Title: What you wish for
Author: Gina Wynn
Genre: Romantic, Woman Fiction
Release Date: May 12
Tour Date: May 9 – 12
Hosted By Teaser Addicts PR
When Maggie Forrester wakes up naked in bed with her boss, iceman Will Brian, she’s sure it must be a dream. Or a feverish hallucination at the very least. But magic takes over when she begins to experience an impossible other life—complete with an alternate husband—and she’s forced to confront the reality of the man she loves versus the man she’s fallen in love with.
After secrets she believed long buried surface, both of Maggie’s realities are threatened. As the truth of her past comes to light, she must decide which man she truly loves and which life she wants to live—if the choice is even hers to make. Sometimes, true love is even worth wishing for.
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Chapter 1 Part 1
His knee rested against the back of my leg. A possessive arm wrapped over my waist, and a forehead nestled against my hair. Jake must have arrived home earlier than he expected from the stag weekend and melded to me during the night. We lay skin against skin, and I relaxed into his hold as warmth and familiarity seeped from him. The bubble of safety only my husband could provide surrounded me.
A smile tugged the corner of my lips as naughty thoughts of pleasure yet-to- come flashed through my head. I didn’t even bother to open my eyes as I wriggled around to return his hug, being sure to inject enough movement to bounce him awake. His chest rose and fell against my cheek with his every breath, and his heartbeat thudded in my ear. Home was where that heart was.
“Good morning, Maggie.” His melted chocolate voice, still drowsy with sleep, tickled my neck.
Panic jolted me as my eyes flew open, and I launched over the side of the bed, failing in my attempt to look away as I did so. With the long glance I took by mistake, I’d require brain bleach to scrub him from my mind. I huddled out of his line of sight with my stare—strong enough to have burnt a hole through the man—firmly fixed on unfamiliar carpet.
Bloody hell. My boss. All of him. In the bed I’d exited at warp speed.
I risked another quick glance in his direction. He lay propped on his side, dark hair tousled, smiling at me in a new lazy way. Bloody, bloody hell. I repeat, my boss. My boss, Will Brian.
Never Will Brian, always Mr. Brian. I corrected myself to the office formality he insisted on as I tried to look at him without seeing anything but his face. Holy chest skin, Batman. Well-defined muscular temptation in flesh form. Mr. Brian with really sexy bedhead. Bloody hell, again.
The horror crawling through me shut down all rational thought, narrowing my entire focus to the bedroom. His bedroom?
One room. Me. Him.
The devil had woken up with frostbite. It was the only possible explanation to my world going mad. I inhaled a shaky breath, my brain stuck on one thought. Mr. Brian. Surely, I harboured zero attraction to him? Especially as he favoured issuing orders to me in a snappy coffee-breath voice in our usual day-to-day routine. Waking in his arms was quite the quantum leap from our normal yes, Mr. Brian, of course, Mr. Brian, I’ll hold all your calls, Mr. Brian relationship.
I closed my eyes against the view, although it didn’t help me ignore him. His image had seared itself to the inside of my eyelids, and no girl wanted a permanent reminder of her boss.
Really. No attraction, whatsoever. None at all. Because I’d never noticed his tight, firm… Never mind. Or the way he walked as
I followed him along the corridor at work. Okay. So, I’d taken a non-existent—or maybe ever-so-slight—inappropriate boss fantasy right to sleeping in bed with the man. I’d come a long way.
I’d have said my wisdom was on the line, except ending up in his bed rated way worse than unwise. Spelling Mr. Brian as Mr. Brain on company documents was unwise—and stupid. Filing January invoices in December was unwise—and, according to Mr. Brian, worse than stupid. This…this verged on being very, very bad—and so much more than stupid. Unforgiveable, if I forced myself to be honest.
Note to self: Career suicide—never the way to ask for a pay increase.
“What, no ‘good morning, Will’?” He chuckled, and I didn’t know if my sudden goose bumps came from extreme lack of blankets or the unnervingly attractive sound of his amusement.
His laughter, somehow hauntingly familiar and comforting, wrapped me in unexpected safety. He never laughed at the office or, if he did, he went somewhere private to do it. Either way, he never seemed to find anything funny about working.
In our office.With me at his professional beck and call. The fact I relaxed a little in his presence must have been the result of my
aspirations to find my inner Zen one day. I channelled Yoda and did imaginary breathing exercises, then clamped down on my bubble of hysteria before it rose any
further up my throat. Relaxation, inner calm, and enlightenment? Not likely. I flashed a quick grimace, hoping to trigger the off-switch to my inner-monologue.
“Um. Hi…Will.” My voice came out part mumble, part squeak, as I crouched by the bed, still refusing to look at him as I referred to my always-formal boss by his first name in the most ridiculous of situations.
“Did I scare you?”
I dared a hasty glance, and he arched an eyebrow in amusement. Heat rushed through me, then cold horror as fresh awareness dawned. My buttocks rested on my calves as I squatted. My nipples hardened in the cool air as I huddled outside the covers. I was naked.
The situation couldn’t get worse.
Trying my best for nonchalance, I grasped the closest corner of the duvet and inched it towards me, intent on hiding as much flesh as possible. I released a slow, shallow breath as each fractional movement concealed more of my awkward form.
“Hey!” With laughter in his tone, he snagged the high thread-count covers back to his side of the bed. “You’re making me cold!”
I risked another peek over at him before searing afresh at his identical extreme lack of clothes. Naked…in bed. Oh God, naked in bed with my naked boss. No memory of getting there. And I’d started to grow cold again, too.
Note to self: Things could always get worse. Always.
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From a magical land of castles and kings (Okay, it’s England), Gina doesn’t feel as old as she looks, owns three children who can’t be tamed, and writes in spare – usually stolen – time. She sometimes bakes—not always with quite the desired results, and has found the only solution to keeping the characters in her head quiet is to placate them with lots of other lovely books and worlds. She has been published by Decadent Publishing, who currently have two of her books, both of which are romance titles – “Her Dollmaker’s Desire” and “Her Undercover Christmas”.
Social Media Links:
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/ginawriteswords/
Twitter: @Gina_Wynn on Twitter
Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/2nN13Iz
Goodreads Author Page: http://bit.ly/2oeZVbX