In the Market for Love Read online

  Every passion has its price

  The devastatingly attractive stranger who walks into Tender Hearts Memorial Hospital instantly raises red flags for Vivian Moore. The ER nurse’s worst fears are confirmed when she discovers who he is: the real estate developer rumored to be snatching up many of the properties in her old neighborhood. And Vivian is sure his passionate pursuit is just a front for the prize Alonso Wright is really after—her beloved childhood home.

  Alonso is committed to building a community-events center that will be a lasting monument to his grandfather’s memory. The only thing keeping him from fulfilling his dream is the compassionate, guarded beauty who refuses to negotiate. If he fails, Alonso stands to lose a significant investment. But once he gives in to his desire for Vivian, he could lose something far more precious. As a hurricane batters the North Carolina coast, an unscrupulous business associate threatens to derail Alonso’s future, which now means nothing without Vivian to share it with him...

  Vivian’s breath seized in her chest from the sheer sincerity she witnessed in Alonso’s eyes. Swallowing hard, she did her best to retain some semblance of control.

  “You’re afraid,” he continued. “You’re afraid of this thing we have going on.” He cradled her face between his hands. “This wild, insane, all-consuming energy we generate. You don’t trust it. You don’t trust it because you don’t trust me. But that’s okay. You will.”

  “Always the businessman. Say what you need to to get what you want.”

  “I want you. I want you,” he repeated as if she hadn’t heard him the first two times. “I’ve never wanted anything or anyone more. Tell me you don’t want me, too.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Liar. You want me just as much as I want you.”

  His hands slid to her neck and he pulled her mouth closer to his, but instead of kissing her—something she shamelessly craved—he spoke in a gentle tone against her lips.

  “You want me. You want me to kiss you until you’re breathless.”

  “I don’t.” Though the longing in her tone suggested otherwise.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you so much for purchasing my debut Harlequin Kimani Romance title, In the Market for Love. I’m superexcited for you to meet Alonso Wright and Vivian Moore. These two spark a flame that blazes a path toward happily-ever-after; however, there are a few bumps along the way.

  Alonso doesn’t want to admit he’s met his match in Vivian, but she can turn his world upside down with a simple glance. Like most powerful men, Alonso believes money can buy anything. But Vivian will show him love is free.

  Like the tagline says: every passion has its price.

  I hope you enjoy Alonso and Vivian’s love story and that their journey toward happiness tickles your heart, touches your emotions and warms your soul.

  Thank you for supporting me!

  Love and light,

  Joy

  PS: I love hearing from readers. Email me at [email protected].

  By day, Joy Avery works as a customer-service assistant. By night, the North Carolina native travels to imaginary worlds, creating characters whose romantic journeys invariably end happily-ever-after.

  Since she was a young girl growing up in Garner, Joy knew she wanted to write. Stumbling onto romance novels, she discovered her passion for love stories and instantly knew those were the type of stories she wanted to pen.

  Joy is married with one child. When not writing, she enjoys reading, cake decorating, pretending to expertly play the piano, driving her husband insane and playing with her two dogs.

  Books by Joy Avery

  Harlequin Kimani Romance

  In the Market for Love

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  Dedicated to the dream.

  Acknowledgments

  To Marcus:

  Thank you for your unwavering support and your patience and understanding when I switch into writerzilla mode.

  To Avion:

  Thank you for the random sticky notes of encouragement placed around my writing room.

  To Paula, aka Lyla Dune:

  Thank you for being an awesome critique partner.

  To my readers, my tribe, my street team:

  What can I say? You guys totally rock and totally roll. Your support is amazing! I appreciate each and every one of you. From the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU! Thank you for your support! Thank you for your wonderful emails and messages. Thank you for your encouragement. Thank you for believing in my love stories and sharing your love for Joy Avery romances with the world.

  To my friends and family:

  Thank you for your support!

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Secret Miami Nights by Pamela Yaye

  Chapter 1

  Vivian Moore stood at the nurses’ station inside Raleigh’s Tender Hearts Memorial Hospital, where she’d worked for the past six years, pecking away at the tablet she’d been issued. The newly implemented “convenience” hadn’t turned out to be the inconvenience she’d originally assumed it would be, after all. A point for the home team.

  Tuning out the beeping, chiming and chatter swirling around her, she focused on entering the vitals for her last patient of the day. The last patient of the day. The thought made her smile. Unfortunately, instead of going home, climbing into bed and sleeping for three days straight, she had to meet with a persistent real estate developer who couldn’t seem to take no for an answer over the phone. Hopefully, face-to-face will do the trick.

  “Vi?”

  Only one person ever addressed her by the shortened name—her best friend and fellow ER nurse, Tressa. Vivian turned to see Tressa hurrying toward her, jet-black locks bouncing with each step the petite woman took.

  By the expression on Tressa’s soft brown face, she’d experienced the unexplainable. Vivian grew concerned. The last time Tressa donned such a look, she’d been socked in the jaw by a disgruntled patient. Well, she wasn’t crying. That was a good sign, right?

  Vivian pushed her tablet aside. “What’s wrong?”

  For a second or two, Tressa stood speechless but finally snapped out of her stupor. “I just saw him. And he is fine. I mean, capital-F fine.” Her eyes did a dreamy flutter. “And chocolate. Deliciously chocolate. Mmm.”

  By him, Vivian had no doubt she referred to the drop-dead gorgeous man rumored to be roaming the halls earlier. Uninterested had been Vivian’s feeling, but if the man’s looks had the ability to render Tressa speechless—a task not easily accomplished—then maybe he just might be worthy of all the whispers that had burned through the halls like
a wildfire.

  Though initially apathetic, she had to admit she was a little curious, until an image of her trifling ex flashed in her head. Her jaw tightened at the mere thought of the man—dog—no-good bastard. If he’d taught her anything, it’d been to never trust a handsome face.

  Adopting her previous state of disinterest, Vivian returned her attention to the tablet. But Tressa had other plans for her attention, hooking her arm around Vivian’s and venturing down the brightly lit corridor. “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “I have work to do, Tress.”

  “Trust me, this will be well worth the brief distraction.”

  “I don’t—” Vivian stopped abruptly with Tressa directing her attention to the statue of a man several feet away, a cell phone pinned to his ear.

  Vivian’s eyes raked over his well-put-together body. Six-three, two twenty-five. A calculated guess, but she would wager she was spot-on. His skin was as smooth and dark as the tempered chocolate used on a sinful-desserts show she’d watched earlier that week. Both stirred her hunger, but for totally different reasons.

  “You were saying?”

  If Vivian had to guess, Tressa was standing with her arms folded across her chest and a smirk on her face. Unfortunately gravity, the universe, lust—she didn’t know which—wouldn’t allow her to pull her eyes away from him to verify.

  The way the navy blue suit pants fit his toned lower half, there could be no disputing they’d been custom tailored just for him. Allowing her eyes to roam a bit higher, she fixed on the mound that bulged at his biceps when he bent his arm to massage his neatly groomed beard with two long fingers.

  Even with an obstructed view of what lay beneath the crisp blue-and-white pin-striped shirt, she had a good idea it could make her knees knock. Her gaze trailed over his wide shoulders. Never again would she look at suspenders as an old man’s accessory.

  If by some foolish chance she’d forgotten it’d been close to a year since she’d had sex, the way her body was currently responding would have instantly reminded her. A searing heat—having nothing to do with the June temperature—blossomed in her cheeks, flowed down her body and settled right between her legs.

  “Oh, my God, did you just moan?”

  Tressa’s words snapped Vivian out of her trancelike stare. Vivian shifted toward Tressa. “No—” She cleared her throat. “No, I didn’t moan.” Had she? With her arms across her chest—just as Vivian had guessed—Tressa flashed her a do-I-look-dumb-to-you expression.

  Vivian sighed and rolled her eyes away, inadvertently—or intentionally, at this point, she didn’t know—landing back on him again. God, you are one good-looking man. I bet you are all types of trouble. Had Tressa really labeled him a brief distraction? There was nothing brief about this man. His entire presence screamed prolonged.

  “Ahem.”

  The sound coming from behind them made every muscle in Vivian’s body seize. Only one person in the entire hospital had that effect on her. Ms. Kasetta. Busted. They both turned slowly to face Tender Hearts’s most stern ER charge nurse.

  “Good morning, Ms. Kasetta,” said Vivian.

  Tressa echoed the greeting.

  Ms. Kasetta stood with her hands clasped behind her back, donning her usual tight scowl. Vivian couldn’t recall ever seeing the woman smile. Many joked she’d been there since Tender Hearts was founded sixty years ago. The woman may have been hard-nosed, but no one garnered more respect or kept the ER running as flawlessly as she did.

  Ms. Kasetta gave a staunch nod. “Ms. Moore. Ms. Washington.”

  When Ms. Kasetta’s eyes roamed past them, Vivian didn’t need to follow her stare to know where her gaze had settled, because something in her firm expression softened. Obviously she’d experienced the heat wave, too. Vivian bit back the smile that twitched at the corners of her mouth.

  A beat later, Ms. Kasetta’s attention returned to them. “Ms. Moore, where’s your name badge?”

  Shit. Vivian touched the bare spot her badge usually occupied. “I...must have left it in my locker. I’ll get it now.”

  “See that you do.”

  Ms. Kasetta sent one more glance in Tempered Chocolate’s direction, then was off.

  Tressa exhaled as if she’d been holding her breath the entire time. “That woman scares the hell out of me.”

  Vivian eyed the direction Ms. Kasetta had traveled. “She scares the hell out of everyone.”

  Tressa performed an animated shiver. “I have to get back to work before Dragon Lady sets me ablaze. You can thank me later.”

  Vivian shook her head as her friend ambled away. Thank her? More like strangle her for ever introducing me to this mayhem. Unable to resist, she dared one last look at Tempered Chocolate.

  If the way he paced back and forth and ran his hand over his head was any indication, the call was not going so well. Who was he here to see? Probably a girlfriend or wife. Didn’t really matter. To her, he was just something good to look at.

  And as if he sensed Vivian’s eyes locked to him, he glanced in her direction. She gasped from the unexpected connection. The phone lowered from his ear, but then eased back. All she could do was continue to dumbly ogle him.

  Their eyes held for what she’d label an eternity. Had her feet not been rooted to the industrial tile, she would have darted away. Luckily, the blaring ding that always preceded an overhead announcement sounded, jolting her from the paralyzed state. Hurrying away, she escaped to the locker room to retrieve her badge and decompress.

  Inside the dimly lit room, Vivian searched everywhere: her gym bag, her purse, the floor. No badge. She was certain she’d packed it. Well, almost certain. Finally settling on the fact the badge was MIA she tossed her head back and released an audible sigh.

  The thought of the judgmental look Ms. Kasetta would undoubtedly toss her once she confessed she’d lost yet another badge made Vivian sigh even more heavily. Maybe she could make it to human resources and have one printed before she ran into the daunting woman again.

  Vivian dug into her wallet for a twenty. It was no secret the implementation of the fee for replacement badges was a result of her inability to keep up with the dreaded thing.

  The locker room door swung open, and Vivian jolted. Her coworker Gemma rushed inside.

  “Oh, thank goodness. I found you.”

  Vivian was afraid to ask why the woman sought her. Whatever the reason, it undoubtedly meant more work for Vivian. “What can I do for you?” The question of doom.

  “Can you take my patient in bay fourteen? Please, please, please. He’s homeless, and you’re good with them. And he smells. The stench never seems to bother you.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “You know I’m pregnant. I can’t take the odor. I’d throw up everywhere. It wouldn’t be professional to throw up on a patient. I’ll owe you lots and lots. Anything. Any—”

  Vivian flashed her palm to pause an anxious Gemma. Four years in North Carolina and the woman still had the deepest New Orleans accent. It seemed to grow deeper whenever she got excited—like now.

  “Calm down, momma. I’ll do it.” So much for last patient of the day. Vivian rested her hand on Gemma’s not-yet-protruding stomach. “All this excitement is no good for the baby.”

  “I know. I just get so overwhelmed sometimes. You’re a lifesaver, Vivian. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Tears clouded Gemma’s eyes. Pregnancy had turned the usually take-no-prisoners woman into a bundle of emotions. Vivian truly didn’t mind. With her work at the homeless shelter and time spent volunteering at the soup kitchen, plus working in a hospital setting, she’d become nose blind to most odors.

  Rubbing Gemma’s shoulders, she said, “You know I’ve got your back, girl. Stay here and get yourself together. I’ll be in to check on you once I’m done.
Okay?”

  A crimson-faced Gemma nodded and rubbed at her eyes.

  Outside the locker room, Vivian sighed. She honestly felt sympathy for the woman. Once her boyfriend had learned she was pregnant, he’d taken off and left her. What in the hell is wrong with men these days?

  Unlike most hospitals, Tender Hearts’s “bays” were actual rooms and not the customary dismal curtains that separated individuals in the ER. The second Vivian entered Mr. Hamilton Price’s room the odor of sweat and hard living hit her.

  Yes, it was enough to water your eyes, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Compared to the things she’d smelled in the past, this was pine cleaner. The instant her eyes landed on the scruffy man reclined in the bed, she recognized him from the soup kitchen where she volunteered.

  Mr. Price’s salt-and-pepper hair hung in locks down his back. She wasn’t sure if his dark, leathery skin was a result of the elements or time. If nothing else, he certainly appeared to eat well, and that made her happy. The thought of anyone going hungry troubled her.

  “Mr. Price?”

  He rotated his head toward her. A smile lifted the corners of his mouth, revealing several missing teeth on the bottom and a bit of decay on the others.

  “That’s me, pretty lady. Come on over here closer so I can see you a little better.”

  Vivian smiled and neared the bed. “Well, you know, Mr. Price—”

  “Call me Hamilton. Mr. Price was my father. Boy, he was an ornery SOB.”

  He laughed—ta-hee-hee—or at least Vivian thought it was laughter.

  “Yep, an ornery SOB, but a good man. Not many of them around these days, good men.”

  He didn’t have to try to convince her. She totally agreed. Calling the mature gentleman by his first name felt disrespectful, but she did as instructed and honored his wishes. “Hamilton, if you took your diabetes medication like you’re supposed to, you wouldn’t have this blurry vision. You’d be able to see me clear across the room.”

  He laughed again. “Oh, I like you already. Feisty. And I know someone else who’d like you, too. You know them good men I—”

 
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