Spotlight & Giveaway: Temptation At His Door by Joss Wood

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Joss Wood to HJ!

Hi Joss and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Temptation At His Door!

Hello!

Tell us about the book with this fun little challenge using the title of the book:

 
T is for, well, temptation! Obvs.
A is for attraction.
H is for high walls. Yep, they both have issues.
D is for daring. Because love can be scary.

Please share the opening lines of this book:

Joa Jones ducked under the red-and-white portico covering the impressive doors to Murphy International, thankful to get out of the snow-tinged rain. She blew into her hands, thinking she was inadequately dressed for Boston in late January.
It had been summer when she left Auckland two days ago. Left what she knew would be her last au pair contract.

Please tell us a little about the characters in your book.

Ronan’s much-loved and adored wife died giving birth to Aron, the second of his two sons, three years ago. He was blindsided by grief and in his head and heart, he’s still
married.

Joa Jones, having left her au pair job in New Zealand, wants a new start. She’s realized that, while au pairing gives her a taste of being part of a family, it’s not enough.

Should Joa be nanny to Ronan’s boys? They both think this is a terrible idea. Joa because she’s terrified to fall in love with another family who will, eventually, move on without her and Ronan because Joa is the first woman he’s been attracted to since his wife died.

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

• The heroine in the last book in my Love in Boston Series, Second Chance Temptation, Tanna Murphy is the sister of the Murphy siblings, Carrick, Ronan and Liam, who are the three heroes of my Murphy International series.
• I carry on with the art and antique references in Temptation at His Door and make a detour into Faberge jewelry.
• My pronunciation of Joa’s name is actually “Ju-ah”.
• The cover of this book is one of my favorite covers…ever. The Harlequin art department is amazing!

What first attracts your Hero to the Heroine and vice versa?

In Joa’s words…(she’s caught a glance of his face on Keely’s phone during a video call)

He looked like a fallen angel, someone who could be pretty but wasn’t, and was better looking for it. He rocked the word masculine and Joa just knew that his body would match his face. God couldn’t be that cruel to team such a sexy face with a body that wasn’t as fine. Joa was very certain he had a flat stomach, long legs and a perfect ass.

And Joa knocks Ronan’s socks off…

Keely mentioned that she was pretty but he’d never expected her beauty to whip his breath away. Keely also failed to inform him that her eyes were the color of moonlight, a pure clear silver, a color beyond description. Ronan had no doubt those eyes would change depending on her mood: would they turn to pewter, to ash gray, to smoke?
Ronan broke their stare and resisted the urge to run his hand across his face. She didn’t need to see how much she’d rocked his world, how off-kilter he felt.
But the truth was…God, she was exceptional.
The rational part of his brain made a quick list—high cheekbones, a mouth made for French kissing and black hair, long and straight and thick, tucked behind pretty little ears—but most of his brainpower was engaged in keeping himself from yanking her into his arms.
Desire, hot and foreign, flickered to life. Heat curled down his spine. Ronan swore that if he licked his finger and placed it against his skin, he would sizzle. He’d never, not even with Thandi, had such a visceral reaction to a woman before.
It made him feel a little sick and a lot sad.

The First Kiss…

“But the world is full of good-looking guys, Murphy, and I can take or leave them.”
Now that sounded like a challenge. And Ronan had never backed down from a challenge in his life.
Or was he using her challenge as an excuse?
Either way, knowing he was making a mistake, but unable to stop himself, Ronan moved swiftly to stand next to her, so close he could see the tiny sparks of lightning in her eyes, each individual eyelash and the tiny scar on her top lip. She smelled like moonbeams and mystery and Ronan knew he wouldn’t be walking away without tasting her, just once.
Lifting his hand, he brushed his thumb across her bottom lip, waiting for her to pull back. If she did, he would step away.
But Joa surprised him by placing her hand on the bare skin over his heart and when she arched her back and lifted her mouth to reach his, he took her move as the invitation it absolutely was.
Ronan’s lips touched hers and his skin sizzled in response. He felt her fingers dig into his chest, the rasp of her nails as he lost himself in the softness of her mouth. Joa sighed and her lips opened and he slid his tongue inside, groaning as he did so. She tasted of coffee and strawberry lip balm, of frustration and fierce desire. It was a combination designed to make his head swim, to cloud his thinking. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow himself to touch her with anything but his mouth. He couldn’t take the chance of losing all his control.
In a moment he’d stop kissing her, in just one more moment…
Keeping his hands fisted at his sides, Ronan kissed her for another minute, and then another, fighting his urge to pull her closer, to find out how well her lithe body would fit to his. He was so big and she was so slim but he knew they would be combustible together and that was why they had to stop…
Now. Immediately.
It still took him another minute to release her mouth, to step back. When he did, he turned away to grab the edge of the island, needing something to hang onto.
What in the hell just happened?

If your book was optioned for a movie, what scene would you use for the audition of the main characters and why?

Aishwarya Rai and Justice Joslin were my character inspirations for this book.

I love this black moment scene, there are so scared and so confused and so very stubborn.
“I think I’ve found you a nanny.”
Ronan felt like she’d punched him in the gut. He’d totally forgotten her search for a nanny. “I thought you liked my kids, that you enjoyed looking after them.”
“Ronan, I told you this was temporary. That I didn’t want to be au pair anymore.”
Well, yeah, she had said that…
“She’s really rather wonderful. She’s a grade school teacher, and the boys really like her. She lives close by…”
He didn’t want another nanny, he wanted her. “I don’t care. I want you to stay.”
Ronan knew, from a place far away, that he was botching this, that he needed to explain, but his feelings were too new, too fragile. He hadn’t had any time to work through his thoughts, to come to terms with the idea that he could be happy again, with someone else, that he could put aside his guilt and start to live again. He needed to do that, he needed time, but he also didn’t want to lose Joa. Because, God, if she left him, left this house, she might get on a plane to Bora-Bora or Brisbane, Taiwan or Tennessee. If she left, he wouldn’t be able to get her back.
“Best thing is, she can start straight away,” Joa said, ignoring his previous comment. “I’ve arranged for her to pop around tonight. You can meet her then.”
“I don’t want her, I want you!” Ronan roared.
His bellow didn’t scare Joa; she just planted her feet and kept her gaze on the wall behind him.
“Will you damn well look at me?” he shouted. He gestured to Thandi’s portrait. “I’m here, she’s not!”
Joa finally wrenched her eyes off Thandi’s portrait. “Of course she is, Ronan. She’s everywhere. In your head, in your house, in everything you do, every decision you make.”
Joa held up her hand and tossed her head, blinking back tears. “It’s okay, Ronan. It really is. I get it, she was the love of your life, the mother of your kids. I can’t compete with that. I don’t want to compete with her.”
Ronan wanted to tell her that he loved them differently—he loved Joa? Jesus, did he? Maybe…
Man, this was all too much, too soon. He felt like he was being emotionally sideswiped from all angles.
“Let’s not make this more difficult and emotional than it needs to be, Ro. Let’s keep this simple, okay?”
Simple sounded good. It really did. Simple was him living his life as a widower, alone. Raising his boys, working, his life uncomplicated by a silver-eyed goddess who made his blood sing. He liked simple. Simple made sense.
But simple was also boring, unimaginative, lonely…
“I know that Tanna is taking the boys to spend the weekend at the Lockwood estate. They’ve been invited to Darby’s stepdaughter’s birthday party.”
Ronan rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers, trying to think. Yeah, that sounded right. God, he was so tired. He felt like he could sleep for a week…
He’d forgotten how exhausting emotions could be.
Joa pushed her hands into the pockets of her coat. “I’ve booked a flight to go to Miami, to spend the weekend with Keely. There’s so much we need to discuss with regard to the foundation, including a very impressive résumé we received today. The applicant might be perfect for the CEO job.”
No, that job was Joa’s. Nobody was better suited to running Isabel’s foundation than the resilient, amazing girl turned woman whom Isabel had rescued all those years ago. Ronan wanted to tell her that, insist that she fight for the job, but he couldn’t form the words because there were so many others on his tongue.
Don’t go.
Don’t leave.
I think I’m falling in love with you…
Joa sucked in a breath, emotions he couldn’t identify tumbling through her eyes and across her face. “Interview Abigail tonight and if you like her, why don’t we all go out to dinner on Sunday night? You, the kids, Abigail and me. We can tell them that Abigail will be their new nanny. And I can say goodbye.”
The thought of her leaving them—him—forced his brain to kick into gear and form some words. “You’re leaving? Where are you going?”
Joa shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I’ll see. But I think it’s best if I leave Boston, put some distance between me and my memories of Iz.”
Put some distance between you and me. Ronan heard the words as clearly as if she’d spoken them.
“Are you really leaving me?” Ronan asked, feeling like she’d reached into his heart and yanking it out of his chest. Joa swallowed, closed her eyes and nodded. Her “yeah” was small but still audible.
“Did you hear me when I said that I want you?” Ronan asked, his voice cracking.
Joa placed her hand on his heart, a touch that briefly cut through the cold fog enveloping him. “I know you want me, Ro, that was never the problem. But what I want the most belongs to someone else and I’m not going to fight her for it.”
Joa turned away and Ronan watched her walk up the stairs, feeling overwhelmed, a little pissed and totally at sea. He started to go after her, suddenly terrified by the thought of her not returning. What would he do? How would he cope? Oh, this had nothing to do with her looking after the boys, and everything to do with where he wanted her in his life…

If your hero had a sexy-times play list, what song(s) would have to be on it?

• I’m On Fire- Bruce Springsteen
• Raspberry Beret – Prince
• Brown Eyed Girl- Van Morrison
• Need You Tonight – INXS
• Your Body Is a Wonderland- John Mayer
• Nobody But You- Blake Shelton/Gwen Stefani

If you could have given your characters one piece of advice before the opening pages of the book, what – would it be and why?

Life is short, dammit!
And to love is a risk and it requires you to be brave.

What are you currently working on? What are your up-coming releases?*

Ah, I’m currently working on a book for Harlequin Presents and I’m going back to my bush-baby roots by setting it in a six-star safari lodge in Southern Africa. #soexcited

The third book in my Murphy International series, Back in His Ex’s Bed, featuring Finn Murphy, will be released in June 2020.
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: I’m giving away five ebook copies of Temptation At His Door. Hope you win!

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: I’m always looking for character inspiration: Who is, in your mind, is the ultimate hero and heroine?

 
a Rafflecopter giveaway

 
 

Excerpt from Temptation At His Door:

Joa heard the slam of the front door and the ping of Ronan’s keys hitting the ceramic plate on the hall table. Sitting on the multicolored Persian carpet in the great room, she looked up as his big frame blocked out the light coming from the delicate French-inspired chandelier hanging in the double-volume hallway.
Being tall, he was natural clotheshorse and she approved of his outfit of dark jeans, a checked brown-and-blue shirt worn under a flecked cream sweater, topped off by a well-worn but obviously expensive leather bomber jacket.
What she didn’t approve of was the fact that he was dating.
Ronan Murphy was still in love with his wife and men who were still head over heels for their dead wives didn’t date. Or shouldn’t date.
Then again, neither should they have hot sex on the sofa.
Joa pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and looked up at him as he shrugged out of his jacket, throwing it onto the back of the nearest chair.
“You’re home early,” she commented, pulling her finger off the paper plate in her hand. She had glue everywhere, on her fingers, on her loose-fitting flannel pants, in her hair. “How was dinner?”
“Interminable,” Ronan replied, resting his hand on the back of the sofa opposite her. He looked at the mess on his floor—paints, glue, colored paper and markers scattered across the carpet—and frowned. “What are you doing?”
Ah, she’d been waiting for him to ask. “Do you recall hearing anything about the boys needing animal masks for Zoo Day?”
“What the hell is Zoo Day?”
“It’s been in their communication book, on and off, for about a month now.”
“Uh, I tend to forget to check that.”
She’d realized that. “And because you didn’t, I was reminded by them both, just after supper, that they needed masks. Aron demanded a chimpanzee mask and Sam, a tiger.”
Ronan pulled a face. “I could just go and buy them one.”
Joa shook her head. “That’s not the way it works. It has to be homemade and the kids should’ve helped to make it.”
Ronan sat down on the edge of the sofa and rested his forearms on his knees. “Dammit, sorry.” He looked at the mess and picked up a paper plate she’d painted with orange, white and black stripes.
Ronan pointed to the mess surrounding her. “Do you need some help?”
Well, yes. Or she’d be here until dawn. Not giving Ronan time to rescind his offer, she handed him a piece of paper and a pair of scissors. It was the template for Aron’s monkey mask. “Cut this out.”
Ronan took the paper and scissors and without saying another word, began to cut. Joa glanced at the expensive watch on Ronan’s strong wrist, surprised to see that it was only nine thirty. She wasn’t going to ask why he was home so early; who he dated and what he did had nothing to do with her. They’d just had a one-night stand and it would never be repeated…
“That was a quick date.”
Inquisitive much, Joa?
Ronan didn’t lift his eyes off his task. “Yeah. We ended it earlier than expected.”
“Oh.”
Oh was good, oh was noncommittal. Oh wasn’t nosy. Good job, Joa.
“Why did it end earlier than expected?”
Bad job, Joa.
Ronan’s lovely eyes slammed into hers. “She was as boring as hell.”
Joa winced, partly in sympathy for the unknown woman, partly because she wondered if he found Joa equally boring. After all, she was sitting in PJ pants and a tank top, bare feet, cross-legged on his carpet, making a kid’s mask. Sophisticated she was not.
“She wouldn’t stop talking about kids, hers and mine.” Ronan rested the paper plate on his knee and pushed an agitated hand through his thick hair. He had lovely hair, nut-brown and glossy, with a wave to it that wouldn’t be tamed. “I love the monsters, but I could’ve done with talking about something else, anything else.”
“Art?’ Joa teased him.
“Sure. Baseball, climate change, books, history…”
“Ancient or modern?”
“More modern than ancient, although I am partial to those bloodthirsty Vikings and randy Romans.”
Joa smiled. “I’ve always been fascinated by the Russian Revolution.”
Ronan resumed his task of cutting out the monkey face and Joa resisted the urge to rip it out of his hand and get it done. She didn’t need perfection, just a rough outline. “Speed it up, Murphy, I don’t want to be doing this all night.”
“Bossy as well as beautiful,” Ronan murmured. Joa felt her face heat and slowly raised her eyes to look at him, both frustrated and relieved when he kept his eyes on directing the scissors around the monkey’s ear. Dammit, he shouldn’t say things like that, sexy things.
Things they made her remember the feel of his hard muscles under her hands, the crisp hair on his chest, the rougher hair on his…
For crying in a rusty bucket, Jones! Get your mind out of the bedroom…
“What got you interested in the Russians and their revolution?”
“Don’t all little girls want to be princesses?” Joa blithely replied.
“That family didn’t come to a gracious end.”
“Sure, but their lives, before the revolution, were amazing. To a kid who grew up hard, they lived a fairy tale. Well, up until they were shot.”
Ronan cocked his head to the side, all his attention on her. “You grew up hard?”
Dammit, how had she let that slip? She never, ever, not even with Keely, spoke about her past. What was the point of telling people that she was put into the foster system through sheer neglect, that she had no idea whether her druggie, far-too-young mother was alive or dead, that she’d been relying on herself for, well, all of her life? She loathed pity and she’d learned that sympathy didn’t change a damn thing…
Her past was over, she was no longer a child and she didn’t want to think about it anymore.
“I grew up,” Joa replied, her voice tight.
“Where are your parents? Do you have siblings?” Ronan asked.
Joa tensed. “I grew up in the foster system,” she reluctantly admitted, hoping he didn’t press her for more information.
Ronan’s expression held empathy but no pity. Thank God. “You don’t like talking about your past, do you?”
“Do you?” Joa countered. “You lost your parents when you were young. Do you like talking about them?”
“I don’t mind, actually. My parents were great, and it was a long time ago.”
Good for him. Joa wanted to know more about them, but if she pried into his past, that would give him the excuse to pry into hers. Not happening.
Needing to change the subject, she returned to the subject of the Romanovs. “I’m not good at art and furniture but I have read quite a few books about Carl Fabergé.” The imperial jeweler was an incredible goldsmith and produced some amazing works in gold and jewels. “He was so talented.”
“That he was,” Ronan agreed. “My father sold a Fabergé egg once.”
“Really?”
Ronan looked at his monkey mask and handed it over. Joa handed it straight back. “Cut out the eyes, the mouth and the nose.”
Ronan pulled a face and picked up the scissors again.
“What egg was it?” Joa asked.
“The Bay Tree egg. Nephrite leaves, white enamel flowers, diamonds, rubies, pearls. Lots and lots of diamonds. The surprise is a feathered bird that appears, flaps its wings and sings.”
“Did you see it?” Joa asked, fascinated.
“It was before my time.” Ronan looked regretful. “I saw photos of it.”
“Wow. How does it feel to have had all these wonderful treasures pass through your hands?”
“Privileged, I guess, is the best word. Blessed.”
Joa turned her head to the right and looked at the framed photograph of Thandi and her boys. “Do you see Sam and Aron going into the business, as well?”
“Carrick, Finn and I discussed this, just the other day, actually. We were talking about Carrick’s baby and we agreed that if our kids want to join the business, if they are passionate about what we do, then we’ll let them, agreeing that they would start at the bottom and work their way up. Kind of like we did. Well, not Carrick, but only because he was the oldest and someone had to jump right in when our parents died, but Finn and I had to prove our worth. But if our kids want to become lawyers or doctors or pilots, that’s their choice.”
Joa thought back to earlier when she’d caught Aron climbing up the double-door fridge to get into the snack cupboard. “I think Aron might become a stuntman.”
“I think he might end up in jail,” Ronan muttered. “He’s his uncle all over again. Always chasing the next thrill, the next challenge.”
“Carrick or Finn?”
“Finn.” Ronan slid off the sofa to sit on the carpet, stretching his long legs and leaning back against the sofa. “Finn is going ice climbing!”
“Like waterfalls and stuff?”
“Yeah, that. Have you ever heard of anything that crazy?” Ronan demanded, looking completely irritated.
“Base jumping? Spelunking?”
Ronan reached over and tugged the strand of hair that had fallen out of her messy knot. “Don’t be facetious. And he’s done both.”
Joa attached the last strand of wire on to the plate—whiskers for the tiger—and looked at her creation. It would have to do. “Why are you so against Finn ice climbing?”
“It’s dangerous.”
“So is driving a car or flying an airplane or riding a motorbike,” Joa pointed out, dipping her paintbrush into gray paint to color Aron’s mask.
“Our friend Levi just broke his leg dirt bike riding,” Ronan stated.
“Accidents happen.” Joa shrugged. “And it is his life.”
Ronan stared down at Sam’s mask, his fingers tightening on the paper plate. “I can’t lose anyone else. It would kill me, Ju.”
“Is that why you don’t date, why you refuse to look for love again?” Joa quietly asked.
“Yeah, it’s a big part of it.”
“What’s the rest of it?” Joa asked, her hand shaky as she painted the mask.
“I’m still in love with my wife.”
That wasn’t news. Joa forced herself to look up into his eyes and was startled at the maelstrom of pain, confusion and irritation she saw in those deep green-blue depths.
Joa wanted to hug all his pain away. She felt herself leaning into him and then remembered she wasn’t doing this again, she wasn’t going to fall into his life and pretend it was hers.
It wasn’t and it never could be.
“Learning to live again is hard, Ju.”
Joa couldn’t resist. She turned, rested her forehead on his shoulder and placed her hand on his hard thigh. The muscles under her palm flexed, tightened, but she didn’t react.
What could she say? She was the very last person in the world qualified to give advice.

Excerpts. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

Wealthy art auctioneer Ronan Murphy needs a nanny for his two little boys now. Gorgeous au pair Joa Jones would be perfect, but there’s a catch. He and Joa also have impossible-to-ignore chemistry. One night exploring that chemistry can’t hurt…right? Wrong. One night with Joa only leaves Ronan craving more. But more is the one thing he can’t have…
Book Links: Amazon | B& N | iTunes | Google |
 
 

Meet the Author:

Joss Wood loves books and traveling—especially to the wild places of
southern Africa and, well, anywhere. She’s a wife, a mom to two teenagers
and slave to two cats and a puppy the size of a small cow. After a career in local economic development, she now writes full-time. Joss is a member of Romance Writers of America
and Romance Writers of South Africa.
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