To Love, Honour and Disobey. Natalie Anderson
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Praise for Natalie Anderson:
‘Natalie Anderson is one of the most exciting voices in steamy romantic fiction writing today. Sassy, witty and emotional, her Modern Heat™ are in a class of their own…an extraordinary new talent who can blend passion, drama, humour and emotion in one unforgettable read!’
—CataRomance
‘MISTRESS UNDER CONTRACT is a fantastic contemporary romance full of intense emotions, funny moments, blazing sexual tension and moving romance; don’t miss it!’
—Pink Heart Society
‘Natalie Anderson’s HIS MISTRESS BY ARRANGEMENT is a charming romance of childhood friends reconnecting. It’s both fun and flirty, and conveys the wonderful feeling of finding someone you can truly be yourself with.’
—RT Book Reviews
Excerpt
‘Don’t come near me now.’
Ana halted. ‘Why not?’
‘Because I want to kiss you. I want to do more than kiss you.’
Thwack. The ball hit the tree again. And her legs could hardly hold her up.
‘You have no idea what I want to do to you,’ Seb-muttered, fists clenched, muscles bulging. His bare torso shone with sweat. He was primed.
Heat flooded in her most secret places. And she was the one panting, as if she was the one doing the crazy workout in the heat of the afternoon.
He stopped, stood with his hands on his hips and glared at her. ‘We started something back then, Ana. And for me it isn’t over. I thought it was. But it isn’t.’
Possibly the only librarian who got told off herself for talking too much, Natalie Anderson decided writing books might be more fun than shelving them—and, boy, is it that! Especially writing romance—it’s the realisation of a lifetime dream kick-started by many an afternoon spent devouring Grandma’s Mills & Boon® novels…She lives in New Zealand, with her husband and four gorgeous-but-exhausting children. Swing by her website any time—she’d love to hear from you: www.natalie-anderson.com
Recent titles by the same author:
HOT BOSS, BOARDROOM MISTRESS
BETWEEN THE ITALIAN’S SHEETS
PLEASURED IN THE PLAYBOY’S PENTHOUSE
BOUGHT: ONE NIGHT, ONE MARRIAGE
To Love, Honour and Disobey
By
Natalie Anderson
MILLS & BOON
MODERN Heat
Chapter One
ANA didn’t know what she was going to do with all the photos. She’d taken hundreds—and hadn’t the heart to delete a single one of them. Good thing she’d brought an extra couple of flash cards with her. Africa was everything she’d hoped it would be—wide, wild and incredibly hot. Totally different from anything she’d experienced and she sought to capture it—so she could hold onto the sense of freedom when she returned home.
Even now, with the truck pulled over to the side of the road on the outskirts of Arusha, she had her camera up and ready. She leaned her head over the side to see what it was that Bundy, the driver, was doing. Talking to someone. She could see him smiling up at the stranger who had his back to her.
Ana smiled too, enjoying the view. Bundy’s friend was quite a specimen of a male. Ana let the sensation wash over her—for the first time in almost a year having a pleasurable physical reaction to a man. A sliver of excitement sparked in her belly, the momentary wondering—what if? She wriggled in her seat and angled her head for a better look. Oh, yeah. A definite what if.
She giggled. Fantastic, finally she was back to normal. Whole, healthy and actually able to feel a touch of sexual heat. She lifted the camera, clicked a couple of times. And then zoomed.
Denim shorts showed off strong, bronze calves and hinted that the thighs were equally muscular. Hands rested on narrow hips accentuating a great butt. But it was the shoulders that got her. His torso was one hell of a wide triangle—so wide the fabric of his shirt pulled slightly at the seams. Broad, broad shoulders that were built to be hung onto. The kind of physique to make a woman feel ultra feminine—and as Ana was such a giantess she needed a big man to make her feel feminine. Unfortunately there weren’t enough of them around, and when she did find the occasional one he was never interested in her. For some reason big men always seemed to want petite women. But she could forget that reality for now and just enjoy this present fantasy. She took another picture. His hair was cropped close—almost army kind of close. The tips of her fingers tingled, wondering what it would be like to run her hands over his scalp. Interesting.
But the best thing definitely was his height. Bundy wasn’t short but this guy was a good half head taller than him. Being so horrendously tall herself, Ana had always been drawn to very tall men and he had height in abundance. In fact this guy—from the back at least—had everything. Now if only he’d turn around and fulfil the whole fantasy of male-model gorgeousness.
She shifted her grip on the camera, wriggling her fingers to let out the tension sparking in her muscles. Sex. She was actually thinking about sex.
Wow.
She half laughed again and took another picture. Knowing it was stupid but loving the freedom to enjoy a beautiful male. She hadn’t thought she’d ever have it in her again. After the hell of the last year it was great to discover she did. All she had to do now was return to London and hopefully find the paperwork complete. At last she could get on with everything. She’d known coming here was the right thing to do. And now she’d had the final proof of her recovery and the return of her zest for life—and her libido.
Bundy turned and the two men walked away from her around the front of the truck where she could no longer see them. No matter, she looked at the screen on her camera, smiled her way through the few snaps of the handsomest back view of a boy she’d ever seen.
Ever.
She smiled again. She was over it. She was finally, totally over it.
There was a bang and a bump and the truck jolted forward—on the move again. She glanced up as the others called out. It took a moment for her to realise there was someone new on board and that her fellow passengers were saying hi to him. That he was slowly walking down the aisle towards her. His gaze direct, relentless and inscrutable.
Ana hadn’t known it was possible to be frozen by flaming heat. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think and couldn’t believe her eyes. Yet somehow she was breathing, somehow she was seeing and sadly there was no denying who she was seeing. And she had to believe it.
‘Seb?’