Hurricanes and Handcuffs

By Jodi Redford

Gabrielle Scott is fed up with helping her playboy boss seduce and woo his countless bimbettes courtesy of her culinary masterpieces. Yeah, the pay is good, and you can’t beat the luxurious digs she’s treated to as his resident personal chef. But she can’t afford the frustration of living under the same roof with the one man who drives her crazy in every possible way. The damnable truth? She’s in love with the irredeemable bastard, and the only way she’ll get over him is to get naked under him. The plan? Attend Jax’s annual Mardi Gras ball incognito and entice him into a hot night of sin—right before handing in her resignation.

Jaxon Noble always gets what he wants. Especially when it comes to the opposite sex. So when Gabbi shows up at his party in an eye-popping costume and outrageously flirts with him it’s a foregone conclusion that she’ll finally be his. About damn time the stubborn woman came to her senses. He’s more than happy to go along with her game, and the combustible heat they generate together proves it was well worth the wait to have her. But when morning comes and Gabrielle calmly announces she’s quitting, Jax is faced with the sobering fact that perhaps money can’t buy everything. Or more to the point—the only person who’s ever meant anything to him.

For someone who’s used to winning at all costs, losing Gabbi isn’t an option. And Jax will pull out every sweet and sexy trick to convince her to take a chance on a forever with him. Even if it means handcuffing her to his bed.

Warning: This book contains a sassy chef, one determined bad boy billionaire, Fur-lined handcuffs and inappropriate consumption of beignets, several sinful drizzles of honey, and enough sizzling chemistry to set off the smoke alarms.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jodi Redford
• Release date: Feb 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311562234

Jodi Redford

At the ripe age of seven, Jodi Redford penned her first epic, complete with stick figure illustrations. Sadly, her drawing skills haven’t improved much, but her love of fantasy worlds never went away. These days she writes about fairies, ghosts, and other supernatural creatures, only with considerably more heat. She has won numerous awards, including The Golden Pen and Launching a Star. When not writing or working the day job, she enjoys gardening and way too many reality television shows.  

Book preview

Hurricanes and Handcuffs

By

Jodi Redford

Hurricanes and Handcuffs

Copyright 2014 Jodi Redford

Edited by JL Stalker

Published by Jodi Redford

Cover by Becky McGraw

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or

dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other peopleThank you for respecting the hard work of this author. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the web-without permission in writing from the author.

CHAPTER ONE

Gabrielle Scott dumped the ball of bread dough onto the floured counter top and began pounding it to within an inch of its life. Well, technically she was mentally pummeling Jaxon Noble, but the dough provided a convenient proxy for her infuriating employer. It was just like him to spring this Mardi Gras event on her last minute. He had no clue of all of the work that went into his spur of the moment parties because he had her to take care of everything for him.

How one man could be the source of every frustrated, horny, and pathetically lovelorn thought in her head was beyond her. She should have listened to her mother’s advice about not courting the massive headaches that accompanied being a Noble employee. With her mom’s thirty plus years as their family’s nanny and then later their head housekeeper, she was clearly the reigning authority on the matter. At least Sophia Scott never made the boneheaded mistake of falling for one of the Nobles. Smart woman. Apparently the apple fell several hundred yards from the tree in Gabbi’s case.

Blowing a loose strand of hair away from her eye, she sprinkled another handful of flour and continued taking her grievances out on the pliant lump of sourdough.

Damn, Gabbi. No wonder you have some serious guns. Would hate to be on the receiving end of your left hook, Killer.

She stiffened at the infuriating whiskey-smooth baritone behind her. Did the sonofabitch instinctively know every time he was camped out in her brain? He always magically appeared to taunt and entice her that extra mile. Seriously, maybe he was a genie. Or a maniacal leprechaun hell bent on driving her insane. That last option sounded most likely.

A high-pitched girlish laugh capable of shattering glass piggybacked Jax’s observation. Gabbi clenched her teeth. Oh hell no. Bad enough she was forced to feed these brainless gold digger twats. Now Jax was parading them under her nose?

She was going to fucking kill him. That’s all there was to it.

It’s so unfeminine having too much muscle, the bimbette said with a catty snicker. Not to mention how horrible it looks when it eventually turns to fat when you get old and wrinkled.

Her fingers cramping, Gabbi glanced at the wood block crammed with razor-sharp Wusthof knives across the way. Tempting. The click-click-click of heels on the marble floor announced the steady approach of her unwanted company, and she reluctantly shifted her focus toward them.

The female was Jax’s usual type—blonde, leggy, and barely legal or dressed. Seriously, considering he was wealthier than Croesus, it wasn’t like Jax couldn’t buy these chicks some duds that’d actually cover their asses. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she transferred her irritated stare to her boss.

From the tips of his expensive Italian leather wingtips to the platinum and onyx cufflinks adorning his impeccably tailored gray Armani suit, Jax was the epitome of sex-on-a-stick. And the damnable man knew it. It was as if God had decided that it wouldn’t be enough to make Jax sole heir to one of the biggest media conglomerates in North America, why not go completely overboard with blessings and grace him with a gorgeous face and body that made normally sane women consider pitching their panties for one hot night of sin with him. And that’s precisely all it would amount to. Jax replaced his women more frequently than most folks switched out a roll of toilet paper.

The bimbette rubbed against Jax’s side, her full lips pouty and no doubt injected with more collagen than Gabbi’s favorite moisturizer. I thought you were going to show me the rest of the mansion.

But this is the best room in the entire place. Jax tossed Gabbi a wink that made her long to either lob the bread dough at his head or tackle him to the ground and ride him until they were both yippee-ki-yayed out. Both sounded far too appealing at the moment.

It smells funny in here. Ms. Flavor of the Week scrunched her perfect little nose and made a face.

Gabbi grunted. What? You mean like food? Imagine that craziness.

Death rays shot from the woman’s eyes, but the second Jax glanced her way she plastered on a phony-baloney smile. I was really hoping you’d show me your bedroom.

Subtle. Then again, at least she didn’t hike up her Band-Aid of a skirt and beg Jax to fuck her right there on the kitchen island. Despite her inner bitchiness, Gabbi’s stomach churned when Jax led his guest out of the room.

She wasn’t clueless about what went on after he seduced his lady friends with her culinary confections. And it absolutely tore her up inside. These money grubbing bimbos didn’t love him. Yes, there were a million and one reasons for why she’d be wise to kill her own feelings where Jax was concerned. But it was impossible to stop loving someone you’d ached for the better part of your entire life.

The insanity topping her massive foolishness? She wasn’t blind to his countless flaws. Hell, she probably knew him better than he knew himself. She had over twenty-five years of history with Jax prior to accepting the position as his live-in personal chef. It seemed like it was only yesterday that she first stepped through the doorway of his parent’s house. Shit, if you could even call it that. Their twenty-four thousand square foot summer residence made this mansion look like a freakin’ shack. To a bedazzled six year old, it’d seemed like Cinderella’s Castle on steroids. And the analogy was perfect, because Jax had been her dashing prince and playmate.

Back then she’d had no concept of the vast chasm of money and social standing that