The Cruiser
Rowan Rossler
(The Hustlers Trilogy, #1)
Publication date: March 7th 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Morgan de Rohan-Chabot is Monaco’s most notorious yacht designer. A maverick playboy with a reputation for leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake. Young, talented, not to mention sexy AF, he’s also got a boatload of attitude.
In other words, he’s my perfect public relations challenge. So what if he’s trouble with a capital T? I’m a pro. Vandana Hillman: The Queen of Luxury PR. My life’s just blown up, I need a distraction, and Morgan wants me to join him on the glittering shores of Monaco to help him land a conservative Saudi Prince as a client.
Ten days. In, out. No biggie, right?
What could possibly go wrong?
Excerpt
Vandana POV
Morgan jerks to a halt, eyes ballooning at the sight of me. Between him and a full view of my womanhood is three square inches of fabric and one sheer curtain. Whatever shade of red my face is, I’m sure there’s a tomato out there that will claim me as family.
Of all things, he starts laughing. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t look,” I plead, pulling one arm tighter over my boobs.
“It’s kind of hard not to look.”
“Can you turn around, please? I locked myself out by accident,” I explain. “I’m waiting for a key.”
“I know,” he says, facing the other way. “I ran into Mirielle in the lobby. She asked me to bring it up.”
“You have it? Oh, thank god. Can you give it to me? Without turning around. My room is at the end of the hall. I’ll be quick. I’m mostly packed.”
“No, no, no,” he insists. “Wait.” In one smooth tug, he untucks his shirt from his dress pants. His elbows flare out as he unbuttons it, and he hands it to me over his shoulder. “Put this on first.”
The functioning universe, the one where I’m supposed to take his shirt and put it on, disappears. I’m now in the alternate universe, the one where I forget I’m nearly naked in a public place and all I can do is stare.
His body.
Wow. Just wow.
Not just fit, he’s astonishingly fit.
No gym creates muscles like that. Tanned and rippled, his strength comes from hauling anchors off of seabeds and piling heavy chain link neatly in a circle. His powerful arms can control a rogue mast in gale force winds. I don’t know if he does any of these things, but he isn’t sculpted by anything done on land. His is a body chiseled by the sea.
“Are you going to take it?” he asks, shaking the shirt.
My attention snaps back. “Uh, yeah, thanks.”
Warm from his body heat, the brushed cotton drapes on my skin like a layer of gossamer. It smells delicious. My trembling fingers fumble with the pearlescent buttons, like I’ve never buttoned a shirt before in my life. When what’s left of my dignity is covered, I tell him I’m done.
He turns around, plunging me back into the alternate universe, the one where my fantasies are not only alive and well, but raging. As my mother would say, sweet mother of Christ. How is it possible for one man to be so genetically blessed? Hard obliques carve into a slim waist. Two copper nipples stand at attention from the sudden shock of AC. The only hair on his ripped body is a trim line of dark blond fuzz disappearing under an Hermès belt buckle.
Handing over the key card, he watches me watch him with a bemused expression. He’s enjoying this far more than I’d like him to be.
An award-winning storyteller whipping up contemporary romance tales.
Every writer sprinkles their own brand of DNA magic into stories and my ingredients are: glamorous destinations, brilliant, sexy minds, and juicy plots with just the right amount of spice stirred in to kick things up a notch.
If you like all of the above, it might be love at first bite!Vancouver, Canada is my current home, although I consider myself a citizen of the world. Sharp-dressed men make my day, calla lilies are my favourite flower, and if you ever come to visit, there’s always champagne on ice.
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