Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
She’s a younger free spirit who's sunshine and light.
Fallon Sterling’s one experience with a rich, older man ended in heartbreak. So when twin nine-year-old girls wind up in her gallery, followed by their oh-so-hot dad, she refuses to notice how sexy he is. And she will not let herself fall for his broody charms. Or his adorable daughters. That was her plan. Unfortunately, planning hasn't always been her strong suit…
Noah Powers needs a reliable nanny, not a romance with a much younger artist who his girls adore. The fact that he desires Fallon and the sunshine she brings into his drab world doesn't matter. His focus needs to be on his work and his daughters. Trouble is, he can never remember that when Fallon is in his arms.
Somewhere between a matchmaking family (his) and dangerous workplace drama (hers), Fallon and Noah realize they might have more in common than they thought. But is it enough for happily ever after?
Just One More Temptation, book 3 in the stand-alone Sterling Family series, is a spicy, fun, hot, age-gap, single-dad, contemporary romance. Order today, and welcome to romantic escapism at its steamiest.
💖 Single Dad
💖 Grumpy Sunshine
💖 Age Gap
💖 He Falls First
💖 Matchmaking Family
💖 Workplace Drama and Suspense
💖 Spicy hot fun
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
Noah Powers frantically searched the New York City park for his twin nine-year-old girls, calling their names, ignoring the looks from the mothers with their younger children playing in the sandbox. He turned to Hazel, the sixty-year-old woman he’d hired when their last nanny had been too young and flighty to keep an eye on his girls. They’d been acting out lately but they’d never run away. Hadn’t he lectured them enough about stranger danger and staying with an adult?
“Dammit!” he yelled, pulling his hand through his hair.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Powers. I was watching them, I swear. They asked if they could go to the pretzel truck on the corner and I had an eye on them. I blinked and they disappeared.”
He ground his teeth together. “Because you didn’t go with them.”
She looked down, not answering since he was right.
“You stay here in case they come back.” He strode toward the cart and questioned the man selling food who said he’d sold them a pretzel and soda but didn’t see the direction they went after.
Panicked, Noah rushed down the sidewalk, scanning inside each shop and walking into the larger ones. Heart in his throat, he looked in each window, not seeing their brown-haired heads.
He swallowed hard and a horrific thought ran through his head. What if someone had taken them? No. They were just being difficult because they hadn’t liked Hazel from the moment he’d hired her. Then again, it was the same story with every nanny no matter their age. They missed their mother and there was nothing he could do to change the fact that Charlie, an archaeologist, had been invited on the dig of her dreams.
They’d shared custody until six months ago. For all their lives, she’d had the girls during the week and he’d taken them one night a weekday and every other weekend. Despite the explanation, they’d hoped their mom would be home by now but the dig was long. Even with Charlie coming home to see them often, it wasn’t the same as their mom being here. Noah was doing the best he could on his own but his kids were disappointed and too damn smart for their own good.
One thing he knew, when he found them, they’d be grounded for life. And he would find them. There was no acceptable alternative.
* * *
Fallon Sterling walked to the front of the paint and sip side of the art gallery where she worked, two glass cups of frothy cappuccino in hand. She passed the rectangular table she’d set up for tonight’s class, including the easels, paints, brushes, and other materials. Her best friend, Brooklyn Snyder, who she called Brooke for short, had stopped by to say hello and helped her arrange the items since Fallon’s usual assistant, Sylvie, was out with a bad cold.
Fallon handed her friend a cappuccino and gestured to two stools by the bar where they usually sold wine and snacks. “Let’s sit.”
They strode across the room and Fallon took the seat facing inside, a habit so she could look around and make sure she hadn’t missed anything that her students would need later.
“Let me run to the ladies’ room,” Brooke said, grabbing her purse. “Be right back.”
Fallon glanced around, her gaze landing on two of her modern, pop art paintings hanging on the walls. The feeling of pride swirling inside her never grew old. Even as a child, she’d loved to work with bright colors. In college, she’d dual majored in art history and fine arts, minoring in business at the Rhode Island School of Design.
Then she’d moved back to New York and worked first at a museum and for the last year and a half, here at the gallery. Her dream was to own a place like this one day but for now, she enjoyed her career and the opportunity to combine the painting she loved with helping the owner with the business.
Brooke returned and settled into the seat beside her. “So? When are you going to get your family in for a session?” She gestured to the easels.
“Do you really think any of my brothers would paint and sip?” Fallon asked, shaking her head, smiling at the thought. She took a taste of the hot froth and savored the cinnamon sprinkled on top, licking her lips to remove any remnants.
Brooke chuckled. “I guess you’re right but the image is amusing.” And she would know.
Of all Fallon’s friends, Brooke knew Fallon’s family best since she’d grown up in the gatehouse on the property Fallon’s father had purchased. Brooke’s mother had been their housekeeper and her father the groundskeeper before he’d passed away. These days, her mom, Lizzie, insisted on keeping her job but she was also seeing Fallon’s father and Fallon suspected things were serious between them.
“Only you got your mother’s talent,” Brooke mused.