Title: Fake Engagement, Real Temptation
Author: Joya Ryan
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: January 30, 2017
Publisher: Entangled Brazen
Synopsis
Oh. My. God. Carrie Morgan can’t escape her cheating ex fiancé. She goes on her Hawaiian honeymoon fantasy vacation to prove she’s over him—but he’s there with his mistress in tow. Good thing Carrie’s annoyingly over-protective friend Blake came with her. How’s she going to prove to her ex she’s over him? Easy. One… Two… Three… She grabs Blake and kisses him.
Blake Harris isn’t about to let anyone take advantage of his heartbroken friend Carrie. And that includes himself, even if she’s sexy as sin in that bikini. Then she kisses him—and he’s on fire. Damage done, but he can back off. Except he sees that broken look in Carrie’s eyes. No. Hell no. New plan. He intends to show her ex just what he’s thrown away.
The kisses? For show. The heat? Part of the performance. The private practice sessions? Uh-oh. Those are starting to feel a bit too real…
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Excerpt
Blake Harris had no idea what he was doing staring down
the door of his best friend’s baby sister. Okay, he did have an idea, he just
wasn’t loving it.
Carrie Morgan was on the other side of that door, and
yes, Blake cared about her. He’d known her brother since they were kids. But
this was her wedding. Or it was supposed to be. And now she was on the other
side of the door, in tears, because her scumbag fiancé had abandoned her for
another woman.
Shit. He’d never been close to her. He’d been sixteen
and she’d been nine when his mom had died and he’d spent so many afternoons
with her older brother Lane. But hell. Lane was his best friend. He couldn’t
just let his sister suffer like this.
Blake would go back to his outdoor guiding business in
the mountains soon, bury himself in work, but not before he made sure Carrie
was okay.
He hadn’t even had a chance to see her yet since she’d
not left the bridal suite in forty-eight hours. Even since she’d gotten word
that the groom wasn’t going to show. Could have been worse. She could have been
literally stood up at the altar. At least the piece of shit fiancé had told her
two days before the wedding.
Now, he was staring down her hotel room door and asking
god to open the door.
He knocked twice.
“Carrie?” he called. He heard low music and rustling.
“It’s Blake. Come on, little girl, open up.”
Lane was the closest thing to a brother he had, and
neither distance or time had changed that. Then there was Carrie.
The sweet girl Jake and Lane had spent their teenage
years playing Uno with and looking after. Until Blake had graduated college and
moved to the city.
Shit. He was an ass for not being around more. Poor girl
was likely behind the door crying, and that made him want to punch the douche
bag that had hurt her. Maybe later he’d help Lane hunt the prick down.
Blake took the keycard that Lane had given him out of
his pocket. “I’m coming in,” he announced. “Just want to check on you…”
Blake peeked in. “Carrie?”
He stepped into the room. It was a massive suite with a
sitting area and kitchen. The plush furniture was lined with roses, and unlit
candles were scattered around everywhere. Ah shit, so this was her honeymoon
suite.
He stepped further in and heard the low sound of music
got louder. It was coming from the open bedroom door. He looked in and found—
“What the hell?” he asked, taking in the scene, or
rather the woman before him.
The strawberry blond five feet in front of him was
moving and shaking in the middle of the room. What was more distracting was the
fact that she was doing that in nothing but a pair of panties and matching
white tank top. Her eyes were locked on the wide screen hanging on the wall. He
glanced at the television. She was doing…jazzercise?
“Carrie?” His voice decided to break a little around the
one word he’d said several times but now held a lot more heat. Sure, his blood
felt hot, but his skin was cold.
So this is what shock feels like.
She froze and faced him. “Blake?”
He smiled, and her body remained still while her chest
heaved with deep breaths. While those inhales made the thin cotton stretch over
her breasts in a way that made his mouth instantly water, it was better than
her dancing. Because any more bouncing on her part and he might forget she was
his best friend’s little sister and lose his damn mind wondering how many more
deep breaths it would take to make that tank top non-existent.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, not bothering to
cover up. Something he wasn’t completely upset about since the woman was
smoking hot. She wasn’t a little girl, he knew that. But he’d barely seen her
since she was a teenager. And seeing her now, all woman—worse, his type of
woman—that fact hit harder than the last.
He glanced down, attempting to take a break from
marveling at her, but all he accomplished was getting flashes of those tone
thigh and adorable pink-tipped toes.
Nope. She definitely wasn’t the kid he grew up with
anymore. She was twenty-three with a tight body, perfect ass, and breasts he’d
just learned had no problem doing a Baywatch slow-motion run in place.
She’d invited him to the wedding, but he realized that
she’d likely meant: What the hell are you doing in my hotel room?
“I’m here to see you,” he said.
She nodded as if his answer was good enough and walked
to the bedside table. She seemed…carefree? Not at all the crying woman he’d
expected to find. Then she grabbed a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels off the
table and took a few swigs.
Well that explains things.
“Glad to see you’re staying hydrated,” Blake said. She
wasn’t carefree, she was drunk. And exercising. An odd combination, but he
could see the logic. Drink away the sorrows and get the endorphins going. He’d
try it out himself next time he felt so lonely he forgot why a relationship was
off the table for him.
She winced on her final swig and wiped the back of her
hand over her mouth.
“Yep. Hydrating is important,” she said. “I’ve got to
stick with my video exercise. Been doing this for six months to get ‘bikini
ready’ and if I stop now then…”
She trailed off and folded her lips together as if to fight
off tears.
Ah, hell. Put him between a woman and a man who meant
her harm, he knew what to do. Swing until the other guy went down. But a crying
woman? One who’d already been abandoned by the guy? Yet another sign Blake had
failed by not saying something. Or at least getting here early. Maybe then he
could have caught the scumbag before he disappeared to who knew where.
But nope. Blake’s life and job were a hundred percent on
his time and agenda. Freedom was a heady thing, and he would always be free.
Never tied to a woman, never love, because the loss that came with love was too
much.
But this woman was different. The protective instinct he
had came roaring to the surface at the first sign of water lining her eyes. She
was hurting. Her shoulders slinking. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do
about it. But he so badly wanted to.
She shook her head. “I guess I don’t have to do
the videos anymore now that I’m not going to Hawaii.” She took another swig.
“Guess it didn’t matter how hard I worked out, Kevin left anyway. The whole
time he was cheating! Can you believe that? With his trainer. Which, by the
way, I want a refund on all those ‘classes’ he signed up for to get his own ass
‘bikini ready,’ because I doubt nailing your trainer burns more calories than a
treadmill.”
I'm always excited to read books where pretending is part of the plot. I enjoy how all the reasons it can't or won't work can be minimized or removed when the kissing feels real. So I was totally on board to read this one.
Left in her wedding suite two days before the nuptials, the groom breaks it off. Broken but trying to find herself again, Carrie heads out on her honeymoon with her brothers best friend as her spotter. She doesn't need anyone to watch out for her - until her cheating ex and his girlfriend show up at the same resort. Then the operation fake boyfriend begins!
I felt for Carrie. She's been dealt a miserable blow and she's picking herself up, trying to get herself together. I completely HATE her ex - Kevin. He's demeaning and awful. I can't believe she ever agreed to marry the turd. I was actually really surprised she was going to marry the tool at all. They hadn't been together...as in "together" for more than a year. That might be a bit of concern for most brides. He criticizes all her dreams and minimizes her. I wanted to climb inside the book and slap the man more than once. But Carrie was too focused on her fantasy of having a husband and a family to notice. While I felt for her, I wanted to give her the sisters talk big time. In the end, though, I was proud of her.
As for Blake, I loved him. He's trying so hard to be the gentleman but he just can't hold back his feelings. He's trying to protect Carrie and keep her from being taken advantage of. He wants to protect her from everyone, including himself. He has some baggage and that holds him back. I adored how he was there for Carrie at every turn of the pineapple maze. He made the Hawaii honeymoon a lot of fun. He's protective and very male - definitely my favorite of the characters.
It's a fast read with some yummy sexy times that will have you fanning yourself.
About The Author
National and international bestselling author Joya Ryan is the author of more than a dozen adult and new-adult romance novels. Passionate about both cooking and dancing (despite not being too skilled at the latter), she loves traveling and seeking out new adventures. Visit her online at www.joyaryan.com.
