Read Online Romance: Catching Helena Handbasket by Lily Flowers - Free Book Online
Authors: Lily Flowers
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his arms with a moan that bespoke her keen frustration.
“So, Boss,” she gasped out, running the back of her arm across the surface of her sweat laden forehead. “I take it that you passing enjoyed the rough draft of my first book, Pride and Passion?”
Trey thought a moment, then nodded.
“It was OK I guess,” he allowed with a shrug.
Helena froze, heat of an entirely different kind suffusing her cheeks as she considered the many hours of work she’d put into the composition of her first novel; a work that had cost her several nights of sleep and a plethora of blonde hairs pulled taut from her addled blonde head—not to mention several solid gallons of hot chocolate with cinnamon accents. Blast it, she just couldn’t work without the able aid of her hot chocolate with cinnamon accents.
“OK?” she repeated, a slight tremble overtaking her fully made frame as she balled her fists beside her. “Just OK?”
Trey cleared his throat.
“Well, maybe OK is the wrong word,” he allowed.
“Ya think?” Helena pressed, clenching her fingers and gritting her teeth until they ground audibly in the confines of her mouth.
“Yes, I think,” Trey declared with a nod. “As a matter of fact, I believe that ‘passable’ might be a better word to describe my reaction to your rough draft.”
Shutting her eyes tight, Helena very slowly counted to 10, then counted the mental images of some cute, wooly sheep for good measure.
Her defense and coping mechanisms soundly exhausted, she opened her eyes to greet her employer with a cold, hard stare.
“So do you reward all authors that submit ‘passable’ work with hot, passionate kisses?”
Trey nodded.
“Yes I do, as a matter of fact,” he revealed, adding as he arched his feathered eyebrows, “Didn’t you read that clause? It’s in your contract.”
Helena had heard enough.
“I cannot believe you,” she bellowed, folding her arms before her, “Do you have any idea how long and hard I worked on that book, Trey? Well let me tell you something…”
“You don’t need to tell me anything, Helena,” Trey interrupted her, rushing to her side to take her hands in his. “I know all about you and your incredible efforts through your writing.” He paused here, his face bursting into a full-toothed beam that nearly stilled her heart. “I have to admit I’ve been playing with you a little bit, darling. The fact is that your book is nothing short of fantastic. It’s fresh, it’s creative, it’s meaningful, it’s as sexy as hell—and, most of all, it just happens to be very, very well-written. And, with your permission, I would love to sign you on as our newest contract author at Elmhurst Publishing.”
Helena froze, tears running free down the surface of her face as she considered these words;
Words she’d dreamt of hearing all of her life.
“Well, that and, ‘Hi Helena, I’m George Clooney. Would you do me the honor of marrying me?’” she mused.
Although she had to admit that the man that now took her hand, warmly and sincerely, in his, dwarfed even The Clooney in terms of complete and utter masculine radiance; and when he enveloped her in the cocoon of a warm, sweet hug, he impressed her even more.
“You’re a fantastic author, bella,” he whispered, cuddling her close to him. “You put your head and your heart into what you write—and you’ve just managed to raise the bar for every other author in this company.”
Pulling back only slightly, Trey took Helena’s hands in his and squeezed her sturdy fingers.
“After reviewing your work, darling, I now realize what it is that makes you so special,” he told her, adding with a saucy wink, “And now that I know, I plan to enhance and intensify my
“So, Boss,” she gasped out, running the back of her arm across the surface of her sweat laden forehead. “I take it that you passing enjoyed the rough draft of my first book, Pride and Passion?”
Trey thought a moment, then nodded.
“It was OK I guess,” he allowed with a shrug.
Helena froze, heat of an entirely different kind suffusing her cheeks as she considered the many hours of work she’d put into the composition of her first novel; a work that had cost her several nights of sleep and a plethora of blonde hairs pulled taut from her addled blonde head—not to mention several solid gallons of hot chocolate with cinnamon accents. Blast it, she just couldn’t work without the able aid of her hot chocolate with cinnamon accents.
“OK?” she repeated, a slight tremble overtaking her fully made frame as she balled her fists beside her. “Just OK?”
Trey cleared his throat.
“Well, maybe OK is the wrong word,” he allowed.
“Ya think?” Helena pressed, clenching her fingers and gritting her teeth until they ground audibly in the confines of her mouth.
“Yes, I think,” Trey declared with a nod. “As a matter of fact, I believe that ‘passable’ might be a better word to describe my reaction to your rough draft.”
Shutting her eyes tight, Helena very slowly counted to 10, then counted the mental images of some cute, wooly sheep for good measure.
Her defense and coping mechanisms soundly exhausted, she opened her eyes to greet her employer with a cold, hard stare.
“So do you reward all authors that submit ‘passable’ work with hot, passionate kisses?”
Trey nodded.
“Yes I do, as a matter of fact,” he revealed, adding as he arched his feathered eyebrows, “Didn’t you read that clause? It’s in your contract.”
Helena had heard enough.
“I cannot believe you,” she bellowed, folding her arms before her, “Do you have any idea how long and hard I worked on that book, Trey? Well let me tell you something…”
“You don’t need to tell me anything, Helena,” Trey interrupted her, rushing to her side to take her hands in his. “I know all about you and your incredible efforts through your writing.” He paused here, his face bursting into a full-toothed beam that nearly stilled her heart. “I have to admit I’ve been playing with you a little bit, darling. The fact is that your book is nothing short of fantastic. It’s fresh, it’s creative, it’s meaningful, it’s as sexy as hell—and, most of all, it just happens to be very, very well-written. And, with your permission, I would love to sign you on as our newest contract author at Elmhurst Publishing.”
Helena froze, tears running free down the surface of her face as she considered these words;
Words she’d dreamt of hearing all of her life.
“Well, that and, ‘Hi Helena, I’m George Clooney. Would you do me the honor of marrying me?’” she mused.
Although she had to admit that the man that now took her hand, warmly and sincerely, in his, dwarfed even The Clooney in terms of complete and utter masculine radiance; and when he enveloped her in the cocoon of a warm, sweet hug, he impressed her even more.
“You’re a fantastic author, bella,” he whispered, cuddling her close to him. “You put your head and your heart into what you write—and you’ve just managed to raise the bar for every other author in this company.”
Pulling back only slightly, Trey took Helena’s hands in his and squeezed her sturdy fingers.
“After reviewing your work, darling, I now realize what it is that makes you so special,” he told her, adding with a saucy wink, “And now that I know, I plan to enhance and intensify my
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