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Genres: Fiction, Romance, Erotica, Contemporary
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Also by this author: Eight Ways to Ecstasy,
SEVEN NIGHTS TO SURRENDER
Kate arrives in Paris hoping to find inspiration. Instead she finds Rylan. In a swirl of stolen kisses and hot, tangled sheets, Kate is quickly swept away by the sexy stranger, longing to surrender to his expert touch. With Rylan, nothing is forbidden-except the truth.
An American ex-pat worth millions, Rylan never flaunts his fortune. Rather, he guards his identity from everyone, especially women. No strings, no commitments, no complications. But the second his lips taste Kate's soft, sweet skin, everything changes. For the first time, Rylan has found someone to share his every want and need. Yet he knows that secrets stand between them. To keep her, he'll need to confess the truth before it's too late . . . even if doing so could mean losing Kate forever.
I have to start this review with a big, huge I loved this book. Seven Nights to Surrender is romance at it’s best. Flirting, wooing, and chemistry between two characters that are both running. I didn’t know what to expect with this book, the synopsis was intriguing, but definitely didn’t prepare me. Kudos to Jeanette Grey for bringing this book whore back the simple joy of romance.
Kate is floundering. She’s got a choice to make, her entire future is at stake, follow a life-long dream and risk it all or take the safe route and put her dream to bed. As cliché as it sounds, she went to Paris for a week to find herself. Rylan is running from the shambles of his life. Bumming around Paris, finding tourists to fill in the empty hours of the day — quite literally, adrift.
Both characters are well-developed. Grey did a phenomenal job of working the events of their pasts into inner monologues with brief revelations to each other, but never weighing down the story. She found the perfect balance of connecting the reader with what molded the characters and who they were in the present.
I was all set up to hate Rylan. My first thought was pompous playboy. And really he was, but when Kate caught him off guard and he showed that spark of interest beyond getting her naked, I was hooked. That man wooed and wooed. It’s been a long time since I’ve read an alpha male who was completely about the heroines comfort. He never pushed her for more. He gave and gave without expectations. Hope, but never pressure. I swooned a dozen times.
Even with Kate’s lack of self-confidence, she was still a strong heroine. For every time Rylan pushed her, she pushed him back. He challenged her to step outside her comfort zone and was there to catch her if she fell.
The chemistry between the two was powerful. Not just sexually, but the way he connected to her light and how she connected to his confidence. They played off each other nicely. Both gaining something from the other that they desperately needed.
Seven Nights to Surrender is a fantastic journey into self-discovery and the healing power of love. An absolute must read for any romance lover. Five Stars for a beautiful storyline and Five Wet Panties for deliciously decadent smut.
Kate stayed firmly planted in her seat as he offered to help her up. Trying her best to appear unaffected, she arched one eyebrow. “Does this usually work for you?”
The guy didn’t pull his hand back or in any other way appear to alter his strategy, and Kate had to give him points for that. “Yes, actually.”
The sad truth was, his offer was beyond tempting. The attention was nice, especially after her self-esteem had been beaten down the way it had in the past year. Hell, in the past twenty-two. It wouldn’t hurt to have someone who spoke fluent French showing her around, either. That he was as attractive as he was just made the deal sweeter.
“Not working so well on you, then?” he asked as she considered him.
“Not so far.”
His smile only widened. “Good. I like a girl who’s hard to crack.” Standing up straighter, he held his palms out at his sides. “Come on, what have you got to lose?”
“I’d say my wallet, but that’s already gone.”
“See? Low stakes. Listen, you don’t trust me.” That was an understatement. Was there a man left on Earth that she did? “I don’t blame you. Devilishly handsome man wanders into a café and buys you a drink without asking? Offers to show you around town? Very suspicious.”
“So let’s make this safe. You said you wanted to see the Louvre? Let’s go to the Louvre. I’ll show you all my favorites, and then if I haven’t murdered you by supper time, you let me take you someplace special. Someplace no guide book in the world would ever recommend.”
She was really running out of reasons to say no. It was a good plan, this one. They’d be in a public place. She’d have time to feel him out a little more. And if he wasn’t too much of a psycho, well, everyone had to eat, didn’t they?
Still, she kept up her air of skepticism. She rather liked all his efforts to convince her. “I don’t even know your name.”
The way his dimples shone when he lifted up one corner of his mouth was completely unfair. Extending his hand again, he offered, “Rylan. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Rylan. That was unusual. She liked it.
“Kate,” she volunteered in return, and with no more real excuse not to, she accepted the handshake, slipping her palm into his. Warm fingers curled around hers, his thumb stroking the side of her hand, and oh. The rake. He bent forward as he tugged on her hand, twisting ever so slightly so he could press his lips to the back of her palm.
“I’ll bet you are.” But her pulse was racing faster, and the kiss felt like it seared all the way to her spine.
This man was dangerous.
He straightened up but he didn’t let go. Sweeping his other arm toward the door, he asked, “So?”
She hummed to herself as she gazed up at him, as if there was any question of what she was going to do. His blue eyes sparkled, like he already knew her answer, too.
“Well.” She rose from her seat, feeling taller than usual. More powerful. Maybe it was all the flattery of a guy like this hitting on her. Maybe it was the headiness of making this kind of a decision. Either way, it made her straighten her shoulders and insert a little sway into the movement of her hips.
“Lead on,” she said.
He didn’t let go of her hand. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” With a squeeze of her fingers, he took a step toward the door. “Let’s go look at some art.”
External pressures aside, she had come to Paris to be inspired by beauty. She could find it on the walls of a famous museum. And she could find it in the lines of this man’s shoulders and throat. The latter might not have been what she’d had in mind when she’d set out, but what was a little bit of a diversion?
You couldn’t find yourself without taking a couple of side trips, after all.