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Falling For You: A BWWM Billionaire Interracial Romance Book (African American  Contemporary Short Stories)
Falling For You: A BWWM Billionaire Interracial Romance Book (African American  Contemporary Short Stories)
Falling For You: A BWWM Billionaire Interracial Romance Book (African American  Contemporary Short Stories)
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Falling For You: A BWWM Billionaire Interracial Romance Book (African American Contemporary Short Stories)

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SAMANTHA

I’ve tried so hard to stay away. My boss is infuriating, unreadable and…drop dead gorgeous. All I want is to start my own business here in Venice and restart my life after my horrible past in the States. So when Alexander gives me a chance to do that and… make him mine for the weekend, how could I not say yes? 

ALEXANDER

I’ve been silently and hopelessly in love with my assistant for months. And even after that sizzling kiss we shared, she still won’t have me. Something about me being arrogante… But now I have the perfect plan to give us what we both want. Yeah, I’ll have Samantha. Mind, body and soul.  

Fall in love in Italy in Veronica Maxim's new romance series! This is a standalone book with characters from the entire Take Me To Europe Series. No cliffhangers.

This romance contains mature language and themes intended for 18+ audiences.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateAug 19, 2015
ISBN9781516399437
Falling For You: A BWWM Billionaire Interracial Romance Book (African American  Contemporary Short Stories)

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    Book preview

    Falling For You - Veronica Maxim

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    ***

    SAMANTHA

    Café Florian serves one of my favorite espresso drinks in the world, but that’s not the main reason I come here and it’s not why I came here tonight. Tonight I needed a beer and maybe a scoop of the lemon gelato. I know that doesn’t sound like it goes together, but trust me. It’s better than a valium when it comes to easing a frustrated soul.

    Besides, when my friend Terese called today to see if I wanted to get together for a drink I was at work. Café Florian is located in the heart of Venice, in San Marco Plaza. It was convenient to my work and to Terese’s flat. I sat there now sipping my beer, savoring my gelato and letting the carefree, no rush atmosphere soothe my soul.

    So what’s got you so worked up? Terese asked me, her curly black hair looking more harried than usual. Teresa had that simple Italian beauty. She was stylish and understated in a chic way.

    It’s Alexander. He’s driving me crazy! Alexander Barone is my boss. He’s rich, gorgeous, sophisticated and way too fucking intense. At work I call him Mr. Barone. Behind his back I call him Alexander...or Alex when I’m feeling really defiant.

    What did he do now? Terese was aware of my issues with Alex. It was one of the things she had to listen to me bitch about on a routine basis.

    Nothing specific, I said. It’s just that he’s so freaking intense and serious about everything that it makes me feel so anxious and pressured all the time. The smallest things get me all worked up inside because I worry about how Alex is going to react to it. And then the worst part is that he never reacts. I mean, he’s got two looks. One is smoldering intensity and the other is smoldering lust. I took a long swig from my beer. It felt good sliding down my throat as it washed down the creamy gelato.

    Maybe you should just fuck him, Terese said with a grin and a shrug. I nearly choked on my gelato as I quickly peered around to see if anyone had heard. The patrons in the dark cafe seemed to be completely engrossed in their own world.

    Have you lost your mind Teresa? Just fuck him? I mimicked her shrug and we both giggled.

    That’s what he wants, right? Maybe if you just give it up already, he’ll relax and the tension will be gone. You two can work out all those unspoken issues in the bedroom, no?

    I laughed. It’s not going to happen. I don’t care if he’s always gotten what he wants since he was two years old. He’s not getting me. 

    I got the job as Alex’s personal assistant three months ago. I remember how nervous I was the day I walked into the interview and saw him. I’m not sure what I expected, but the Adonis in the black silk shirt and smoke gray trousers was not it. His jacket lay draped over the arm of the chair next to him. His gray silk tie lay on top of it. He’d stripped out of most of his business attire and he still looked like a million bucks. The black shirt looked like it would melt if you touched it and he had the top two buttons undone...just enough to tease at a tiny little patch of black hair on his chest. And speaking of his chest...The silk of that soft-looking shirt stretched across muscles that were so well-defined and taut that I could see the perfect shape of them each time he moved...even slightly. He had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his forearms looked nicer than most men’s biceps.

    As if that perfect body wasn’t enough, he had the kind of face that would stop you in your tracks. I could tell right away that he was used to it...the sudden pause in a person’s speech or natural expression when they looked his way. His dark blue eyes were so incredibly intense. They were the color of the ocean...but during a storm. His hair was the color of rich chocolate and looked tussled like he’d just crawled out of bed after having a wild, passionate night and gone to work. High Italian cheekbones and an angular jaw and olive complexion covered with just a brush of dark stubble completed the picture. What woman wouldn’t want him?

    When I walked in that day his eyes had lingered on my body just a little too long. Then he’d brought them up to my lips and left them there long enough to send a rush of heat through me. Once his eyes met mine his demeanor was cool and composed where as I felt like my body was filled with molten hot lava and I could barely focus. Italian men...

    I pulled myself together however when he began to interview me. No one could ever say that appreciative glance he gave me or any of the long, hot looks he has given me every day since had gotten me this job. His interview questions were appropriate and tough and I left there that day knowing that I’d aced the interview. Whether it was enough to impress him? Who knew.  This job was a stepping stone in the plan I’ve laid out for my life. It doesn’t matter how sexy he is, or how much he might want me. I don’t have time to get involved with men, not even rich, gorgeous blue-eyed, Italian men. Besides, Alex is much too intense for me. I’d never date him.

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