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Blurb:
He
hates the corporate world.
She's all
business.
Now they have to work together
on the one job that could
make or
break them both...
Connor became a flight medic
for one reason, and
one reason only.
To help
people.
If he can keep his head down
and his past in the past while he's at it?
Even better.
Until Harlow appears to upend his world
with an offer he can't refuse.
She's calculating.
Composed.
Scalpel-sharp.
And she'll stop
at nothing to make
her father's business successful.
Even if that means teaming up with Connor
to turn around a failing clinic.
He shouldn't like her.
He definitely shouldn't want her.
But the more they work together
the less
he's able to resist.
But Connor's secrets run deep.
Will Harlow's ambition ruin him,
or will
she be his salvation?
From USA
Today best-seller Kimberly Kincaid comes an enemies-to-lovers story full of
emotion and heat. This full-length romance features a muscle-bound veteran
flight medic and a smart, tart female CEO finding happily ever after...the hard
way.
⭐️⭐️
PREORDER BONUS CONTENT SPECIAL ⭐️⭐️
Because this was so popular with the last
book, I'm going to do it again! Everyone who preorders BETWEEN ME & YOU and
signs up with this form will get a bonus scene via email!
✅
Please note: I can't double check this for you later, to see if you signed up
or to make sure you typed your email address in properly, so please make sure
you keep track of that and double check your sign-ups before clicking submit!
✅
Bonus material will NOT be available to anyone else--ONLY preorder people--and
it won’t be released at any time in 2019, or possibly beyond. I try really hard
to keep exclusive stuff, well...exclusive. So, if you want it? Sign up now! You
may not get another chance to get this scene (DIFFERENT than the last bonus
scene!)
Who's ready for Connor and Harlow?!
Previous
books in the series (books one and two stand alone, but book 3 contains some
series spoilers, so all are best read in order!)
Excerpt
(not PG-13):
Connor hadn’t even made it more than a few
steps over the threshold of the clinic before he’d run into a crush of people
in various states of injury or illness. Most of the waiting room chairs were
occupied, and after getting one woman an ice pack she should’ve received when
she’d been triaged and sending a badly bleeding teenager directly to the ED to
get the gash in his arm tended to by a surgeon, Connor finally moved past the
intake desk and headed to the office in the back of the building.
The door was shut, but the blinds on the
window beside it weren’t, allowing him to see inside. Harlow sat primly behind
the sleek, walnut desk, a pair of red-framed glasses perched on the bridge of
her nose as she pored over something on the laptop screen in front of her.
Her chin was tilted slightly downward, her
gaze focused and serious, and for one bright, impulsive instant, Connor
wondered what she looked like when she laughed. With her hair all mussed from
sleep. When she was caught up in a moment of pure, hot pleasure, and Jesus H.
Christ on a Pop-Tart, was he insane? Of all the times to think with his dick,
now was probably the most inopportune. He needed to be completely on guard
around this woman, not get all gee-I-wonder about what she looked like halfway to
orgasm.
Damn, he’d bet she was really fucking pretty
when she laughed, though.
Clearing his throat, Connor forced his spine
to full attention and his cock to stand down, then placed a sharp trio of
knocks on the door in front of him. Harlow’s ice-blue eyes widened as she
looked up from her desk, but only by a fraction, and by the time she’d waved
him over the threshold, any traces of surprise had disappeared as if they’d
never existed.
“Mr. Bradshaw,” she said, and oh yeah, no.
They had to nip that in the bud right freaking now.
“No mister,” he corrected. Guard up. “It’s not
really my thing.”
Harlow nodded. “Lieutenant, then.”
Oh, the shit Declan and the rest of the guys
in his unit would give him for that would last days on end. “No lieutenant,
either.” Connor shook his head. “Retired military personnel don’t usually go by
their rank. It’s kind of considered bad form.”
“I apologize.” Her voice softened by the
smallest degree. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
“None taken. Connor is fine.”
Just like that, Harlow’s all-business demeanor
settled right back into place. “But what will you have the staff call you,
then?”
Connor blinked. “Well, my first name has
worked up ’til now with everyone in the ICU and ED. I don’t really see a reason
to change that,” he said. In fact, he hadn’t even given it a thought.
“You want everyone to call you by your first
name,” Harlow said slowly, as if he’d just suggested the earth was flat and
they should all go cannonballing over the edge. “The medical staff, the
patients. The members of the board?”
He bit back the temptation to tell her he
didn’t want to be anything-Bradshaw, especially with the members of the board.
He wasn’t some uptight VP who needed to lord his power over other people.
“Sure. Why not?”
If the look on Harlow’s face was anything to
go by, the answer to Connor’s question was about to arrive adamantly and in
list form. “Well, for one, you’re a director now.”
“It’s just a title, like mister or
lieutenant,” Connor argued. He knew he should at least try to keep the heat in
his veins away from his voice—if he made a big deal about his name, her radar
would surely start to ping, full-bore. But come on. Was she seriously trying to
tell him how to have his own staff address him? “What people call me isn’t
going to affect how I do the job.”
“The title still matters,” she replied. That
she’d controlled her words with near-surgical precision didn’t make them any
less of an argument. She gestured to the hallway over his shoulder, leading out
to the clinic beyond. “All those physician’s assistants and nurses and staff
members out there? You’re their boss now.”
Oh, here
we fucking go. “So? That doesn’t make me better than
they are.”
Harlow surprised him by conceding. Sort of.
“No, it doesn’t. But you’re still in a position of power. Business hierarchies
exist for a reason, and titles are part of that. How your staff perceives you
is going to have a direct impact on your ability to manage them.”
Finally, one (and only one) thing on which
they could agree. “I know I’m kind of new to this side of things, but I
promise, my ability to manage the staff will be just fine. And since they are
mine to manage as the director of ops”—he made sure his tone turned it into
enough of a riiiiight? to make it a
point and not flat-out provocation before adding—“Connor it is."
He gestured to the center of the scrubs he
purposely hadn’t changed out of, and after a beat, Harlow sat back against her
office chair
“Suit yourself, I suppose. At any rate, I
didn’t expect to see you down here so soon.”
“What can I say?” Connor shrugged amiably.
“I’m full of surprises.”
“That
is an understatement.”
About
Kimberly:
Kimberly Kincaid writes contemporary romance
that splits the difference between sexy and sweet and hot and edgy romantic
suspense. When she’s not sitting cross-legged in an ancient desk chair known as
“The Pleather Bomber”, she can be found practicing obscene amounts of yoga,
whipping up anything from enchiladas to éclairs in her kitchen, or curled up
with her nose in a book. Kimberly is a USA Today best-selling author and a 2016
and 2015 RWA RITA® finalist and 2014 Bookseller’s Best nominee who lives (and
writes!) by the mantra that food is love. Kimberly resides in Virginia with her
wildly patient husband and their three daughters.
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