Bared to You by Sylvia Day
Slicker and more professional than 50 SOG, but I couldn’t stand Sylvia’s style: it was like an elongated chalk-squeak on a blackboard. I know this is popular fiction, not Booker Prize short-list material, but boy is it toe-curlingly bad. And honestly: has it become a convention of this sort of guff that the heroine has to fall on her bum to meet the gorgeous hunk of a billionaire, be it Gideon (bible) Cross or Christian (cover-coloured-tastefully) Grey? So what’s with the New Testament motif, anyway?
After picking Eva up from sprawling flat on her ‘ass’, Gideon asks if she’s all right.
His voice was cultured and smooth, with a rasp that made my stomach flutter. It brought sex to mind. Extraordinary sex. I thought for a moment that he might be able to make me orgasm just by talking long enough.
Well, poor chap, I instantly recognised what he had to put up with. I’ve often had to curtail my speech length and its fruity delivery, precisely because it does seem to have this effect on women. I mean, one can’t go making members of the fair sex have orgasms all over the shop simply because of a tendency to rabbit on, can one? And one has to watch that stomach-fluttering rasp, too.
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