A HIGH STAKES SEDUCTION

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Authors: JENNIFER LEWIS

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BOOK: A HIGH STAKES SEDUCTION
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In
USA TODAY
bestselling author Jennifer Lewis’s latest, love is a gamble between polar opposites…

Meet Constance Allen: no-nonsense, by the books…innocent. The aboveboard accountant is on a mission to make sure the New Dawn casino’s finances are legit, and maybe even get a promotion…until the millionaire owner seduces the socks off her. Now the conflict of interest threatens her very livelihood, yet she just can’t help it!

Blindsided, John Fairweather never expects a little flirting with the auditor to get so serious so fast. But when her investigation turns up a smoking gun, will all bets be off for their fledgling affair?

What Was Happening?

Her brain wouldn’t form thoughts at all, but her mouth had no trouble responding to his.

Heat rushed through Constance to her fingers, which were suddenly on the soft cotton of his shirt. She felt his hands on her back, his touch light and tender. His tongue met hers, sending a jolt of electricity to her toes.

The stubble on his chin scratched her skin slightly as the kiss deepened. His arms wrapped around her, enveloping her in their embrace. She dug her fingers into the roping muscle of his back, plucking at his shirt as their lips moved together.

A humming sound startled them both and they broke the kiss. “My phone,” he murmured in a low voice. He didn’t reach for it. Still frowning slightly, he raised a thumb and smoothed a strand of hair from her cheek.

She blinked, wondering what had just happened. And why? “I really must…” She wasn’t even sure what she really must do. Go to bed? Take a cold shower? Throw herself out the window?

Did he really just kiss her?

* * *

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Dear Reader,

There are quite a few romances featuring Native American heroes from the West or the Great Plains, but rarely any from the East Coast. This story takes place in Massachusetts, where my hero, John, has recently gathered the remains of his small tribe, sought formal recognition from the government and jumped all the legislative hurdles required to open a casino. I invented an imaginary tribe inspired by the story of the Mashantucket Pequots, who bounced back from near extinction and created the Foxwoods Casino in Connecticut. Massachusetts may in fact soon have a tribal casino, since the Mashpee Wampanoag—who gained official recognition as a tribe in 2007—are planning to open one in their Cape Cod town.

My heroine, Constance—who thoroughly disapproves of gambling—has been sent to investigate the casino’s books, and is disturbed to find herself attracted to its charming and charismatic owner. Can you say “conflict of interest”? I hope you enjoy John and Connie’s story.

Best wishes,

Jennifer Lewis

A HIGH STAKES SEDUCTION

Jennifer Lewis

Books by Jennifer Lewis

 

Harlequin Desire

 

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†The Cinderella Act
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†The Deeper the Passion…
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A High Stakes Seduction
#2334

 

Silhouette Desire

 

The Boss’s Demand
#1812
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#1847
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#1891
*Millionaire’s Secret Seduction
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#1977
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*The Hardcastle Progeny
^Royal Rebels
†The Drummond Vow

 

Other titles by this author available in ebook format.

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
.

For Dwnell

Acknowledgments

Many thanks to my editor Charles Griemsman.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

Excerpt

One

“J
ust get rid of her as quickly as possible. She’s dangerous.”

John Fairweather scowled at his uncle. “You’re crazy. Stop thinking everyone’s out to get you.”

John didn’t want to admit it, but he too was rattled by the Bureau of Indian Affairs sending an accountant to snoop through New Dawn’s books. He glanced around the grand lobby of the hotel and casino. Smiling staff, gleaming marble floors, paying customers relaxing on big leather couches. There was nothing he didn’t love about this place. He knew everything was aboveboard, but still...

“John, you know as well as anyone that the U.S. government is no friend of the Indian.”


I’m
friendly with them. They gave us tribal recognition. We ran with it and built all this, didn’t we? You need to relax, Don. They’re just here to do a routine audit.”

“You think you’re such a big man with your Harvard degree and your Fortune 500 résumé. To them you’re just another Indian trying to stick his hand in Uncle Sam’s pocket.”

Irritation stirred in John’s chest. “My hand isn’t in anyone’s pocket. You’re as bad as the damn media. We built this business with a lot of hard work and we have just as much right to profit from it as I did from my software business. Where is she, anyway? I have a meeting with the contractor who’s working on my house.”

The front door opened and a young girl walked in. John glanced at his watch.

“I bet that’s her.” His uncle peered at the girl, who was carrying a briefcase.

“Are you kidding me? She doesn’t look old enough to vote.” Her eyes were hidden behind glasses. She stood in the foyer, looking disoriented.

“Flirt with her.” His uncle leaned in and whispered. “Give her some of the old Fairweather charm.”

“Are you out of your mind?” He watched as the woman approached the reception desk. The receptionist listened to her, then pointed at him. “Hey, maybe that is her.”

“I’m serious. Look at her. She’s probably never even kissed a man before,” Don hissed. “Flirt with her and get her all flustered. That will scare her off.”

“I wish I could scare you off. Get lost. She’s coming over here.”

Plastering a smile on his face, John walked toward her and extended his hand. “John Fairweather. You must be Constance Allen.”

He shook her hand, which was small and soft. Weak handshake. She seemed nervous. “Good afternoon, Mr. Fairweather.”

“You can call me John.”

She wore a loose-fitting blue summer suit with an ivory blouse. Her hair was pinned up in a bun of some kind. Up close she still looked young and was kind of pretty. “I’m sorry I’m late. I took the wrong exit off the turnpike.”

“No worries. Have you been to Massachusetts before?”

“This is my first time.”

“Welcome to our state, and to the tribal lands of the Nissequot.” Some people thought it was cheesy when he said that, but it always gave him a good feeling. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No! No, thank you.” She glanced at the bar, looking horrified, as if he’d just thrust a glass of neat whiskey at her.

“I mean a cup of tea, or a coffee.” He smiled. It would to be quite a challenge to put her at ease. “Some of our customers like to drink during the day because they’re here for fun and relaxation. Those of us who work here are much more dull and predictable.” He noticed with chagrin that his uncle Don was still standing behind him. “Oh, and this is my uncle, Don Fairweather.”

She pushed her glasses up on her nose before shoving out her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

Don’t be so sure,
John wanted to tease. But this was a business meeting. “Let me take you up to the offices, Ms. Allen. Don, could you do me a favor and see if the ballroom is set up for the Shriners’ conference tonight?”

His uncle glared at him, but moved off in the right direction. John heaved a sigh of relief. It wasn’t always easy working with family, but in the end it was worth the hassle. “Let me take your briefcase. It looks heavy.”

“Oh, no. I’m fine.” She jerked away as he reached toward her. She was jumpy.

“Don’t worry. We don’t bite. Well, not much, anyway.” Maybe he should flirt with her. She needed someone to loosen her straitjacket.

Now that he’d got a better look at her, he could see she wasn’t quite as young as he’d first assumed. She was petite but had a determined expression that showed she took her job—and herself—very seriously. That gave him a perverse urge to ruffle her feathers.

He glanced at her as they headed for the elevators. “Is it okay if I call you Constance?”

She looked doubtful. “Okay.”

“I do hope you’ll enjoy your time at New Dawn, even though you’re here to work. There’s a live show in the Quinnikomuk room at seven and you’re most welcome to come see it.”

“I’m sure I won’t have time.” Mouth pursed, she stood and stared at the elevator doors as they waited.

“And your meals are on the house, of course. Our chef used to work at the Rainbow Room, so our food here is as good as any fancy restaurant in Manhattan.” He loved being able to brag about that. “And you might want to reconsider about the show. Tonight’s performer is Mariah Carey. Tickets have been sold out for months.”

The elevator opened and she rushed in. “You’re very kind, Mr. Fairweather—”

“Please call me John.”

“But I’m here to do my job and it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to enjoy...perks.” She pushed her glasses up her nose again. The way she pursed her lips made him think how funny it would be to kiss them. They were nice lips. Plump and curvy.

“Perks? I’m not trying to bribe you, Constance. I’m just proud of what we’ve built here at New Dawn, and I like to share it with as many people as possible. Is that so wrong?”

“I really don’t have an opinion.”

* * *

When they arrived at the floor with the offices, Constance hurried out of the elevator. Something about John Fairweather made her feel
very
uncomfortable. He was a big man, broad shouldered and imposing, and even the large elevator felt oddly small when she was trapped in there with him.

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