Hot Zone Bundle (Paperback)

HOT STUFF
He’s about to find out … she’s not just one of the guys.

Annabelle Jordan and her two sisters were orphans in frilly dresses when they went to live with their sports-lawyer uncle in his world of locker rooms, bookies and gambling. Now the girls are publicists in their uncle’s firm, The Hot Zone.

Despite her upbringing, Annabelle is all woman. She’s naturally drawn to real men—like her latest client, businessman and former football legend Brandon Vaughn.

The chemistry is potent, undeniable, irresistible. Annabelle soon realizes that Brandon is much more than just another jock. And that she’d better hold on tight if she doesn’t want to lose her heart.

HOT NUMBER
Micki Jordan is a tomboy as much at home on the playing field as in a locker room full of naked guys.

But the star publicist is looking to prove she’s also an irresistible woman in order to get a second shot at professional baseball player and major league playboy, Damian Fuller.

Micki transforms herself into one hot number Damian can’t help but notice and together they burn up the sheets and find themselves falling hard. Until Damian’s past returns, threatening their future.

HOT ITEM
He’ll push all her boundaries and make her realize rules are made to be broken.

Cool, collected Sophie Jordan loves her daily routine running her family’s top sports management agency, as long as she gets to stay behind the scenes. But with big sister on maternity leave and little sis on her honeymoon, she’s forced to step up to the plate. And a recent media crisis surrounding the disappearance of superagent Spenser Atkins is not going to make the job any easier.

Enter star quarterback and notorious bad boy Riley Nash who, for reasons of his own, needs to track down Atkins. Up until now, Sophie has kept a strict no-dating-clients policy, but each day with Riley makes her rule near impossible to follow. With her job and her heart on the line, Sophie will need to make the toughest choice of her life!

HOT PROPERTY
He's plummeted from hero to zero. Can she help him soar back to the top?

Just one short season ago, major league center fielder John Roper had it all: the looks—and personal life—of a sports hero and the public’s adoration. But this hot property’s lucky streak has run out. After a World Series disaster, fans diss him, shock jocks mock him and his dysfunctional family hassles him for money he really can’t spare.

Now it’s up to him, and Hot Zone publicist Amy Stone, to get his life back on track.

Amy finds it’s easier said than done. What with the constant intrusions of his nutty family, a crazed fan playing stalker, and Roper’s refusal to put his own needs first, she’s starting to think that life in the fast lane isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. But when the two retreat to a secluded lodge, the sexy center fielder throws Amy a curveball—one she never saw coming.…

Vaughn’s home turned out to be a huge, modern monstrosity built in the midst of traditional suburbia, Annabelle thought. If he was seeking to make a statement, something to say I’ve arrived, he’d done it in a grand way.

She didn’t have a problem with the house itself, but the lack of shrubs, trees, plants and flowers gave the white stucco an austere, unwelcoming look. The best thing Annabelle could say about the place was that she’d be guaranteed breathing room and space away from the hot-blooded athlete to whom she was so attracted.

Though how she could be hot for a guy who didn’t want to want her was beyond her. Damn her hormones anyway. She’d chosen to confront the sexual currents head-on by acknowledging them and, with any luck, neutralizing their power. Hah. If anything, she thought as she watched him unload her suitcases from the back of the truck, muscles flexing beneath his shirt, he intrigued her even more.

As she followed him up the stone steps, she focused on the reason for this trip. Damage control for the lodge, which Vaughn intended to use as a summer place for underprivileged kids. She shook her head, still unable to reconcile that altruistic part of the man with the gruff guy who disliked animals. She wondered if the charity bit was for show and she pursed her lips in thought.

Somehow, she had to get a handle on the man and assess this situation and its players. Otherwise she had no way of handling his crisis. So far Vaughn wasn’t cooperating. Since she had yet to meet his friends or family, or get a sense of who he was and what image he wanted to convey for the lodge, she had only this house to go by.

The large and lonely dwelling didn’t bode well for her vision of a PR damage control plan. Neither did his notion of keeping her in the background for too long. She could lay low for a while, but to fix this situation, she very much intended to make her mark.

“I love your house,” she said with forced enthusiasm.

“Really? I hate it.” He paused at the door and dug into his pocket for the keys.

Now there was a comment worth exploring. “Then why live here?”

“Because I wanted to move back to my hometown and this was the only place that fit my needs.” He flung open the front door and lugged her belongings inside. Her laptop hung from one shoulder, a large suitcase trailed behind him from one hand and he hefted her toiletry bag in the other.

He’d left the animals up to her and she held Boris and Natasha in each hand as she stepped inside. “And what needs were those?” she asked, picking up their conversation.

“Peace, quiet and space.”

She nodded as if she understood. She didn’t, of course. She’d lived life afraid of being separated from her loved ones. Even now, as an adult, she lived across the hall from Sophie and Micki, needing to hear their voices and feel them close by. She even filled her apartment with things, breathing and otherwise, so she’d never really feel alone.

“So, which wing is mine?” she asked, only half joking.

“The house is huge, but I only reopened one part,” he explained. “I didn’t need the rest and didn’t see the need to have it cleaned out or fixed up.”

Odd for a man who’d just claimed he needed space, Annabelle thought.

He walked her through the hallway, which had been painted white, and pointed directly in front of her. “That’s the kitchen,” he said, showing her a state-of-the-art room with stainless steel appliances, white cabinets and white walls.

Then he started down a long hallway and halted halfway. “This room has a double bed for friends who come by. My room’s that one there.” He gestured to a closed door and a room with which hers shared an adjoining wall. “You have your own bathroom, so you should be fine,” he added.

She choked back a laugh. A bed in a sterile white room, and a bathroom with shower. “All the comforts of home.” Or a prison cell.

“I thought so.”

“What’s up the center stairs?” she asked of the grandiose circular staircase she’d seen when she’d walked in.

He shrugged. “More rooms I don’t need.”

Upstairs probably held a huge master bedroom and a variety of other larger rooms, while he chose to stay downstairs, in an area originally designated for staff. Strange and stranger, she thought. Looking at the bright side, this area was small and cozy, or would be if it had been decorated at all.

“Down the stairs behind the kitchen, there’s a gym in the basement, and a hot tub and sauna. Make yourself at home."

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