Focus Book Tour - Sam

Enemies to Lovers Billionaire Romance 

​Professional photographer Dana Secrest has a secret and doesn’t even know it. When she storms from her best friend’s home on Christmas Eve—not the wisest decision she’s ever made—security contractor Sam Galdicar follows her to save her from her own hot temper and impulsive action. Upon arriving home, Dana discovers her apartment has been ransacked. Then an attempt is made on her life. She doesn’t know who’s trying to kill her or why, but Sam is determined to protect the woman whose eyes don’t need a camera to see the truth. ​

Buy Today at
https://www.amazon.com/FOCUS-Holly-Bargo-ebook/dp/B086JCWCZT/

https://www.silverdaggertours.com/sdsxx-tours/focus-book-tour-and-giveaway

Excerpt - Chapter 2 - Sam 

​Speaking of kissing … 

Dana slumped in the tub, leaning her forehead on her knees as I continued to lather and rinse the softest, silkiest skin my hands had ever touched. She sniffled, but at least those gut-wrenching sobs had ceased. She truly cared for her friend’s well being. 

“Do you think you can stand?” I asked, my voice husky with ruthlessly restrained lust. 

She sighed and nodded. 

“Let me help you.” 

She allowed me to take her hands and raise her to her feet. I put her wet hands on my shoulders to give her something to cling to while I pulled a towel off the towel bar and wrapped it around her. Without waiting for her to lift her leg, I swept her into my arms and lifted her from the tub. She gasped in surprise, but did not protest. She had apparently learned the futility of that. 

I carried her into the bedroom and set her on the edge of the bed. “Stay put, Dana.” 

She sniffed, but stayed while I took out an old tee shirt from a drawer and plucked a comb from atop the bureau. The rustling of cloth told me she’d taken the initiative to dry off her body. Pity. I’d hoped to do that. I turned around and she held the towel up to hide her exquisite body from my gaze as though I hadn’t already seen and touched everything. 

I handed her the shirt, “Here, put this on.” 

She clamped the towel to her chest with one arm and reached with the other to take the shirt. “Turn around, Sam.”
I stood there and grinned, enjoying her discomfiture. It wasn’t nice of me. 

“Please,” she whispered. 

I turned my back to her and wished I’d thought to install a mirror above the bureau. 

“Okay,” she said in a dull voice when she was ready. 

I turned around and felt a possessive sort of satisfaction at seeing her wearing nothing but my shirt, clothed in only what I gave her. But her dull expression issued no invitation. 

“You’ll sleep here tonight,” I said. 

Her hazel eyes narrowed with suspicion. “And where will you sleep?”