Release Blitz, Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway:
Highland Fling by C F White
Flying into Love, Book 6
Can a Highland fling stir a culinary passion into lasting love?
Dean Fraser traded his football dreams for cooking when injury struck. He’s now got a shot at becoming the new chef at Castle Largleith, despite his lack of experience. Working at the Michelin-starred restaurant in the picturesque Scottish Highlands could change his entire life and help him escape the clutches of his cheating ex-boyfriend.
Hot-headed Executive Chef Ewan Grant is bidding farewell to the career that cost him his lover. To atone for the suffocating guilt eating away at his life’s passion, he’s determined to fulfil his late partner’s bucket list. First, he needs to find the perfect replacement chef.
When Ewan conducts a series of cooking competitions to find the right fit, the underdog ex-footballer takes him by surprise. Dean’s unlikely culinary talent brings a storm of emotions into the kitchen. Sparks fly, and an illicit attraction ignites more than the sizzling hotplates. But acting on it could ruin Ewan’s reputation and Dean’s chance at the job of a lifetime.
Struggling to resist the tempting flavours of forbidden love, their whirlwind affair threatens both of their dreams. Can they navigate the treacherous waters of romance without sacrificing what they both need? Or will their passion leave them with a taste too delicious to resist?
Highland Fling is a forbidden lovers, age gap, found family standalone novel in the steamy contemporary Flying into Love MM romance series, featuring a fiery Scottish chef too used to his own way and a determined ex-footballer desperate to prove he’s more than a pretty face.
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The kiss
Then Ewan met his gaze and a raw vulnerability spilled out unchecked. “I want to apologise.” He puffed out his chest as if finding his voice and inhaling his courage.
“For the freezer?” Dean let his arms drop to his sides. “Gerry did that. It’s all gravy, mate.”
“No.” Ewan pinched the bridge of his nose, eyebrows knitting together. “Not for the freezer. Well, on second thought, aye, for the freezer. That shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry I didn’t act on your warning.”
Dean nodded. “No worries.” Silence. “So if you weren’t here to say sorry about the freezer, what are you sorry for?”
“The kiss.”
Dean chewed on his bottom lip, watching Ewan fighting his internal battles. Should he offer him something? A tea. A coffee. Something stronger from the minibar that had remained untouched? Perhaps, more importantly, a likewise. Somehow, he couldn’t be as flippant about his own kiss as Ewan could be about his.
Dean wasn’t sorry.
“It shouldn’t have happened.” Ewan’s green eyes seared into Dean’s and there was such sincerity and such longing that Dean’s heart thumped at how his words didn’t match what his body was saying. “It was wrong. I overstepped the mark. I’m sorry.”
Dean waited, then looked away and shrugged. “Okay.”
“You’re part of a recruitment process. My recruitment process. I am the judge, jury and executioner here. It was wrong of me to assert myself onto you in that way.”
“I see.”
“There’s a power imbalance.”
“There is.”
“I think it’s best if…”
Dean widened his eyes for Ewan to finish what he’d come here to do. To ask him to leave. To forfeit. This was where it ended. This was the next fire to burn him alive. And like the times before, it wasn’t his fault. This time, though, a kiss would put an abrupt end to his second chance. A kiss he hadn’t initiated, but a kiss he’d returned. A kiss he’d wanted. Had it been worth the risk? Although he might not rise again from the ashes Ewan produced of him, he was fooling himself to think he wouldn’t choose the kiss.
He stepped closer to Ewan. “If what?”
“If we remain at a distance from each other.”
“A distance?”
“We shouldn’t be…alone.”
Dean edged closer still, toes touching the tips of Ewan’s shoes. “We’re alone now?”
“This was necessary.”
“Necessary?”
“For me to apologise, and to explain the rules.”
Hints of whisky droplets spattered from Ewan’s lips, and Dean could feel his restraint waning. It had been a hard eight months to sobriety, and he wasn’t sure what he was craving more—the intoxication or Ewan’s kiss.
Both.
They were one and the same.
“The rules?” Dean cocked his head.
“This can’t happen. We can’t happen.”
Dean slithered a hand up Ewan’s neck, urging him to lower his head. “Do you mean this?”
Ewan trembled beneath his touch. “Yes. This.”
Dean smiled, lips dangerously close to Ewan’s. He didn’t move. Neither did Ewan. A battle of wills, they stood close but apart. Dean wasn’t a seducer. He never had been. He was more often the seduced. By football. By food. By the drink. But the tables had turned. Dean was inciting. Goading. Provocative. He was teasing. Maybe he was like all those other men who had tempted Gary, whom he hadn’t been able to refuse. Maybe Gary had been right all along.
Can’t fight desire, babe.
But this was Ewan. His dark magic had consumed Dean. As if what had happened earlier had been a sample. A mini bottle. And here he was, serving Dean the full-sized version. Like the drink, Ewan was ready and available for Dean to lose himself in.
But when Ewan didn’t make a move, Dean came to his senses. He stepped back. “All right.” He turned away, burying the overwhelming urge to fuck it all. To forfeit the job anyway, so he could let Ewan have him.
Then Ewan grabbed him by the scruff off his neck, forcing him around to face him, digging brutal fingers into his skin, and slammed his mouth onto his. Dean tumbled into him, raking his fingers into Ewan’s hair, clutching the cropped strands to hold him in place. Ewan responded by curling a fist into his loosening bun, keeping him steady. It was desperate, yet soft. Fierce, yet tender. Ewan explored Dean’s mouth, seeking every part of his lips, but remained cautious, on the edge, tiptoeing his way through and holding himself back from diving in.
To celebrate the release of Highland Fling, CF is giving away the winner’s choice of eBook or Audio of Flying into Love Book 5: Jersey Royal!
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About the Author:
Brought up in a relatively small town in Hertfordshire, C F White managed to do what most other residents try to do and fail—leave.
She eventually moved West to East along that vast District Line and settled for pie and mash, cockles and winkles and a bit of Knees Up Mother Brown to live in the East End of London; securing a job and creating a life, a home and a family.
After her second son was born with a rare disability, C F White’s life changed and brought pen back to paper having written stories as a child but never the confidence to show them to the world. Now, having embarked on this writing journey, she can’t stop. So strap in, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.
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