Monday, January 14, 2019

Unwrapping a Cover Reveal for WHEN IT DOESN'T STAY IN VEGAS by Amy Valentini with #excerpt


Amy Valentini

A Brand New Standalone Contemporary Romantic Comedy
Coming Valentine’s Day,
February 14, 2019

Things that happen in Vegas need to stay in Vegas…
After in indulging in too much champagne and a one-night stand in Vegas with a very sexy man, Abby Matheson prays what happened there stays there. Only she can’t get the incredibly passionate night with the amazing man out of her head.

Mitch Braxton can’t forget the incredible woman he spent a passionate night with only to find her gone in the morning having left no note behind—only her crystal heart pendant. Unable to even recall her name, he fears he will never see her again.

When it doesn’t stay in Vegas…
When Abby discovers her mystery man is the CEO of a company her boss is determined to take over, she must forget the man as well as that night. Her hope is no one finds out about Vegas because the merger and her job are now on the line. Discovering Mitch at his sister’s wedding is the last thing she expects and even as she tries to keep her distance, she wants him even more. Is it once more just lust or is there wedding magic in the air? And will she lose her heart as well as her career?



Chapter One

Things that happen in Vegas need to stay in Vegas.
“Lord help me, I hope that’s true,” Abigail Matheson whispered under her breath.
The silent yet repeating Las Vegas mantra scrolled through her brain as she slowly eased the door closed on the hotel room—correction—amazing penthouse suite. Stopping just before it closed completely, she took one final glance at the gorgeous sexy man still sleeping in the bed where she spent one of the most incredible nights ever in her twenty-eight years of living…then sighed. Whether from regret knowing she’d never see him again or for allowing her lustful desires to cause her to succumb to too much champagne, she wasn’t sure. Yes, it was a foolish one-night stand coming on the recent heels of discovering her fiancĂ©—well, fiancĂ© that was—was about to become a father with the woman he’d cheated on her with after having proposed to her. It was possible she now had regrets but what if…what if there was a chance for more.
The ding of the elevator down the hall made her flinch and her hand slipped off the door handle. As the door clicked shut, she gasped then let it turn into a low groan. Damn, now she wondered if maybe she should’ve left him a note. She groaned aloud this time, louder than she meant. No, it was definitely better this way, she thought staring at the closed door. They were mere minions in the bigger scheme of things and surely, she would never see him again. Hell, he didn’t even know her last name since she was reasonably sure she hadn’t told him. He was just Mitch, just as she was merely Abby. Now she wished she’d asked him his name, or told him hers. What if he decided to try to find her…no, it was better this way. She’d probably be home in Chicago before he even woke. Besides, the last thing she needed in her life now, or anytime in the near future, was a man. She’d had more than her share of the lies, betrayal, and it being all about them without regard to her feelings or needs which came with being involved.
Moaning low, Abby leaned her dull aching head against the cool surface of the wall alongside the door wishing she could think clearer. Their night together had been incredible. Yes, too much champagne had fueled it in the beginning but from the moment their lips first touched, an explosion of intense arousal began burning which even hours of amazing sex hadn’t been able to douse. Of course, now she was paying the price with both regret, and a head-splitting hangover.
It had been incredible though, breathtakingly incredible. Lifting her head, she stared at the closed door. She wanted to knock, wake him and when he answered the door, leap into his muscular arms and beg him to ravish her body one more time before she had to go back to her now, in comparison, mundane life. Just then, the alarm on her cell phone went off.
Abby scurried down the hall toward the group of elevators while searching in her bag for the damn device. Retrieving it, she silenced the obnoxious old timey car horn sound filling the otherwise quiet hallway. Noticing the time on her phone, she had just enough time to get to her room, clean up, gather her things, and get to the airport. She punched the elevator button.
“So much for waking sleeping beauty for another round of hot naughty sex,” she grumbled while wondering whether she’d survive, or more likely not survive, the flight home with her head throbbing and her stomach roiling.
Wasn’t this always the way for her? It was just like when her best friend asked her to be a bridesmaid in her upcoming wedding. All she could think was what her grandmother had always said about her maiden aunt who died far too young and unmarried—always a bridesmaid, never a bride. That was Abby. Having already been in fifteen weddings as a bridesmaid since high school now, in less than a month, she was going to don yet another frou-frou style dress and watch yet another one of her friends marry the man of her dreams. She wasn’t looking forward to standing there with her best I’m so happy for you smile, and then hiding in a corner hoping no one would notice her so she could avoid teasing about her finding the one. There was no one for her and frankly, she didn’t want there to be.
The elevator doors opened and Abby stepped inside. As she turned to press the number for her floor, she wondered if her luck, or lack thereof, would make the plane crash on the way home so she didn’t have to face not catching a bouquet yet again. What was the difference anyway since she had no man? Not even a date for the blasted wedding. She leaned against the back wall, closed her eyes, and exhaled a long breath. No, her luck never went her way—well, except maybe last night.
As the elevator ride made her stomach turn unpleasantly her thoughts returned to the man she’d left sleeping with his dark wavy hair, eyes the color of sweet warm honey, and so many muscles. Oh, he had such deliciously carved muscles, which flinched and shifted under her fingertips as he made her experience sensations she never knew her body could feel.
Damn, her luck sucked big time. Vegas could keep its secrets. Hers were going with her, because it was all she had.
The sound of a strange sounding car horn pulled Mitch from the best dream he’d had since perhaps college. He was kissing an incredibly beautiful woman with silky reddish colored hair, which felt like spun silk gliding over his fingers. She’d fit in his arms as no other woman ever had—not even the one who had destroyed his heart—and her lips definitely tasted like sweet wine.
Damn whatever disturbed him because now he was awake, and didn’t want to be. His head ached and his eyes felt like someone had thrown a bucket of grit in them. Rolling over, he pulled a nearby pillow over his head. Suddenly, he sat up with a low groan his head rebelling against the sudden movement. Settling slowly back against his pillow, he pressed the other one to his face. Her scent, it was there. She was real. She hadn’t just lived in his dreams after all. She’d really been here—in his bed, and in his arms.
Mitch Braxton glanced around the palatial hotel room. Pulling himself slowly up to sit on the side of the king-size bed still gripping the pillow, he waited for the room to stop spinning. Had she truly been real? He squinted in the direction of the other side of the bed. Someone had definitely been there by the way the covers lay folded back at an angle. The sheets were rumpled and there were a few loose strands of long hair left behind. Something glittered where another pillow lay cock-eyed on the bed. Sliding his hand over toward it, he pinched it from the covers. Lifting his hand and squinting through aching eyelids, he realized it was a heart-shaped crystal on a delicate gold chain.
So she really had been here with him last night. It wasn’t a dream. He remembered lifting the beautiful simple heart away from warm soft skin and her telling him something about her father, but now it was all hazy as if mired in a fog. Mitch closed his eyes and clutched the necklace to his chest.
He remembered now. After returning from his less than enjoyable meeting with the man who wished to put him out of business, he’d seen her sitting quietly by the pool with a sad expression instead of enjoying herself with the other partiers dancing and boozing inside the club. He’d asked her if there was something, anything at all, he could do to make her smile and she’d responded by asking him if all men were liars. Well, he certainly couldn’t stand by and allow her to make such a sweeping generalization about his entire gender so of course, he’d told her that they most certainly were not. Remembering how she’d laughed at his remark, the sound was better than any music escaping the sliding doors to the club. Handing her his glass, he had filled it from the bottle of champagne he’d retrieved from the bar. He was supposed to be celebrating the prospective sale of his company to the almighty king of social media networking, Jack Morgan, but couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but regret about it since Brax, Inc. was his pride and joy.
After she’d unloaded her thoughts on how men cheat and lie. After she’d exclaimed how she was never falling in love again, and would never marry because she was an independent woman and had no need of man, they had shared a few more drinks. Soon they were riding the elevator up to her floor but when the doors opened, they were too busy kissing to notice. The elevator continued to the top floor where his very grand penthouse suite awaited them. The bottle of champagne they’d had with them was nearly empty but fortunately, there was another in the mini-bar.
Remembering having drunk entirely too much champagne, Mitch glanced toward the coffee table in front of a small sofa and sure enough, on it an empty bottle rested on its side accompanied by two empty glasses. One thing he clearly remembered was that he hadn’t been too drunk to enjoy the delights she’d shared with him.
Pushing himself forward, he grabbed the nightstand next to the bed and slowly climbed to his feet. After waiting for a brief spell of nausea to pass, he looked to each of the end tables expectantly, and then the coffee table—no note, nothing. He moved slowly toward the small kitchen off the living area with the hope she might have left something there for him—with perhaps her name and number on it.
Shit! What was her name? Annie? No, it wasn’t that but close to it, he was sure or hoped anyway. Rubbing his eyes, he wished he could think better. Damn, but he wished he could remember her name. If he knew her name, he could call the front desk and find out who she was. Maybe he could anyway. After all, how many women had rooms on the…oh hell, which floor had she told him her room was on? Then again, how would he explain not even knowing her first name or why he wanted to find her?
Sitting with a groan on the sofa, which was as far as he could manage right now, he hugged the pillow carrying her scent. He was getting too old for this kind of stuff. At thirty-five, he was tiring of the chase and subsequent escape from most relationships with women. He wanted something special. Of course, he’d had something special once or so he’d thought, but when he was ready to make his love for her permanent, she’d abandoned him for another man. Perhaps love and he weren’t meant to coexist. After all, he’d been completely wrong then and now, expected never to have it for real ever again. Still, he couldn’t deny he wanted what his kid sister, well stepsister actually, was about to embrace by marrying the man who had swept her off her feet in a mere six months.
He truly envied his sweet little sister, Caroline, her impending nuptials. Of course, he’d never admit it to her or to his mother who was always pleading with him to find a nice girl, settle down, and give her grandchildren. Closing his eyes at the thought, he knew he wanted it all the same, but a man can’t always have what he wants. It takes two to make it work and trusting a woman again was something he wasn’t sure he was ready to do.
Mitch inhaled deeply from the pillow in his arms. Wow, his mystery lady had smelled like heaven. He remembered that about her. She smelled like a freshly made vanilla shake, the kind so thick and creamy that the straw stood up straight in the middle of the glass and to drink it, he’d have to suck so hard he’d nearly pass out from the lack of air. That was what it was like last night. Making love to her was just like sucking the sweet deliciousness of a thick shake through a straw, and he probably had passed out after climbing so high with passion he couldn’t even remember her name. Her eyes, however, he did remember her eyes. They were green like newly emerged leaves on a spring day. He’d never seen eyes like hers before. They were green but seemed to sparkle like an opal gem with bits of gray-blue, gold, and amber slipping around a dark center and cast against a bed of new leaves.
Angie? Is her name Angie? Shit!
An annoying electronic tonal sound, which he imagined someone had once thought musical, sounded off from his jacket as it lay across a nearby chair. Glancing at the digital clock on the table next to the bed, he groaned because he knew he was in trouble. He’d missed his flight back to Los Angeles, and had no doubt whatsoever the missed call was from Elise, his very diligent, very prompt and at times, very obsessive-compulsive assistant.
Mitch decided a shower was necessary before he spoke to Elise. His assistant was the best in the world, but entirely too obsessed with details. Yes, he was supposed to be back in LA for a meeting with his lawyer this afternoon but really, was it imperative he be back first thing in the morning? Obviously, Elise thought so which was why she’d booked him on an early flight out of Las Vegas this morning. Normally, he wouldn’t mind but this morning, he just wanted a bus to hit him and put him out of his misery.
As he headed for the bathroom, he wondered if he should put his feisty little Latina assistant on the trail of the mystery woman who very well may have stolen his heart with a kiss, and then run off like Cinderella after the ball without even a glass slipper to help him find her. Only a delicate glass heart as fragile as his own, which he’d never be able to match to its owner. He wished she’d stayed or at least woke him before leaving.
Perhaps she is married. No, he remembered her railing about men and never marrying.
Who is she then? Somehow, he suspected she wasn’t going to disappear from his thoughts any time soon. He also knew he definitely would like to see her again, even if they had put the cart before the horse, so to speak.
There’s little chance of ever finding her. On the other hand, Elise could find out anything about anyone, even if she had to bully it out of someone just like she usually did him.
Vegas! Why did I have to meet such a woman in Vegas?
Stepping into the shower with a slim hope of warding off the hangover pounding at him, he doubted he’d get any information about her here. No one ever gave up information here—ever!

—When It Doesn’t Stay in Vegas by Amy Valentini

I hope you’re as excited about reading this Rom-Com treat as I am about bringing it to you.
Happy Reading Everyone!

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