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“Everyone’s captive in one way or another.”
“Are you?” Had he moved closer? His male scent—expensive wool and subtle musk—tickled her senses.
“Absolutely.” His voice was a low growl that took her by surprise, but not as much as the way he stepped in, lifted her chin deftly with his fingers and pressed his lips softly to hers.
This man is a beast. He chews people up and spits them out. He just confessed as much!
His low moan in her ear made her desire surge.
Was there magic in this place? If so, it might be the dark and scary kind. She certainly didn’t feel fully in control of this situation—or even herself—at this moment.
And there was that family curse to contend with …
His kiss was alternately fierce and tender, drawing her in and taking her breath away. She’d never been kissed like this.
But he’s your enemy.
Dear Reader,
In this book, I was able to give free rein to my passion for castles by creating one for my characters. In the British Isles most castles have been destroyed in one conflict or another, and their ruins dominate the landscape around them with an air of romance and drama. A few medieval castles have resisted the attacks of successive marauders and stand as mighty as when they were built, including Edinburgh and Stirling castles in Scotland.
For this book I had fun imagining an even more ancient castle, with parts dating back to when the Romans attempted—unsuccessfully—to occupy Scotland. My imaginary castle is the seat of the ancient Drummond family, and their impressive legacy has become something of a burden to the man who inherits it. It takes a woman from far away to shake him out of his ordered existence and make him see his majestic home with fresh eyes. I hope you enjoy James and Fiona’s story.
Best wishes,
Jennifer Lewis
About the Author
JENNIFER LEWIS has been dreaming up stories for as long as she can remember and is thrilled to be able to share them with readers. She has lived on both sides of the Atlantic and worked in media and the arts before she grew bold enough to put pen to paper. She would love to hear from readers at [email protected]. Visit her website at www.jenlewis.com.
A Trap
So Tender
Jennifer Lewis
MILLS & BOON
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For Mia
One
Her enemy was handsome. Slate-gray eyes, dark hair and aristocratic features—every inch the Scottish laird.
She shook his offered hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Fiona Lam.”
“James Drummond.”
I know. She smiled sweetly. His handshake was firm and his skin cool to the touch. Her own hand suddenly felt hot and she struggled not to pull it back. The glitzy cocktail party hosted by an international bank hummed around them, bright young things in expensive suits meeting and greeting each other, but somehow they all faded into the background. “I’m new to Singapore. Just moved here from San Diego.”
“Really?” One elegant eyebrow raised.
“I sold my first business and I’m looking around for new opportunities. Do you work here?”
“Sometimes.” He still held her hand. Cheeky devil. No wonder he had a reputation as a ladies’ man. “I have a place in Scotland.”
The grand estate she’d heard about. She didn’t care about that. She did want her hand back, though. It was getting hotter, and an unpleasant tingling sensation had started to trickle up her arm. She gave a firm tug and he released her fingers with the ghost of a smile.
She tried not to shake out her hand. “I’ve heard Scotland’s beautiful.”
“If you like mist and heather.” His steely gaze was totally unblinking. No wonder he intimidated his business rivals.
“You don’t?”
“I inherited them. Don’t really need to have an opinion. Can I get you a drink?”
“Champagne.” She sagged with relief as he turned to find a waiter. This guy was pretty intense. Which was fine. She didn’t have to like him.
She just needed him to like her.
He returned with two bubbling glasses and handed her one. No one had warned her he was so good-looking. It was more than a little disconcerting. In her experience venture capitalists were usually men in their sixties with hair growing out of their ears. She sipped, then tried not to sneeze as the bubbles tickled the back of her throat. She wasn’t a big fan of booze, but she wanted to look as if she fit into James Drummond’s rarefied world.
He raised his sculpted chin. “What brings you to Singapore?”
“I’m looking into a couple of business opportunities.”
Again, his brow lifted. “I’m in business myself. What do you do?”
“I just sold a company that makes decals. Smileworks.” The name usually made people smile. It made her smile and she was still sad to have sold it. But not sad about all the money she’d made on the deal.
“I read about the buyout. Congratulations. That was quite a coup.”
The sparkle of interest in his eyes had intensified. She felt a tiny rush of power—or was it pleasure? “Thanks. It was fun building Smileworks but I’d taken it as far as I could.”
“So what’s next for you?” He leaned
