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About Layla
USA TODAY bestselling author Layla Wilcox writes steamy contemporary romances between sexy alpha males and independent, sassy women coming of age or ready for a second chance at romance. She loves pitting a handsome, hot dominant man against a sexy, smart beautiful woman and fanning the flames of desire while ratcheting up the tension before steering them to a happily ever after. When not penning sexy romantic reads, Layla keeps busy by plotting out plans to travel the world with her photographer husband.
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He Wants It, He Gets It
By Kira Ward
Emma Allred is usually polite and well-mannered, but when the rudest customer she's ever met walks into her diner, she can't help but lose her temper. A heated encounter turns into her worst nightmare when she finds out the jerk who she's thrown coffee on is none other than billionaire CEO, Dante Caito.
Hot, sexy, and demanding, Dante gets whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and he's not about to let little Emma get away without a lesson. Even if it means purchasing the diner so that she loses her job or buying out her apartment complex to demolish her home. He'll stop at nothing to get her revenge-- simply because he can.
But Emma isn't about to back down without a fight. Just because Dante is worth billions, doesn't mean that he can ruin her life. Dante just might have met his match. There's something about Emma's fiery nature that draws him in... He finds himself determined to have his way with Emma, inside and outside of the bedroom.
And he will. Because when he wants something, he gets it.
warning: This is the first book of the "He Wants It" series. Contains cliffhanger.
Chapter 1
Emma rushed through the back door of the diner, her bag getting caught between the door and the jamb as she tried to slide through. She paused, yanked it out, and nearly ran smack into Todd, one of the cooks.
“Running late again, huh?”
She just smiled, too breathless to do anything else.
She darted around Todd and ran into the store room, dropping her bag on one of the shelves, stowing her jacket beside it. Then she grabbed an apron and headed for the door.
“Thank God,” Leslie, another of the waitresses—and the only other one working the morning shift that morning—said when she spotted Emma.
“Sorry.”
She grabbed a pad and headed to a table where a couple was staring a little too aggressively in her direction.
Her eyes saw him come in ten minutes later, as she carried a plate weighed down with Todd’s fluffy pancakes to another table. He stood out because he clearly did not belong on that side of town. Tall and good looking, he was wearing a suit that probably cost more than Emma would make that year and next combined. His companion was also dressed in business clothing, but hers was clearly less expensive than his. She was pretty though, blond and svelte, like a model out of one of the fashion magazines Emma’s sister, Sophie, was always perusing.
“What can I get you?” she asked as she slid up to their table.
The man didn’t bother to look up from his smartphone, but the woman offered a soft smile.
“Do you have lattes?”
“I’m afraid not. Just plain coffee.”
The woman nodded as though she understood. “Two, please.”
Emma paused at several tables, taking an order here, checking on the need for refills at another, before she made her way behind the counter to grab a couple of coffee mugs. By the time she made it back to their table, the man in the fancy suit was staring at her.
“Did you have to make it from scratch?”
“No, sir.” She carefully set the coffee on the table, sliding a cup in front of each. “Can I get you anything else? Our pancakes are pretty—“
“If we wanted pancakes, we probably would have asked for them.”
Emma bit her lip as she glanced at Leslie. Another *.
Leslie touched the underside of her chin with two fingers, the universal gesture for “keep your chin up”.
“There’s cream there on the table. If you need anything else. I’m Emma.”
The man glared at her. She had no idea why.
She was only a few steps away when she heard him curse under his breath. “This has got to be the worst cup of coffee I’ve ever tasted!”
Emma spun on her heel even though a man at another table—Bob, one of her regulars—was gesturing for her. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Can I get you another?”
“Why would I want another if you couldn’t get the first one right?”
Again, Emma bit her lip. “Can I get you something else?”
“I’m almost afraid to ask.” He studied her face for a minute, his green eyes almost sinister in his handsome face. “Maybe a cup of tea would be safe. After all, all you have to do is boil some water.”
If Emma bit down on her lip any harder, it would probably split in half. But she only nodded, her anger softened slightly by the apologetic look on his companions face. Emma almost felt sorry for his female companion. It couldn’t be pleasant spending any length of time with a guy like him.