Interracial Contemporary Romance
Heat Level 3 Flames
Release Day August 12, 2022
Her biggest dream’s offered on a platter, but the clincher is, she has to marry a perfect stranger.
When her employer offers the no-nonsense Shannon Nadjiwon the position of chauffeuring Séamus Daugherty, she jumps at the chance. To work for one of Toronto’s most powerful families means she can make her biggest dream of owning a fleet of limos come true, something her female relations tooling away at her Ojibway community want badly for her, and she won’t let them down.
His reckless need for speed cost Séamus Daugherty his license. If he doesn’t marry, as demanded by his overbearing father, he will not only lose his lucrative job with the family business —the only positive aspect in Séamus’ gilded cage life—but everything Daugherty.
The unpretentious and gorgeous Shannon will make the perfect bride, and Séamus is ready to strike a deal with her. One that will ensure he keeps everything he holds dear if she puts a wedding ring on her finger. However, they face three big obstacles: His family, her family, and a marriage neither truly wants, leaving both wondering if the sizzling sexual chemistry and cozy rapport they share is enough to grasp a happily ever after.
A Look Inside
Instead of making the walk to the side door that led to the garage, Séamus used the main entry and stepped outside to sunshine and a blue sky that wasn’t the least bit compatible with the thunderstorm sitting over his head. Not a hint of a breeze was present.
Parked in the circular, cobblestone driveway was the Audi, a car only used for out-of-town business acquaintances for its rear seat comfort package.
The stunning woman standing by the passenger door swept away the gray cloud looming over Séamus’ head. Well, well, well, this was very unlike Father. Shouldn’t a stern codger of old-school manners be present instead?
His new driver’s sleek body possessed the same smooth lines of the metallic-blue town car. Dressed in black from head to toe with a chauffeur’s hat and matching leather gloves, she exuded a perfect posture stiffer than the surfboard Séamus caught waves on in Maui.
He slyly snuck a long look at the swell of her breasts pressing on the fabric of the jacket. Full lips painted the shade of poppy never moved into a smile but remained straight and plush. Red undertones lit her bronzed skin, and hair the color of the midnight-blue sky was plaited in a thick braid.
It was too bad sunglasses tinted with the shade of a moonless night hid her eyes.
She opened the back door and used her gloved hand to motion. “Good morning, Mr. Daugherty. I’m your driver,” she said in a tone smoother than a glass of single malt whisky.
“Yes, I more than assumed so.” Clutching his briefcase, and one hand in his pants pocket, Séamus swaggered to the car.
“Yes, your driver.” Her luscious voice, capable of melting all over his skin, was as formal as her attire.
“Do you have a name?” He extended his hand. “Séamus Daugherty.”
Her black eyebrows, shaped in a perfect arc, rose slightly above her black specs. She was probably surprised he’d asked her name. Most likely when she chauffeured clients, they didn’t inquire about her personal life. Since they were going to spend six months together, for sure they would get to know each other.
“Shannon Nadjiwon at your service, Mr. Daugherty.” She again extended her gloved hand to the car.
He grasped her long fingers hidden beneath the leather material and clutched them in a firm but gentle grip. “Nadjiwon. That’s a pretty surname.”
“It’s Ojibway, sir.” She tilted her oval-shaped face slightly, as if bowing to him.
“Sir?” He almost clucked his tongue, although the appendage in his mouth desired to be somewhere else. Such as, what did her tongue feel like? Oh, it was a wicked thought since he’d only just met her, but damn, she was a fine specimen of the female persuasion.
“Let’s cut with the formality. You can call me Séamus, and I will refer to you as Shannon. How’s that?”
“Whatever you wish.” She gestured at his briefcase. “May I?”
“I don’t allow the house servants to wait on me like a king, and I don’t expect my driver to cater to my every need. I’ll put my briefcase in the car. Okay?” He reached inside the black leather interior. Already, the business console was down, so he set the briefcase on top.
“There.” He sank into the comfortable seat. “I’m all set.”
She shut the door.
Her confident stride while rounding the Audi was the same posture she’d presented from earlier—shoulders back, chin lifted, arms moving stiffly at her sides like a true marching soldier. Not a wiggle came from her slim hips or va-va-voom slender thighs.
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About The Author
An Ojibway from Northwestern Ontario, Maggie resides in the country with her husband and their fur babies, two beautiful Alaskan Malamutes. When she’s not writing, she can be found pulling weeds in the flower beds, mowing the huge lawn, walking the Mals deep in the bush, teeing up a ball at the golf course, fishing in the boat for walleye, or sitting on the deck at her sister’s house, making more wonderful memories with the people she loves most.
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