| Sample
Chapter For FANTASIES UNDERCOVER: ANYWHERE, ANYTIME, ANYWAY Book 3 by
Barbara Baldwin
Travis McVicker plunked his laptop case
onto his desk at the Boston Chronicle and began sorting through a stack
of mail. He’d just returned from Africa, where he’d gone with
his brother, Chase, in the hopes of a great story. They’d been held
hostage and threatened with death, and now he couldn’t even write
the story since it involved a small group of tribal people trying to eke
out a living. If he wrote about the scavenging for gold tailings after
mines were shut down, Big Corporate would post guards and the tribes would
become even more impoverished than they were now.
He let out a sigh as he dropped into his chair. Hell,
he would have written the story anyway, if not for Katie Jo, Chase’s
new wife, who was the basic reason for the trip in the first place. She
wouldn’t allow him to endanger people, who at one time, had been
her father’s friends.
“Oh, well,” he said to no one in particular,
“there’ll be other stories that’ll get me the Prize.”
Travis only took the toughest stories Ned Chancy dished
out at the weekly assignment meetings in the editorial office of the Boston
Chronicle. The reason? There was nothing Travis wanted more than to win
the Pulitzer Prize for journalism.
Nothing, that is, until he looked across the newsroom
when the elevator dinged and Morgan Gentry walked back into his life.
Flashback to his senior year in high school. He had the
hots for her so bad, he had almost gotten kicked off the football team
because he spent his time watching her at cheerleading practice, instead
of paying attention to the coach. But she had never seen past the fact
that he was a whiz at algebra and could help her pass.
Now here he was, nine years later, staring at her again
as she walked into Chancy’s office; again fantasizing about what
he’d like to do with those long legs and voluptuous breasts. She
looked better than he remembered, even in his dreams. What had she been
doing since high school? He tried to see past a potted palm in the editor’s
office so he could read their lips. And what was she doing here?
It wasn’t long before he found out. Chancy, news
editor at the Chronicle for the past hundred years or so, walked Morgan
out of his office and directly toward Travis. For once, he wished he had
worn something other than a ratty tee shirt and holey jeans. If his current
story didn’t depend—
“McVicker, Morgan Gentry,” Chancy boomed as
if TJ couldn’t hear. “She’s new; been working at the
LA Sun. Show her around.” With that, he returned to his office.
Chancy talked like the news—who, what, when, where, and why—just
the basic facts in as few words as possible.
Travis rose from his chair and leaned over his desk to
offer his hand. She looked at him as though she knew him, but couldn’t
place him. Travis decided not to remind her of the geek with glasses who
all but stalked her nine years ago.
“McVicker? That name sounds familiar. Have we met?”
She accepted his hand and Travis noted how soft and smooth hers was. He
also felt a frisson of excitement burst inside his chest at her touch.
He watched her eyes. Yep, she felt it, too. She tilted
her head, and he knew she was trying to assess him; trying to pick up
the intangible information everyone gives off through their body language.
It was an attribute of a good reporter, and not everybody had it.
“Hello?” Her voice brought him back to the
newsroom.
“Sorry. I was contemplating your question. I’m
sure I would remember if I had met you recently.” He bent the truth
because he didn’t want her to know he had fantasized about her for
years. “Name’s Travis, but my friends call me TJ.”
“Mr. Chancy said I was your desk mate. That’s
not exactly a word I’ve heard before. Would you mind explaining?”
Travis shrugged. “Just that our desks face each
other—saves space and all.” He wasn’t going to tell
her that it also meant they were reporting partners. Chancy knew he preferred
to work alone. He’d have to talk to the boss before he let loose
with that information.
“How long have you worked here?” Morgan asked
as she sat down, shifting the pencil holder, the scrap paper and the computer
mouse to better suit her. She dropped her purse in the side drawer.
“Looking for a story?” Travis asked. The trouble
with having her sit across from him was that he couldn’t see her
legs, which he had noted were bare beneath the knee length straight denim
skirt she wore. Her pink blouse was a standard oxford style, except on
her, it looked sexy as hell. She had the back of the collar up and two
buttons were undone so when he tilted his head to the side just right,
he caught a glimpse of cleavage.
She smiled at his question, removing the clip from her
hair and shaking her head to let down waves of glorious blonde hair. Her
gesture was wanton and seductive and Travis immediately got a hard-on.
She combed her fingers through the shoulder length strands and with an
effective twist, had it reclipped in a knot. Damn, he wished she had left
it down.
“Just being neighborly. I’m sure there are
more interesting topics to find for stories.” She turned to the
computer, flipped it on, and began typing.
Talk about a put-down. Travis sat there and looked at
her, thinking nine years from high school had made her more beautiful,
but she still ignored him like he was eighteen. And he still had the hots
for her body. Damn.
His phone rang, giving him something else to think about.
It was one of his informants, trying to make money giving him information
that was old news to Travis.
“Call back when you have something worthwhile, Brickman,”
he said and dropped the phone back into the cradle.
“McVicker, get in here!” Chancy yelled from
his door. The man never talked in a normal voice, regardless of how far
a person happened to be from him.
“Christ, and it’s only Monday,” he groused
as he rolled away from his desk. His comment brought a smile to Morgan’s
face and he tucked it away in his file on her, which was already overflowing
with memories. He sorted and filed things in neat compartments in his
brain, always having details at his fingertips. He decided as he walked
away to start a new file—Morgan in my sights.
* * * *
Morgan sighed as she watched TJ walk to Chancy’s
office. He looked so good. She had tried to pretend she didn’t know
him, but there was no way she could ever forget any of the McVicker boys.
There had been enough years between the six of them that not more than
one or two had been in high school at any one time, but between her and
four sisters, most of her family had gone to school with a McVicker. And
like her, all of her sisters had panted after at least one of them during
any given time of the year. Not only were they extremely good looking,
but they all competed in school sports and had very athletic bodies.
When she had moved back to Boston last week, her mom had
told her that Gordon, Michael, Steve and now Chase were all married. She
hadn’t talked to her sisters so didn’t know how they felt
about that, but to Morgan, it was only Travis James who mattered. When
her mom mentioned that he still lived in town and worked for the very
newspaper where she had just accepted a job, she had fallen asleep dreaming
about him. That dream had been vivid enough to give her a sleeping orgasm
and she had awakened with a very unsettled feeling.
“Let’s go,” Travis said, jerking her
out of her daydream. He walked past his desk without stopping, picking
up his cell phone along the way. “We’ve got a story.”
“We?” Morgan grabbed her purse and hurried
after him.
“Boss says I need to show you the ropes.”
Morgan huffed. “I’ve been a reporter for four
years. I think I know how to write a story.”
The elevator doors closed behind them.
Travis raised a brow, a trait Morgan remembered as part
of every one of the McVicker boys’ charm. “If you’re
so good, where’s your notebook?”
Morgan tapped her forehead. “Photographic memory.”
Travis shrugged. “I don’t think Chancy meant
anything by telling me to take you along. He just figures you need to
get to know the town.”
Morgan rolled her eyes. She had grown up here and Chancy
knew that from her resume.
They reached the underground parking lot and Morgan followed
Travis to his car. “No company cars?” she asked, sliding into
the passenger side of a rather old Monte Carlo.
Travis snorted. “You kidding? Paying us twenty cents
a mile is a helluva lot cheaper.”
They drove to an outlying section of town and parked in
front of a rundown house. Travis turned the car off and slouched down
in his seat.
“Aren’t we getting out?”
He shook his head. “Surveillance. There’s
been some high-powered men coming in and out of Boston lately and we got
a tip there’s a buy going down.”
“Buy for what?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know. Drugs, counterfeiting,
weapons. That’s the problem with informants—they don’t
always have all the details.”
“Which house?”
“Third on the left. Let me know if you see anything.”
With that, Travis tipped his head back against the headrest and closed
his eyes.
Morgan smiled. If he thought he’d intimidate her
or make her feel like she was some cub reporter, he had another think
coming. She was used to undercover work. In fact, that was one of the
reasons she had decided to leave the LA Sun. Her boss thought she was
too pretty to be doing stories about dirty criminals and police brutality
so he had assigned her the society section. Talk about crap. She was after
a Pulitzer, and a reporter didn’t get that by writing up wedding
announcements.
Morgan kept an eye on the house, but she also took time
to study Travis. His hair was longer than she remembered, swept back from
his forehead and just reaching his collar. It was wavy and dark brown
and she itched to run her fingers through it to see if it felt as silky
as it looked. He still wore glasses, but had gone from dark frames to
rimless, the round lens accenting his deep-set, brown eyes.
When she had followed him out of the office, she hadn’t
missed the way his jeans fit tight across his butt, or the fact there
was a rip just below the back pocket and she had seen skin, not boxers
or briefs. The tee shirt he wore had some rude saying about golfers having
longer shafts, but she was more interested in what it covered. Travis
McVicker had filled out quite nicely over the years. His arms were muscled,
but not to the obscene point of the bodybuilders on Ventura Beach. The
tee shirt fit snugly across his chest, leaving little doubt that the rest
of his body was just as muscular as what she could see.
She glanced out the window again, paying careful attention
to the house they were watching. Nothing moved. There were no lights on,
no car in the drive. She wondered if there was really anything going on,
or if this was part of some hazing she got as a new reporter.
She turned her attention back to Travis and found him
staring at her. Those eyes that didn’t miss a thing slowly moved
from her face, down her throat, across her shoulders and then lower. It
was as though his hand caressed her, and she could feel her face heat
with a blush. She wanted him to touch her; wanted him to do way more than
that.
“See anything going on?” he asked, his voice
low and husky.
“Not outside,” she answered, just to see if
he would take the bait. He did.
“What about inside?”
“The house, this car, or me?” she shot right
back.
He gave a low whistle. “Are all California girls
as forward as you?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t make a habit of checking
out the girls.”
He laughed. “That’s good to know. I would
hate to think—”
His words were cut off by the sound of gunfire. Before
she had time to react, Travis grabbed her and pushed her down on the seat,
his body covering hers. She found her face hidden against his crotch,
his arms crisscrossed over her lower back. He grabbed his phone out of
the cup holder and dialed a number.
“Shots fired, 154 East 22nd.” A pause. “You
got it covered? Where?”
Just then, sirens went off, but they were a few blocks
away. Morgan tried to sit up but Travis held her down.
“Don’t get up yet. I’m not sure what’s
going on. This place was apparently under surveillance by more people
than us.”
Morgan didn’t mind her position at all, but she
was sorely tempted to turn just a little so she could get a closer look
at what her head was laying on. She didn’t have much experience
with men, regardless of being twenty-seven years old, but she sure knew
what was creating a bulge beneath the zipper of his jeans.
Even as she thought that, she felt him swell and throb.
Did he know what she was thinking, or was it a natural reaction in a man
to pop up whenever a woman had her head in his lap?
She did turn her head then, accidentally letting her teeth
graze against the fabric of his jeans. She heard him groan and she grinned.
She hadn’t been brave enough in high school to go after what she
wanted. She was definitely not going to let that happen again.
“I think you can let me up now,” she said,
her voice muffled by his stomach.
She couldn’t hear his answer but it sounded like
a moan.
“Travis?”
“Huh? No, you’d better stay down there until
the police—come.” He definitely groaned on the last word.
She wiggled around on the seat. Ignoring his warning,
she slowly slid up his body, trying to brace her hands on him, but careful
not to touch anything too sensitive. She ended up with her hands on rock-hard
thighs, her face inches from his.
“Are you going in?” she asked, noting the
breathlessness of her voice. She inhaled, her breasts brushing against
his chest.
His eyes dilated. “I would love to get in. You wanna
come?”
She just about climaxed, the emphasis he placed on his
words giving them a double meaning she couldn’t mistake. And suddenly,
she didn’t know how to answer him. She had wanted Travis McVicker
desperately in high school, but now, nine years later, was he the same?
Was she? If she gave in to her desires, would he be disappointed?
She tried to push away from him, but he grabbed her upper
arms and held her still. His liquid gaze went from her eyes to her lips
and she knew he was going to kiss her. She also knew she wouldn’t
stop him.
Travis’ lips were firm and hot, his breath minty
fresh. He traced the outline of her lips with his tongue, wanting inside
and she opened for him. He deepened the kiss, his tongue mating with hers
in an age-old dance. God, he tasted good.
His hand covered her breast and Morgan shivered in anticipation.
The reality of having Travis kiss her beat her fantasies all to hell.
She pushed against his palm and he gave her more, gently molding her breast
like a sculptor with warm clay.
His thumb grazed her nipple, and she groaned. Her fingers
dug into his thighs. If she hadn’t been supporting herself on her
arms, she would have slid a hand closer and touched him. Even so, she
could sense a throbbing pulse and feel the heat of his erection. When
a cop car whizzed past, sirens blaring, Travis finally released her but
she couldn’t move. Hands still braced on his thighs, thumbs dangerously
close to his erection, she stared into dreamy eyes.
“I don’t remember the girls in high school
bragging about how well you kissed.”
“So, you do know who I am.”
She smiled at him. “I remember. I wouldn’t
have passed algebra without your help.”
Travis frowned. “That’s it?”
“What else was there?” Morgan asked. She wasn’t
ready to tell him how she had really felt. Even without her photographic
memory, she would never have forgotten his mesmerizing brown eyes or his
hands. Hands that she had longed to have caress her, instead of jotting
algebraic equations on their homework.
“Now that you mention it,” Travis said, “I
remember you, too. You were the cheerleader with the snug sweater and
the tight-ass panties under your skirt.”
“That’s what you remember about me?”
She let go of him and plopped down on the seat, scooting toward the door.
“My short skirt and boobs?” She felt somewhat indignant. She
was a product of the new generation where women wanted to be considered
equal and viewed for more than their bodies, even if the first thing she
had noticed about Travis was his body. The sexist standard had become
reversed.
Travis just chuckled at her indignation. “Honey,
at eighteen, there’s not a boy alive who prefers a girl with brains
over one with boobs.” With that remark, he got out of the car and
started walking. Morgan scurried to catch up with him.
The house they had been watching was being emptied, the
police bringing out several men in handcuffs. Travis stopped a police
officer. “What’s up, Tanner?” he asked.
“Thought we had the ringleader of this outfit, but
all of them,” he nodded to the captured men, “are just middlemen.
No big suitcases of money, no cache of cocaine. Just some small stuff
and a meth lab.”
“That’s enough to bust them,” Morgan
put in.
“Who are you?” The lieutenant looked at her
and she could feel his gaze slide down her length, stopping at the points
where men always stop when assessing a woman. For some reason, Morgan
felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny, whereas when Travis had looked
at her, well, it was different.
She saw Travis straighten. “Morgan Gentry. She’s
new at the Chronicle, Tanner, so back off and give her a break. I haven’t
had a chance to tell her yet what a scumbag you are.”
The lieutenant just grinned. He was handsome, in a slick,
almost too perfect kind of way and he reminded her of some actor playing
at being a cop. Even so, he was on the police force, and she knew it was
important to have contacts. So she gave him her most gracious smile and
held out her hand.
“It’s nice to meet a member of law enforcement.
I’ll feel safer knowing you’re on top of things.” She
said the words, knowing he would read a different meaning into them than
she intended. Travis certainly did, for she heard him snort beside her.
Another policeman came up and spoke quietly to the lieutenant.
He turned back to them. “If you would like the story on this, Miss
Gentry, come down to the station and I’ll be happy to visit with
you.” He gave her his card, touched his finger to his forehead in
salute and left with the other officer.
Travis turned and headed back to his car. “What
the hell was that? Is that how you get your stories, handing out favors?”
She heard the anger in his voice but couldn’t figure out where it
came from. It wasn’t like they had any kind of history that prevented
her from playing the field. Where did he get off saying something like
that?
She jerked him around by the arm. “Just wait a minute,
blockhead.” She was suddenly mad at his highhanded attitude. She
poked him in the chest, emphasizing her words. “Don’t ever—ever—think
that I get stories any way but through hard work. I’ve earned every
award I’ve gotten and I will not—”
His lips cut off her words. A quick, hard kiss, certainly
effective in shutting her up. Morgan stood on the sidewalk and stared
at him.
“What was that for?”
“You’re cute when you’re mad,”
he said.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Cute?” She
didn’t want to be cute for Travis, she wanted to be seductive and
hot and impossible to ignore.
“Come on. There’s really nothing here we can’t
get from the police blotter tomorrow. The big fish is still out there,
and chances are, the police will withhold facts in hopes of ferreting
out someone higher up the crime ladder.”
Morgan’s emotions were on a roller coaster ride
and she didn’t understand how Travis could be so cool about kissing
her. A mere touch from him and she fell apart, and here he was, walking
back to his car as if nothing had happened between them. She began to
think going to work for the Chronicle might not have been the best of
ideas.
Reviews For
FANTASIES UNDERCOVER: ANYWHERE, ANYTIME, ANYWAY Book 3 by Barbara Baldwin
“Instant attraction between Travis and Morgan sets
the pages on fire with witty bantering and sizzling desires. The chemistry
they share is wonderfully written giving readers an opportunity to witness
each tender moment mixed in with all the searing hot moments…This
is one trilogy this reader would recommend... Barbara Baldwin demonstrates
time and time again why she is an author readers will want to place on
their ‘auto-buy’ list. I assure you she is on mine. 5 Angels
and a Recommended Read!”
Jessica, Fallen Angel Reviews
Absolutely wonderful! Ms. Baldwin has penned a story with
such vivid reality you feel part of the tale. Exceptional characters,
you will love Travis as he is such the typical male, and cheer Morgan
on for her strength and independence. Light and sometimes funny dialogue,
I could not help but snicker at some of Travis’s remarks. Brimming
with steady action and intrigue, these two are constantly on the go. Sensual
love scenes are woven in to all of this, creating a exciting and entertaining
read, you will not want to put down. An absolute delight.
4 cups, Wateena, Reviewer for Coffee Time Romance
Barbara J. Baldwin hits the ground running with a hot
sexy read ….The trials and tribulations of Morgan and Travis are
humorous, fun-filled, and also exhibit a raw and sensual side of the delightfully
strong and sexy characters. …Barbara Baldwin has filled the book
with excitement, mystery, romance, and tension thick enough to cut with
a knife. This is a fast read that you will not be able to put down. It
is romantic suspense at its best…a good murder mystery mixed up
with a hot steamy romance.
Reviewed by Rose for Romance at Heart
Looking for a sexy hero, a feisty heroine and a mystery
of a story that baffles and endangers them both? … Ms. Baldwin has
another winner with FANTASIES UNDERCOVER. The dialogue is snappy and at
times amusing enough to have this reader on the floor in laughter, especially
when all of the McVicker brothers get together. And there is that thread
of tension that waxes and wanes yet never fades. This reviewer recommends
FANTASIES UNDERCOVER to any reader who enjoys romantic suspense and contemporary
romances with a twist.
Reviewed by Shaiha for Loves Romances
Travis and Morgan are a great pair. I loved their verbal
sparring, and the way both handled each other. Ms. Baldwin crafts believable
characters and a mystery that will keep you guessing until the very end.
The romance and action work well together, keeping the story moving along
at a quick pace. I also liked the fact that even though this is part of
a series, the book stood on its own. I didn’t feel as if I was missing
anything, but now I do want to read the other books.
Reviewed by Astraea for Enchanted Ramblings
Fantasies Undercover is just as action-packed as Fantasy
Road and as fun to read. It was entertaining to watch Travis try to pick-up
on Morgan’s subtle clues on how to proceed in their relationship.
Reviewed by Kerin for Euro Reviews
Barbara J. Baldwin hits the ground running with a hot
sexy read called ANYWHERE, ANYTIME, ANYWAY BOOK 3: Fantasies Undercover
from Whiskey Creek Press. The trials and tribulations of Morgan and Travis
are humorous, fun-filled, and also exhibit a raw and sensual side of the
delightfully strong and sexy characters...For these two intrepid reporters,
there is danger lurking around every corner, but the biggest surprise
may just be the love they find together. Barbara Baldwin has filled the
book with excitement, mystery, romance, and tension thick enough to cut
with a knife. This is a fast read that you will not be able to put down.
It is romantic suspense at its best. Well developed characters and plot
make Fantasies Undercover a must read for all those who enjoy a good murder
mystery mixed up with a hot steamy romance. Look for Fantasies Undercover
soon at Whiskey Creek Press, then sit back and enjoy the read.
Euro reviews
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