Prince of Midtown / Marriage, Manhattan Style: Prince of Midtown. Jennifer Lewis
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Prince of Midtown by Jennifer Lewis
721 SECRETS
Keeping you up to date on all that goes on at Manhattan’s most elite address!
Americans expect monarchs to be starched and stodgy—Caspia’s crown prince Sebastian Stone is anything but. The part-time resident of apartment 12B is a knockout with onyx eyes and a chiselled chest. And he likes to show off that great bod! Just ask the multitude of women he’s left in his wake. Or ask Tessa Banks, his lucky midtown assistant. Even in her tailored business suits, Tessa has been known to drool after her royal boss. But who could blame her? The sexy prince was sorely missed at the building’s recent landmark party. Rumour has it he has taken his lowly secretary to his homeland palace. They’ve been spotted tête-a-tête at numerous Caspian locations—and not over business. How did a middle-class manager like Tessa morph into Cinderella anyway? We’d love to know her secret! Meanwhile let’s hope Tessa can handle the smooth moves of the legendary lothario. The prince-we-pant-over is due back to 721 any day. Only then can we sort out super-sexy fact from ultra-sexy fiction…
Marriage, Manhattan Style by Barbara Dunlop
721 SECRETS
Keeping you up to date on all that goes on at Manhattan’s most elite address!
The hottest ticket in town—or at least at 721 Park Avenue—is the fifth anniversary party of Reed and Elizabeth Wellington. At Manhattan’s top hotel, it’s the place to see and be seen. And, apparently, there’s lots to see with the Wellingtons. Rumour has it that Elizabeth’s been trying hard to conceive—though one wonders how hard it could be when your husband is a blue-eyed babe like Reed. Maybe that’s why he whisked her away to the French Riviera for a whirlwind vacation. Doting Reed has also hired his wife a chauffeur. Though some suspect the burly driver’s really a bodyguard. For a hopeful mother-to-be? Either way, there have been so many comings and goings up in Penthouse A, so many whisperings, that you can’t help wondering what else Reed is up to. Here’s some advice: baby-making takes two, so get busy, Reed. Meanwhile, we’ll polish the silver spoon!
PRINCE OF MIDTOWN
BY
JENNIFER LEWIS
MARRIAGE, MANHATTAN STYLE
BY
BARBARA DUNLOP
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 she worked in media and the arts before growing bold enough to put pen to paper. Jennifer is happily settled in Yew York with her family, and she would love to hear from readers at [email protected].
To the editors at Desire who’ve encouraged me and supported my books, including Melissa Jeglinski, my first editor Demetria Lucas and my current editor Diana Ventimiglia. Big thanks to the people who read this book while I was writing it, including Amanda, Anne, Anne-Marie, Betty, Carol, Cynthia, Leeanne, Marie and Mel, and my agent Andrea. Once again I am indebted to Amanda and Carol for their business expertise.
Dear Reader,
I grew up surrounded by old hand-coloured editions of fairy tales that had belonged to my mother and her mother and probably her mother, too. When my editor asked me to write this story for the Park Avenue Scandals series, I jumped at the chance to create a prince from an exotic faraway country.
While some of the story takes place in the New York City area where I live with my own handsome prince, I had a great time inventing Prince Sebastian’s homeland of Caspia. I think everyone should have a chance to create a country. What would you like to see in yours? Mine has warm sunny weather (with no humidity!), calm blue seas, rugged terrain for hiking, striking classical architecture and delicious Mediterranean food.
By the time I’d finished writing I was sure the ancient and picturesque nation of Caspia could be found on a map somewhere between Italy and Greece. I was also ready to book a trip there as soon as possible.
I hope you enjoy your journey to Caspia with Sebastian and Tessa.
Jennifer Lewis
One
“You can’t leave.”
Sebastian Stone, Crown Prince of Caspia, spoke with such authority and conviction that for a moment Tessa Banks actually believed him.
Her boss’s hard, handsome features seemed taut with stronger emotion than usual. He shoved a hand through his black hair and rose from the wide antique desk in his Midtown Manhattan office.
Tessa’s stomach contracted with anxiety—and with the infuriating heat of arousal he always stirred in her.
Hang tough. This is your life.
She took a deep breath. “I’ve been your personal assistant for almost five years. I appreciate the freedom and responsibility you’ve entrusted me with, but it’s time for me to move on.”
“Move on?” He blew out an exasperated breath. “This is not a gypsy caravan. It’s a business. I’m counting on you to help me sort out this mess that’s been dumped in my lap.”
Tessa resisted the urge to point out that Caspia Designs might well have more in common with a gypsy caravan than an actual business. The conglomerate of luxury brands was colorful, extravagant and weighted with tradition. A crystal ball might reveal more lucid information than accounting ledgers that could only be described as “creative.”
It was obvious, however, that her boss was not in a joking mood.
He strode across the office and grabbed the pile of papers from his in-box. “Please schedule a meeting tomorrow morning with Reed Wellington. I wish to consult him about my plans for Caspia Designs.” He paused and flicked through the mail, a frown on his majestic brow. “And you must find me a new house sitter.”
What? Did he plan to simply ignore her resignation?
Tessa’s skin prickled with a combination of fury and desperation as she stood in speechless silence.
Her boss shook his head as he studied one paper. Accounts receivable, probably. It wasn’t a pretty sight.
She wished she wasn’t leaving at a time when Sebastian needed help pulling Caspia Designs together. He’d been handed the reins of the once-prestigious company by his father, the king, only to discover it was in a shambles.
But if this was how little concern he showed for her needs, she should be glad to leave him in the lurch.
Things must be serious, though. For one thing, he was wearing a suit. Usually his broad chest bore the insignia of whatever luxury brand he’d most recently convinced to open a boutique in his beloved Caspia. Fendi, Prada, Gucci—if there was a T-shirt with the logo on it, Sebastian cheerfully wore it to celebrate the new partnership.
Today fine gray wool draped his powerful physique. She should heave a sigh of relief that at least she didn’t have to tear her gaze from his impressive biceps.
Right now she was too damn angry to care.
She laid her company PDA on the desk. “I’m moving to California in two weeks. If you prefer, I can leave immediately.”
Sebastian muttered a curse, but still didn’t look up. He flipped over a page of the report she’d put together and traced a column of numbers with a sturdy finger.
Tessa blinked, struggling to keep her breathing under control.