Playing to Win (The Complete Series Box Set): 3 romances with angst and humor Read online

  Table of Contents

  Book Description

  EPILOGUE

  Book Description

  Prologue

  Epilogue

  Book Description

  Part I

  Part II

  Epilogue

  Part I

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Part II

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Playing to Win

  The Complete Series Box Set

  Alix Nichols

  Contents

  Sexy Sneak Peek

  Books by Alix Nichols

  Foreword

  PLAYING WITH FIRE

  Book Description

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  EPILOGUE

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  PLAYING FOR KEEPS

  Book Description

  Prologue

  1. Lucas

  2. Isabelle

  3. Lucas

  4. Isabelle

  5. Lucas

  6. Isabelle

  7. Lucas

  8. Isabelle

  9. Lucas

  10. Isabelle

  11. Lucas

  12. Isabelle

  13. Lucas

  Epilogue

  PLAYING DIRTY

  Book Description

  Part I

  1. Julien

  2. Noemi

  3. Julien

  4. Noemi

  5. Julien

  6. Noemi

  7. Julien

  8. Noemi

  Part II

  9. Julien

  10. Noemi

  11. Julien

  12. Noemi

  13. Julien

  14. Noemi

  15. Julien

  Epilogue

  BONUS NOVELLA

  Winter’s Gift

  I. Anton

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  II. Anna

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Sexy Sneak Peek

  From “Playing with Fire” (Playing to Win, Book 1)

  Uma snatches the chocolate from the box and darts out the door into the garden. I drop the box and run after her.

  She shoves the chocolate in her mouth.

  “Cheater!” I narrow my eyes in what I hope is an intimidating glare. “You’re going to pay for this.”

  She bolts, trying to get back into the house.

  I block her way, towering over her. Uma retreats, turns around, and runs to the other end of the garden. I follow, hot on her heels. She doesn’t shriek, no doubt, so she won’t wake up Sam, whose window is open above us.

  For two or three minutes, I chase Uma around the garden in silence. I’m faster, but she’s nimbler. Besides, I’ve no clue how I’m going to make her “pay” for her theft, so I’m not really putting my heart and soul into the pursuit. On our third round, Uma ducks under my arm and hightails it into the house, across the kitchen, and toward the stairs.

  She’s hoping to make it to her bedroom and lock herself in.

  Not happening.

  Accelerating, I close the distance between us. She scrambles up the steps. I grab her shoulders from behind, putting an end to her delusion that she can outrun me. Giggling, she tries to break free. I wrap my arms around her to hold her. She stops thrashing. I pull her into me, tightening my hold. She stops laughing.

  For a few moments, neither of us moves or makes a sound, pressed against each other, panting.

  Her chest heaves underneath my forearms.

  I press them lightly against her little breasts, her nipples…

  My heart throbs in my ears.

  A caveman’s impulse to sling her over my shoulder and carry her somewhere private where I can have my way with her surges up somewhere in my gut, both shocking and tantalizing me. To resist it, I plant my feet firmly into the step and refuse to move a single muscle in my body.

  With Uma one step higher on the staircase, her nape is perniciously close to my face, making my struggle harder than it already is. Her silky black hair is gathered into her usual bun that’s gotten messy from all the running.

  I stare at her delicate neck.

  Want to kiss it.

  Dying to kiss it.

  Can’t.

  Because… reasons… good reasons… if I could just recall them.

  There!

  She’s Sam’s nanny.

  That’s good, but not good enough…

  She’s my friend’s almost fiancée.

  Sort of.

  Anyway, she’s inexperienced and clearly not thinking straight right now.

  Very good.

  I relax my embrace enough for her to duck and slip away.

  Only she doesn’t do it.

  Instead, she leans back into me.

  Books by Alix Nichols

  The Darcy Brothers

  Find You in Paris

  Raphael’s Fling

  The Perfect Catch

  Clarissa and the Cowboy

  Playing to Win

  Playing with Fire

  Playing for Keeps

  Playing Dirty

  La Bohème

  Winter’s Gift

  What If It’s Love?

  Falling for Emma

  Under My Skin

  Amanda’s Guide to Love

  Copyright © 2018 Alix Nichols

  All Rights Reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons is purely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or otherwise, without written permission from the author.

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  In your welcome newsletter, you will find an exclusive bundle with two sexy rom-com standalones:

  You’re the One and The Devil’s Own Chloe.

  Foreword

  Thank you for picking up the complete PLAYING TO WIN series box set!

  ➜ 3 hunky French athletes.

  ➜ 3 passionate women who fall under their spell.

  ➜ 3 hot and tender love stories.

  This contemporary romances included in this box set are:

  Playing with Fire

  Playing for Keeps

  Playing Dirty

  BOOK 1: PLAYING WITH FIRE />
  Embroiderer Uma is all kinds of wrong for single dad Zach.

  She’s his son’s nanny, still chaste at 23... and falling for him, hard and fast.

  In short, she’s completely off-limits.

  And just as completely irresistible.

  BOOK 2: PLAYING FOR KEEPS

  Ex-player Isabelle takes a job as a publicist for a Paris water-polo team.

  That means she must face amnesiac coach Lucas, the jerk who broke her heart six years ago.

  But Lucas is a brand-new man after his head trauma.

  He has no idea why Isabelle is avoiding him — or why he is so drawn to her.

  BOOK 3: PLAYING DIRTY

  In his pimply teens, Julien was led on, played and publicly humiliated by Noemi.

  Now a heartthrob and a sports star, he craves revenge.

  Even as he still craves Noemi.

  If you like single dad romances, revenge plots filled with angst and passion, and heartwarming second chance novels, you’ll love the PLAYING TO WIN series!

  PLAYING WITH FIRE

  Playing to Win, Book 1

  Book Description

  Playing with Fire - a Single Dad Romance

  He was supposed to look out for her, not kiss her senseless.

  Au pair Uma is all kinds of wrong for single dad Zach.

  She is his son's nanny, a twenty-three-year-old Hindu virgin, and a guileless ingenue to boot.

  Zach knows all of that.

  Then why can't he rein in his lust for her?

  If there is one man Uma should not be attracted to, it's the father of the adorable five-year-old in her charge.

  Once burned twice shy, Zach is the captain of a Paris water polo team and a wealthy entrepreneur who can have any woman he wants. No strings attached.

  Small wonder he goes all out to shun Uma!

  But when, with the help of a bottle of fine wine, Zach confesses all the dirty things he'd like to do to her, Uma astounds him by saying she wants that, too.

  What's a man to do but oblige?

  Besides, it's not like it's the end of the world. They're both sensible, level-headed adults. They'll just have a bit of fun and then go back to normal, as if nothing happened.

  As if feelings weren't already getting in the way.

  ONE

  Zach

  I spot Uma haggling over cherries at the fruit stall.

  Her delicate frame is clad in her usual jeans and T-shirt, and her smooth black hair is pulled into a bun pierced by a pencil to hold it together. Clutching Sam’s little hand, she sports an expression that conveys, “Don’t mess with me—I’m tougher than I look.” She always uses it when she’s determined to have her way.

  Right now, I’d say she’s bent on negotiating a better price for those juicy cherries.

  I smile.

  I’ve told her I’m happy to pay the asking price for quality produce. I can afford it. I’ve also told her haggling isn’t common in French markets. The price announced by vendors is what they expect to fetch for their products, not what they expect to fetch, plus twenty percent.

  But old habits die hard.

  In Uma’s case, she’d overseen grocery shopping for her family in Nepal since she was ten, which means thirteen years of honing her bargaining skills. She isn’t ready to put them on ice just yet.

  By the time I reach the stall, the transaction is over. Uma drops a paper bag of cherries into her shopping cart, and the vendor turns to the next person in line.

  “Papa!” Sam cries out, noticing me.

  I pick him up. “Hey, buddy.”

  My mom says I should stop doing that. Sam’s five and a half now—no longer a baby. He’s been riding his bike without training wheels ever since Uma moved in three weeks ago.

  She cocks her head. “What are you doing here?”

  “My meeting turned out to be shorter than expected. So, I thought I could head home and help you carry the groceries.”

  I refrain from mentioning that Uma isn’t supposed to do my grocery shopping in the first place.

  She’s an au pair in my house, and her responsibilities include taking care of Sam four hours a day. Considering his illness, it’s already more than expected from a regular au pair. Her contract states very clearly that household chores are not part of the package.

  But we’ve had this conversation several times over the past weeks, and Uma always comes up with some ridiculous reason to do more than her contract requires. Her excuse for grocery shopping, for example, is that it’s an educational activity. When I try to stand my ground, she just shrugs and says, “Sue me.”

  I’ve given up.

  The least I can do is make sure I intercept her in time to prevent her from pulling the cart all the way to the top of the steep hill where my house sits.

  Uma folds her hands over her chest. “Sam and I got this, Zach. You really didn’t need to rush back from Paris just so you could drive us up the hill.”

  “Paris is only a half-hour drive from here,” I say. “Besides, I truly had nothing better to do.”

  Uma’s expression softens. “OK, then. But we have one more stop to make before we head home.”

  Sam claps his hands. “Iced macarons!”

  I give Uma a questioning glance.

  “Don’t worry,” she says. “They’re almond meal and stevia, and I got the ingredients vetted by Sam’s doc.”

  I exhale a relieved breath, feeling a bit stupid for doubting Uma’s dependability. She’s the opposite of my ex. She’d never put Sam in harm’s way.

  As we stand in line at the baker’s, a flurry of polite bonjours erupts near the entrance, making Uma and me turn our heads. The town’s mayor, Jules Cantini, has entered the shop and is shaking hands with his constituency. As is his habit during his “casual” weekend outings, monsieur le maire is accompanied by one of his aides and by a photographer.

  Coach Lucas should take a page from Monsieur Cantini’s book.

  “Ah, Zachary,” the mayor says, spotting me. “Good to see you!”

  I shake his hand. “Jules.”

  Since I became the official patron of Inry’s new aquatics center and a regular guest coach at the kids’ swimming club, the mayor and I have been on a first-name basis.

  He greets Uma and Sam and waves his photographer over.

  “Monsieur Cantini would like to be photographed with you for the next issue of Inry News,” the aide informs me.

  “Sure.”

  “With your family, of course,” the mayor says, pointing to Sam and Uma.

  Uma nudges Sam toward me and draws aside.

  The mayor raises his eyebrows.

  “I’m not family, I’m the nanny,” she explains.

  “Oh, come on, Uma!” I pick Sam up. “Who cares?”

  She shakes her head.

  The mayor turns to her. “Mademoiselle…”

  “Darji,” she prompts.

  “Darji,” the mayor repeats before turning to the shopkeeper, “and Madame Brossard, please join us for this impromptu photo op.”

  Impromptu, my foot.

  The ladies oblige, and a dozen clicks of the camera later, we can stop smiling.

  The aide, who’s been scribbling in his notebook, snaps his fingers. “Just a moment of your attention, please. I want to make sure everyone’s OK with the caption. It’ll say, ‘Mayor of Inry, Jules Cantini, at Patisserie Brossard with owner Anne Brossard and patrons Uma Darji, little… er…”

  “Samuel,” I prompt.

  The aide nods a thank-you. “Samuel Monin and his father Zachary Monin, star of the French water polo team and founder of one of the fastest-growing startups in Inry.”

  I frown. “Will you please scratch the ‘star’ part?”

  “Why?” The aide arches an eyebrow. “You were last season’s top scorer to the best of my recollection.”

  “That doesn’t make me—” I begin.

  “Come now, Zachary.” The mayor tilts his head to the side and pats my arm as if to sa
y, You should know better than that.

  I sigh and nod to the aide. “OK, sure. If it helps the town.”

  “Wonderful.” The mayor shakes everyone’s hands and heads out the door with his entourage in tow.

  After I buy the iced macarons, we shovel them in our mouths and go home. Once inside, Uma and I unpack the groceries while Sam crashes his remote-controlled helicopter into the ceiling and every single wall of the kitchen.

  “Why don’t you play in the garden?” I ask him. “A few more hits, and your brand-new gadget will break to pieces.”