMIR.BIZ

      Dear Reader,

      What is it about those tall, dark and dangerously sexy men that fascinates us? You know the ones I mean. He’s the guy who walks into a room and seems to stand a little taller, the one who has a bit of a swagger in his step. He’s the one with the mischievous smile and a gleam in his eye that says he knows everything there is to know about pleasing a woman and that he’d be happy to show you. You also know that getting mixed up with such a man would be asking for trouble.

      Ever wonder what type of woman is brave enough to tangle with Mr Tall, Dark and Dangerously Sexy? Or what type of woman it will take to steal his heart and make him a one-woman man? I did. That’s how I came up with my new book for Desire. I had a wonderful time creating Jackson Hawke and Laura Spencer’s story. I hope you have fun watching them tangle in the boardroom and bedroom on their way to falling in love.

      For a commemorative bookmark or to learn about the next book I’m working on, write to: Metsy Hingle, PO Box 3224, Covington, LA 70434, USA or visit me on the web at www.metsyhingle.com.

      Happy reading!

      Until next time,

       Metsy Hingle

      For the City of New Orleans and its people

      who continue to inspire me

      One

      “I am not for sale, Mr. Hawke.”

      Jackson Hawke bit back a smile as he stared at the woman across the desk. “I’m not trying to buy you, Ms. Spencer. I’m merely offering to employ you.”

      “I already have a job,” she informed him with the cool disdain of a true Southern belle. “I’m the general manager of the Contessa Hotel.”

      He had to give her points for moxie, Jack thought. He had expected any number of reactions to the news that he had acquired the defaulted bank loan on the small New Orleans hotel. He had made a career of taking over financially troubled companies, revamping them and turning the once-failing operations into profit centers. In each case, his presence was seldom welcome. More often than not his arrival was met with trepidation or anger, and in some cases both. He had expected no less from the owners of the Contessa Hotel. What he hadn’t anticipated was defiance. And defiant was the only way to describe the woman seated across from him. Unfortunately for Ms. Laura Jordan Spencer, her defiance didn’t change the fact that he now owned her family’s hotel. “True. But given the circumstances, your position here could prove to be temporary,” he countered.

      “There is nothing temporary about my position here, Mr. Hawke,” she advised him, a hint of temper coloring her voice. “My great grandfather built this hotel nearly a hundred years ago and it’s been owned by the Jordan family ever since. I’m sorry if you were led to believe that we would consider selling the property. But I can assure you, the Contessa is not for sale.”

      “I have a receipt for fifteen million dollars that says otherwise,” he told her.

      “Which I’m sure the bank will refund you once I’ve straightened out this…this misunderstanding.”

      He leaned forward, met her gaze. “Take another look at those documents, Ms. Spencer,” he said, motioning toward the packet of legal papers he’d presented her, which outlined his acquisition of the hotel via her mother’s defaulted bank loan. “There is no misunderstanding. Hawke Industries now owns this hotel.”

      Anger flared in her green eyes. “I don’t care what those papers say. I’m telling you there’s been a mistake,” she insisted and punched the button on the intercom. “Penny, try Mr. Benton at the bank again.”

      “You’re wasting your time,” he told her. He already knew from his meeting with the bank chairman the previous afternoon that the man had left town that morning.

      “The only one wasting my time, Mr. Hawke, is you,” she fired back.

      While she waited for her assistant to place the call, Jack used the opportunity to study her more closely. He noted the almond-shaped eyes, the stubborn chin, the smooth skin and lush mouth. She wasn’t classically beautiful or slap-you-in-the-face sexy. But there was something about her, a sensuality that simmered beneath the all-business exterior. Judging by the quelling look she shot him, his appraisal hadn’t gone unnoticed. Nor had it been appreciated.

      At

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