Book Blitz: Sinful Rewards by Cynthia Sax

Book & Author Details:

Sinful Rewards by Cynthia Sax
(Sinful Rewards #1)
Published by: Avon Impulse
Publication date: July 15th 2014
Genres: Adult, Romance

Synopsis:

Belinda “Bee” Carter is a good girl; at least, that’s what she tells herself. And a good girl deserves a nice guy—just like the gorgeous and moody billionaire Nicolas Rainer. He is everything she wants in a man.

Or so she thinks, until she takes a look through her telescope and sees a naked, tattooed man on the balcony across the courtyard. Hawke is mysterious, the bad boy she knows will bring only heartbreak. He has been watching her, and that makes him all the more enticing.

But when a mysterious and anonymous text message dares her to do something bad, she must decide if she is really the good girl she has always claimed to be, or if she’s willing to risk everything for her secret fantasy of being watched.

Is her mystery man the reclusive billionaire with a wild side or the darkly dangerous bad boy?

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AUTHOR BIO:
Cynthia Sax's stories have been featured in Star Magazine and on Real Time With Bill Maher. She lives in a world where demons aren't all bad, angels aren't all good, and magic happens every single day. Although her heroes may not always say, "I love you," they will do anything for the women they love. They live passionately. They fight fiercely. They love the same women forever.

Cynthia has loved the same wonderful man forever. Her supportive hubby offers himself up to the joys and pains of research. He receives a daily briefing on what every character is doing. You can also learn what Cynthia Sax's characters are doing by visiting her website at www.CynthiaSax.com or emailing her directly at Cynthia@CynthiaSax.com.

She loves writing fated to mate romances because this is her personal experience with love. She fell in love with my dear wonderful hubby at first sight and 20 years later, they're still very much in love. This is what she wishes for her characters and for her readers.

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Excerpt #1 – R rated – Sinful Rewards 1
Voices murmur outside the condo’s door, the sound piercing my delightful daydream. I swing the telescope upward, not wanting to be caught using it. The snippets of conversation drift away.

I don’t relax. If the telescope isn’t in the same spot as it was positioned last night, Cyndi will realize I’ve been using it. She’ll tease me about being a fellow pervert, sharing the story, embellished for more dramatic effect, with her stern serious dad or, worse, with Angel, that snobby friend of hers.

I’ll die. It’ll be worse than being the butt of jokes in high school because that ridicule had been about my clothes and this will center around the part of my soul I’ve always kept hidden. It’ll also be the truth and I won’t be able to deny it. I am a pervert.

I have to return the telescope to where it was positioned. This is the only acceptable solution. I tap the metal tube.

Last night, my man-crazy roommate had been giggling over the new guy in three eleven north. The previous occupant had been a gray-haired, bowtie-wearing tax auditor, his luxurious accommodations supplied by Nicolas. The most exciting thing he ever did was drink his tea on the balcony. 

According to Cyndi, the new occupant is a delicious piece of man candy, tattooed, buff, and head-to-toe lickable. He’d been completing arm curls outside and she’d enthusiastically counted his reps, oohing and aahing over his bulging biceps, calling to me to take a look.

I’d resisted that temptation, focusing on making macaroni and cheese for the two of us, the recipe snagged from the diner my mom works in. After we scarfed down dinner with Cyndi licking her plate clean, she left for the club and hasn’t returned.

Three eleven north is the mirror condo to ours. I straighten the telescope. That position looks about right but then, the imitation UGGS I bought in second year college looked about right also. The first time I wore the boots in the rain, the sheepskin fell apart, leaving me barefoot in Economics 201.

Unwilling to risk Cyndi’s friendship on about right, I gaze through the eyepiece. The view consists of rippling golden planes, almost like…

Tanned skin pulled over defined abs.

I blink. It can’t be. I take another look. A perfect pearl of perspiration clings to a puckered scar. The drop elongates more and more, stretching, snapping. It trickles downward, navigating the swells and valleys of a man’s honed torso.

No. I straighten. This is wrong. I shouldn’t watch our sexy neighbor as he stands on his balcony. If anyone catches me…

I glance behind me. There’s no one here to catch me. Cyndi won’t know I looked. The hunk in three eleven north won’t know I looked. I’m not harming anyone.

I bend over and take another peek.

The sunlight casts interesting shadows across his stomach, accentuating the ridges of muscle, the dip of his navel. I dart my tongue over my suddenly dry lips. His skin is marred with silver scars, some round, some slashes, this proof of hard living, of survival, arousing me, tightening my nipples and moistening my pussy.

I shouldn’t lust after him. He’s the wrong kind of man, the leaving kind, too virile and feral to stay in one place for long. I can tell this from his stance, from his brazen exhibitionism. He wants me to look at him, to care for him. I tilt the telescope downward. His hips are slim. More scars are etched along the bones. Fine brown hair trails from his navel to…

My mouth drops open. He’s completely naked.

Excerpt #2 – R rated – Sinful Rewards 1
“You’re a good girl intent on doing the right thing,” Nicolas mocks, his tone implying that the opposite is true. “That deserves a reward, doesn’t it?” This question is also slathered with sarcasm.

He’s angry with me and I don’t know why. My discomfort increases.

“I returned a lost phone.” I slide closer to the door, seeking to put more distance between us. “I don’t need a reward.”

“But you want a reward.” Nicolas’ eyes gleam. “A new purse, perhaps?” He waves his long slender fingers at my purse. “I can give you that.” His gaze drops. “Or would you like new shoes?”

I frown down at my feet. What’s wrong with my shoes?

“Perhaps you’d prefer to have use of my limo and driver,” Nicolas continues, his voice cold and businesslike. “I’m wealthy, Miss Carter. What do you want?”

If he offered me a reward with genuine gratitude, I might allow him to buy me a new purse, but he isn’t happy about making this offer.

“Okay, I’ll tell you what I want.” I cross my arms in front of me, fed up with his bullshit. “The next time someone does something nice for you, I want you to say thank you.”

Nicolas blinks, his eyelashes obscenely thick and long. “Is that all?” His voice is edged with irony.

“No, that isn’t all.” My rage boils over, fed by guilt and disappointment and betrayal. I gave him my loyalty. He should deserve it. Damn it. “Introduce yourself when you call that someone. Ask her when it is convenient to meet with you.”

Nicolas’ eyes widen. He’s shocked I’m talking to him this way. Well, he should brace himself. I’m not done with him yet.

“Don’t make her wait on a street corner as though she’s a two-bit hooker. Pick her up at her workplace.” I glare at him, wondering how I ever found him attractive.

Nicolas smiles and the mystery is solved. The man is drop dead gorgeous. “I was kind of a jerk, wasn’t I?” he admits sheepishly.

“No, you weren’t kind of a jerk.” I won’t let him off that easily. “You were a complete asshole.”

Nicolas stares at me. I meet his gaze squarely, not hiding any of my irritation. His lips twitch. Is he laughing at me? I narrow my eyes even more and his shoulders shake. My fists clench, the temptation to jab him in the eyeballs compounding by the second.


Nicolas throws his head back and barks with laughter, breaking our silent standoff. “He’s right.” His eyes sparkle with mirth. “You’re priceless.”

I don’t know who he is and I don’t ask. I doubt I’ll like the answer.

Now that Nicolas is no longer in such a pissy mood, his good looks improve even more, the skin around his eyes crinkling, his lips curling upward. “Let’s try this again.” He leans forward and I breathe deeply, filling my nostrils with his expensive cologne. “Hello. I’m Nicolas Rainer.” He holds out his hand.

I glide my palm against his and his fingers wrap around mine. His grip is solid and sure, an embrace a woman can rely on. This, at least, is as I expected.

“Thank you for retrieving my phone,” he murmurs. “I appreciate it.”

“I would have done that for anyone, Mr. Rainer.” I eye him warily, not trusting his sudden amiability. “Clearly,” I mutter under my breath.

His eyes glow. He heard me. “Call me Nicolas, please.” He releases my hand. “I’m…” He shifts in his seat, appearing uncomfortable. “I’m not accustomed to people doing nice things for me without wanting something in return.”

This heartbreaking confession deflates all of my anger and bolsters my battered opinion of him. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Red streaks across his cheeks. “It doesn’t excuse my actions.” Nicolas meets my gaze, holding it. “I’m sorry.” Sincerity reflects in his eyes. “If I ever act like that again, tell me.”

Excerpt #3 – G rated – Sinful Rewards 1

Our third floor condo overlooks a tiny park wedged between three high-rise buildings. Neither the wrought iron fence nor the thick green hedge surrounding the green space impedes my view.

It’s a view any Chicago socialite would trade her string of Tiffany pearls to enjoy. Nicolas Rainer, the condominium complex’s enigmatic owner, sits on the wooden bench positioned closest to our condo, his traditional black wingtips planted solidly on the ground, his finely groomed head bent over one of his tablets.

Papers and electronic devices radiate from the left and right of his long lean body. These are carefully arranged in the same pattern every morning, smallest to largest devices, lowest to highest stacks of paper. Today is Wednesday, which means one of the stacks consists of invoices, printed on thin yellow paper. Tomorrow is Thursday. There’s an additional stack of papers on Thursdays, widening the orbit around him.

The billionaire bachelor’s routine is the same every week, rigid, unbending, reassuringly consistent. It was Nicolas’ predictability that first snagged my attention, piquing my interest. In a world battered by broken promises and casual encounters, he’s a man a woman can depend on, can trust not to change.

Then I watched an old interview Cyndi found online and I was lost. While my roommate mocked Nicolas’ curt, blunt responses, mimicking his voice and mannerisms, I saw the loneliness reflecting in his eyes, the hole in his soul. Having seen the same expression in my mirror, too many times, I knew we were meant for each other.

He’s mine. He simply doesn’t know this yet. I gaze at him with a warmth in my heart. The sun’s rays shine on Nicolas’ wavy black hair. Streams of gold dance over his fashion model good looks, his high cheekbones, his deep even tan. His navy blue suit is formfitting, his white shirt immaculate, the design on his tie subtle. Light reflects off his metallic cufflinks, adding a touch of shine, a hint of sparkle.

Nicolas frowns at the tablet, lines of concentration etched between his dark eyebrows. He’s likely working on another one of his projects. His net worth is mind-boggling, his financial success a source of legend. When he finally realizes I’m perfect for him and we marry, I won’t have to choose between helping my cash-strapped mom or indulging my love of fashion. I can do both, guilt-free.

And Nicolas will marry, maybe not tomorrow, but some day. His company develops properties, maintaining ownership of these prime locations forever. He’s lived in the condominium complex since it opened, worked with the same management team since he founded his company.

His personal relationships won’t be any less stable. I’m not in a rush to wed—I have my own career to establish—but I won’t waste my time on someone who is afraid of commitment. I won’t make my mom’s mistakes. It is forever or nothing for me.

I suspect Nicolas thinks the same way. There’s only one obstacle standing in our way—he doesn’t know I exist.

Excerpt #4 – G rated – Sinful Rewards 1

I allow my gaze to travel up the stranger’s body, over his thighs, groin, stomach, chest. A thick scar slashes through his right nipple and four letters are tattooed over his left pec – USMC – United States Marine Corps. He’s a military man, trained to protect, to kill. This should dampen my unseemly fascination with him.

I want him even more.

A larger tattoo stretches over his collarbone, the design depicting a sun framed by a pair of wings, the ink black and gray and achingly beautiful. The feathers are finely detailed, the softness appearing out of place on such a hard body.

The stranger’s spine is straight, his shoulders squared and his arms raised. A third tattoo encircles one huge bicep, the barbed wire in black ink serving as a warning. Danger. Do not enter. A wise woman would heed this sign.

I should heed this sign. I should look away. I can’t, my gaze drawn to him. The man’s chin is square, brown stubble shadowing his golden skin. His nose is flattened, his nostrils are flared, his—

I step backward, my heart pounding. No, my luck can’t be that bad. I look into the telescope once more. It is that bad. Military-style binoculars cover the man’s eyes. These lenses are pointed directly at me.

He’s watching me. I move away from the window, retreating into the shadows. He saw me looking at him. He knows. Heat rushes over me, making the world spin. This stranger knows I’m a pervert. He knows I’m not the good girl I’ve allowed others to believe. If he tells Cyndi, Mr. Wynters, anyone…

I hold my breath, count to five, and release it, repeating the action until the fog surrounding me dissipates and my rational thought returns. He won’t tell anyone and if he does, who will believe him? He’s standing on his balcony naked. This fact alone disqualifies him as a credible source.

Not that gossip ever originates from credible sources. I twist my lips, disgusted with myself for making this error. This is why I shouldn’t take risks. I take one look through the telescope and I get caught. My mom has one wild night with a bad boy and she conceives me.