Title and Author: Under My Skin by Alix Nichols
No. of Pages: 130 Pages
Series: Bistro La Boheme #2
Publication Date: October 11, 2014
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Blurb:
UNDER MY SKIN is the second novel in the addictive BISTRO LA BOHEME series.
This delightful Parisian version of "Four Weddings and a Funeral" will
entertain you with a gripping story, endearing characters and sizzling
romance.
A tall well-dressed guy entered the bistro, dripping rain and hotness. He
stopped by the door and surveyed the room searching for someone, his gaze
lingering on the females...until it met Jeanne's. He beamed and walked
toward her, his eyes trained on her and full of warmth. Did he know her? Was
she supposed to know him?
Feisty bartender Jeanne and geek-turned-hottie Mat embark on an emotional
and sensual roller coaster, as their paths cross at an engagement party, a
baptism and a wedding... not counting all the other times they
"accidentally" run into each other.
And miserably fail to behave with propriety.
But Mat is an ambitious politician running for mayor of his hometown and
going steady with an exquisite woman. He knows exactly where he wants to be
five years from now.
Falling for Jeanne all over again is definitely NOT part of his plan.
I am an avid reader of chick lit, romance and fantasy, caffeine addict and a
badge-wearing Mr. Darcy/Colin Firth fan.
I released my first book at the age of six. It had six postcard-size pages
stitched together and bound in velvet paper. The book was titled "Eliza and
Robert" and had atrocious mistakes in every single word. Some words were
written in mirror image. Unintentionally. I remember being immensely proud
of my creation.
Turns out there's a remarkable constancy to my life: decades later, I still
love the name Robert and the genre romance. As for my spelling and grammar,
they are only marginally better than at age six (thank God for editors!).
I live and work in Paris, France. When not writing, I read romance (what
else?) and spend time with my family.
You can find me on my website (www.alixnichols.com),
Facebook (www.facebook.com/AuthorAlixNichols),
Twitter (@aalix_nichols)
Pinterest (http://www.pinterest.com/AuthorANichols).
A tall well-dressed guy entered the bistro, dripping rain and hotness. He
stopped by the door and surveyed the room. Must be looking for Rob, Jeanne
thought. She tried to peel her gaze off him and focus on the conversation
around her. Easier said than done. Aside from his general attractiveness,
the stranger was full of contrasts that mesmerized her.
He had long legs and narrow hips, yet his upper body was deliciously brawny.
The poor fellow must have a hard time finding suits that fit. Speaking of
suits, his was a sleek number cut from the finest, smoothest wool to grace
La Bohème on her watch. The trendy jacket overlaid the lines of his V-shaped
torso as if it were tailor-made. Which it probably was. On top of all that,
his friendly clean-shaven face sported a masculine nose and a firm jawline.
Just as the mysterious hunk turned to survey her side of the room, Rob
approached him and gave him a big hug. "I'm so glad you made it! It wouldn't
have been a proper engagement party without my future best man."
"It's a matter of having one's priorities straight," the hunk said. "I told
the boss I was leaving at five thirty, whether we were finished or not."
His crooked smile sent a couple of Jeanne's internal organs into a happy
little somersault.
"That's the spirit, man." Rob grinned.
The guy winked. "Having Mom as my boss does have its perks. Where's Lena, by
the way?"
"Fetching her folks. They should be here in half an hour." Rob patted him on
the shoulder. "Now, why don't you give me your wet jacket and go get
yourself a drink. The party doesn't officially begin until eight thirty, so
you can chill and talk to the people you know."
The hunk removed his jacket, uncovering an expensive-looking shirt--and a
better view of his broad chest.
Jeanne swallowed. Was this guy real?
Rob took the wet garment from him and walked away. And then something weird
happened. The hottie remained by the door instead of walking toward the
guests or the bar. He looked around the room again as if searching for
someone--his gaze lingering on the females until it met Jeanne's. He beamed
and walked toward her, his eyes trained on her and full of warmth.
Does he know me? Do I know him?
It was downright impossible that she would forget a stud of this caliber,
even if she had met him during her wild teens.
"Hi, Jeanne. Don't you remember me?" he asked when he was close enough for
her to discern the hint of five-o'clock shadow on his chiseled jaw.
"I'm sorry . . . Are you sure we've met?"
"Every day for almost two years."
Righto. "Next you'll tell me I used to go out with you," she said tilting
her head to the side.
"Unfortunately, you didn't." The dreamboat sounded genuinely sorry. "But it
wasn't for my lack of trying. I spent most of my money eating at this bistro
just so I could see you."
She gave him a puzzled look. Who was he?
"OK, you really don't remember me." He bowed ceremoniously. "Mathieu Gérard,
also known as Mat. I'm a friend of Rob's. We studied together here in Paris
a few years back."
"Mat?" There was no way this guy was Mat. "You can't be him. Mat was . . .
he was . . ."
"Nothing like me?" he prompted, the corners of his mouth twitching.
To put it mildly.
by Lan LLP
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