Review: Lion in Wait
by Cynthia Sax
Cynthia Sax’ books just keep getting better and better. With LION IN WAIT you get the very alpha Royce Leone a workaholic who mistakes Starr for a woman believed to have been hired for his birthday. After having a night with her that he is unable to forget, he discovers that she was applying for the personal assistant he needed.
Starr cannot forget the night she spent with Royce either. Both claim that neither have the time for a relationship but somethings cannot be denied.
LION IN WAIT will make readers smile watching Royce fight his inner lion to claim his mate. Readers may also find the need for a cold shower and perhaps spend sometime in the North Pole to cool off. My only wish and yes I know I am greedy is that I would have loved more. 🙂 I loved LION IN WAIT and I certainly hope that Royce’s brothers meet their own mate. hint hint.
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Land this job and you can quit the other three. Starr twitched the flirty red skirt of her Bavarian waitress outfit, wishing she could have changed at the restaurant. Her boss was a tight ass about staying in costume around the customers. You can do this.
She opened the stained glass doors of the sprawling Victorian manor house and walked into the offices of Leone Media — one of the top marketing firms in the city. The heels of her double strap shoes tapped too loudly on the polished hardwood, the clatter announcing her presence.
Not yet! Starr frantically scanned the space, searching for the restroom, a place to change before —
“Finally, you’re here.”
Oh, shit. Starr forced a smile as a stunningly gorgeous woman sprang to her feet, her black designer suit clinging to her size nothing body. Every inch of her, from her finely manicured fingers to her stylish black heels, screamed elegance and refinement, everything that Starr wasn’t.
I’m outclassed and late. Starr glanced at her serviceable watch. No, not late. She frowned. “The appointment was for eight o’clock. Mr. Leone said his brother would be working late.”
“Royce always works late, but what Tanner failed to realize is I’d have to be here to greet you.” The woman hustled around the reception desk, her movements smooth and graceful. “He never thinks of me.” She rolled her brilliant green eyes. “Come.” She grabbed Starr’s arm. “I’ll put you in the library.”
Starr didn’t move. “Is there somewhere I can change?” She shifted the tote slung over her shoulder, her suit folded neatly inside the bag. “I came straight from work.”
“Yes, I can see that.” The receptionist eyed her, her lips twitching. “We don’t have time. I need to be somewhere in five minutes, and it doesn’t matter. Royce has chewed up and spat out the last eleven extremely qualified applicants.” She traipsed along the surprisingly wide hallway, her heels obscenely high.
And I’m not extremely qualified. Starr followed, aware of her community college education, the best she could afford, and her plus-sized figure, not the image any hoity toity advertising firm would wish to project. She plucked at her black bodice, the double laces pulled unbearably tight.
“The younger Mr. Leone thought I’d be perfect for the position.” Please agree with him. Starr stubbornly clung to her dream of working one job.
“Tanner is an ass. I told him he was cruel to get your hopes up.” The receptionist sighed. “I’m sorry.” She wrapped her arm around Starr’s waist and gave her a squeeze. “I know what it is like to want something you can’t have.” The sympathy in her voice dashed any lingering hopes.
I came here for nothing. Starr’s shoulders slumped, weighed down by her disappointment. Should I leave now? She tilted her head, considering her options. My shift has been given to someone else. My cable was cut three months ago. I might as well stay and meet the elder brother.
“Wait here.” The woman waved at a pair of high-backed leather chairs placed in front of a fireplace, a small table nestled between them. “Royce will join you in a moment.” She rushed out, leaving Starr alone.
Starr set her tote down and settled into one of the chairs, her already short skirt pulling up, exposing an expanse of pale skin between the hem and the white stockings. Her seat had been heated by the fire, the warmth permeating her body, easing her stress.
Starr’s gaze lifted from the flickering flames. A mosaic of a lion was embedded in the stone surrounding the fireplace. The beast’s mouth opened as though roaring — its mane flowing, the image strong and masculine, befitting the library.
Starr had heard the rumors surrounding the Leone family — the stories of men changing into lions. Could those rumors be true?
She breathed in, the scent of leather and cologne and sexy man filling her nostrils, the fire warming her. Starr didn’t dismiss the idea as ludicrous, having seen the ghostly figure of the Bavarian Sausage House’s deceased owner hovering around the entrance after hours. If ghosts are real, why not beast men?
I’d work for a beast man. If it paid my mom’s hospital and funeral bills, I’d work for the devil himself.
Bookcases framed the stone fireplace, worn volumes filling the shelves, the leather-bound classics surrounding her, as familiar and as reassuring as old friends. Starr relaxed, enjoying the stillness, the precious quiet time with no one to report to, no customers to please.
And no job interview to worry about. She smiled sadly.
The door clicked behind her, the sound obscenely loud in the quiet room, and Starr raised her head, meeting a golden catlike gaze. The intriguing eyes were set in a face too rugged, too scarred to be handsome.
“M… Mr. Leone.” She struggled to her feet, her right stocking slipping down her leg. The younger brother’s manner had been light and playful, the businessman always laughing. This older brother was hardness and strength, his expression gravely serious.
Mr. Leone glanced at the crisp white paper in his big right hand. “Starr.” His lips twisted. “I should have known by the name.” He crumpled up her resume and tossed it into the fire. “I guess we don’t need this.”
The paper, representing her chance for a better life, burned. “I guess we don’t.” She lifted her chin, hiding her disappointment, grateful for the receptionist’s warning. I’ve been chewed up and spat out, as she predicted.
Mr. Leone prowled around Starr, moving silently, sensuously, his black suit fitting him like a second skin, his shoulders broad, his hips lean. Starr stayed still, resisting the urge to turn with him, feeling like prey for a very large predator.
He leaned closer and sniffed, his nostrils flaring. “You smell delicious.”