MANWHORE
+ 1 by Katy Evans
EXCERPT
FOUR WEEKS
I’ve never been so
hopeful as when I board the pristine glass elevator at the M4
corporate building. A handful of employees ride along with me,
murmuring perfunctory greetings to each other and to me. I think my
mouth must be on vacation because I can’t seem to force it to
speak. But I smile in reply—my smile nervous, nervous but hopeful,
definitely hopeful. My riding companions step out on their floors one
by one until I’m alone, riding up to the executive floor on my own.
Toward him.
Toward the man
I love.
My body is
raging. My blood is pumping—my blood is storming—my thighs are
shaking. My stomach feels filled with little earthquakes that just
won’t quit, then they turn into a full-fledged roil when I hear the
elevator ting at his floor.
Stepping out,
I’m in corporate nirvana, surrounded by sleek chrome and pristine
glass, marble and limestone floors. But I hardly have eyes for
anything except the tall and imposing frosted glass doors at the far
end of the room.
Framing those
doors to each side is a pair of sleek designer desks, for a total of
four.
Behind these
desks are four women in identical black-and-white suits, sitting
behind their gleaming dark-oak desks, working quietly behind their
flat-screen computers.
One of them,
the forty-year-old Catherine H. Ulysses—right hand of the man who
owns every inch of this building—stops what she’s doing when she
sees me. She arches her brow, then seems both tense and relieved as
she lifts the receiver on her desk and murmurs my name into it.
I. Am. Not.
Breathing.
But Catherine
doesn’t miss a beat as she motions me toward the huge frosted
doors—those intimidating doors—that lead into the lair of the
most powerful man in Chicago.
The human being
with the most powerful effect on me.
This is what
I’ve been waiting for, for four weeks. This is what I wanted when I
left a thousand messages on his phones and what I wanted when I wrote
a thousand others that I left unsent. To see him.
For him to want
to see me.
But as I force
myself to step forward, I don’t even know if I’ll have the
strength to stand before him and look him in the eye after what I
did.
I’m wracked
so hard with nervousness and anticipation and hope—yes hope, small
but bright, even as I shake like a leaf.
Catherine holds
the door open, and I struggle to hold my head high and walk into his
office.
Two steps
inside I hear the swoosh of the glass door shutting behind me and my
systems halt at the familiar sight of the most beautiful office I’ve
ever been in.
His office is
all vast marble and chrome, twelve-foot ceilings, and endless
floor-to-ceiling windows.
And there he
is. The center of its axis. The center of my world.
He’s pacing
by the window, speaking into a headset in a low, low voice—the kind
he uses when he’s pissed. All I can make out are the words have to
be dead to let her fall into his clutches …
He hangs up,
and as if he feels me in the room, he turns his head. His eyes flare
when he sees me. His green eyes.
His achingly
familiar, beautiful green eyes.
He inhales,
very slowly, his chest expanding, his hands curling a little at his
sides as he looks at me.
I look back at
him.
Malcolm Kyle
Preston Logan Saint.
I just walked
into the eye of the most powerful storm of my life. No. Not a storm.
A hurricane.
Four weeks, I
haven’t seen him. And he still looks exactly as I remember. Larger
than life, and more irresistible than ever.
His striking
face is perfectly shaven today, and his sensual lips look so achingly
full I can almost feel them against mine. Six-feet-plus of perfectly
controlled male power stand before me, in a perfect black suit and a
killer tie. He’s the very devil in Armani; strong-boned,
square-jawed, gleaming dark hair and those penetrating eyes.
He’s got the
best eyes.
They twinkle
mercilessly when he teases me, and when he doesn’t tease me,
they’re mysterious and unreadable, assessing and intelligent,
keeping me guessing about his thoughts.
But I had
forgotten how cold those eyes used to be. Green arctic ice looks back
at me now. Every fleck of ice in those eyes gleaming like diamond
shards.
He clenches his
jaw and tosses the headset aside.
He looks as
approachable as a wall, his shoulders stretching his white shirt,
which clings to his skin like a groupie. But I know he’s not a
wall; I’ve never wanted to throw myself at a wall like this.
He’s walking
towards me. Every step he takes makes my heart pound as he moves with
that quiet and confident own-the-world stride of his.
He stops a few
feet away and shoves his hands into his pants pockets; and he seems
so big all of a sudden, and he smells so utterly good. I drop my eyes
to his tie as the little candle of hope I walked in with starts to
flicker with doubt.
For
every sin there is a sinner!
Manwhore
+ 1 is now available for pre-order
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Blurb
The unexpected love
story that began in MANWHORE continues heating up the pages in
MANWHORE +1 by New York Times bestselling author Katy Evans...
Billionaire playboy?
Check.
Ruthless businessman?
Check.
Absolutely sinful? Check.
Malcolm Saint was an
assignment. A story. A beautiful, difficult man I was supposed to
uncover for a racy exposé.
I intended to reveal him,
his secrets, his lifestyle--not let him reveal me. But my head was
overtaken by my heart and suddenly nothing could stop me from
falling. I fell for him, and I fell hard.
Malcolm Saint is absolute
Sin, and I've become a hopeless Sinner.
Now that the assignment is
over, Saint wants something from me--something unexpected--and I want
this wicked playboy's heart. But how can I prove to the man who
trusts no one that I'm worthy of becoming his plus one?
Manwhore
(Book One)
Now Available
Amazon US:
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About
the Author:
Hey! I’m Katy Evans and
I love family, books, life, and love. I’m married with two children
and three dogs and spend my time baking, walking, writing, reading,
and taking care of my family. Thank you for spending your time with
me and picking up my story. I hope you had an amazing time with it,
like I did. If you’d like to know more about books in progress,
look me up on the Internet, I’d love to hear from you!
Website:
www.katyevans.net
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKatyEvans
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/authorkatyevans
Email:
authorkatyevans@gmail.com
