Seductive Hearts... OUT NOW

Trusting the Player - Paperback

A billionaire, workplace romance

$14.95 $15.95


★★★★★ A workaholic lawyer and a playboy.... Amber and Logan's story was incredibly enchanting. A strong chemistry between them, a great plot with some twist you don't see coming. Definitely worth a reread :)



I had my two rules.

Rule One—Never sleep with the same man twice.

Rule Two—Never mix business and pleasure.

I play hard, and I work even harder—just to forget.

When the new client at work turns out to be the guy who gave me the earth-shattering O, I try with all my might to forget about our tryst.

Working with him is testing my will, especially when he is trying to jeopardize everything I’ve worked for. He is beyond frustrating, yet I can’t seem to forget about his hands on my body and the insatiable need we had for one another.

The more time we spend together, the more my will is stretched.

But if I bend, I’m breaking my own rules. The rules that keep me going and keep me safe.


I play hard. I don’t work. Why would I when my family is one of the richest in the country?

But after all this time, I’m forced to work for the family and by the way they treat me, I want to jeopardize the deal they’ve got me working on. But if I do that, I’m hurting her.

I’m backed into a corner, either way I play. But it’s no longer a game.

My nonchalance is testing the sassy-mouthed beauty I’m hitched with.

But she sees me differently, and I’m transfixed by her. I need to break her rules because if I have to look across at her for another day without touching her, I could implode.



Cronuts with blood orange glaze and beetroot macaroons colored the plate like Andy Warhol art. 

Dessert at the newest restaurant in Seaview was definitely living up to the hype.
“Why do they call it a cronut?” Lily asked, her blue eyes seemed larger with her recent blonde pixie cut. 

“It’s a cross between a croissant and doughnut.” Taking a bite, the Chantilly custard oozed out.
“And it’s warm!”

Jazzie cradled the pastry like a priceless artifact. All throughout dinner, the sound of the restaurant patrons did little to drown out Jasmine's love tentacles of happiness.
If I had any emotion at all, now would be the time to feel as I watched my gorgeous friend experience a bliss unknown to me.

The girls I’d met at college had taken me in like they’d known me their entire lives, especially when I needed a friend, only I got the bonus of having two. At that time, I knew no one. Leaving my fucked-up home situation to start again in a new town wasn’t easy. That’s where they came in. More lifelines than friends, they were compasses who guided me, supporting me during the tumultuous time.

“Excuse me, ladies, these are for you.” The waiter held a tray with three glasses of champagne.
“We didn’t order any champagne,” Lily said.
The waiter turned his attention from Lily to me.

“Courtesy of the gentleman at the bar for you, Miss,” he said, tilting his head in the direction of the bar behind him. 
Me? Without waiting for a response, he placed a flute filled with pale yellow bubbles in front of me, then gave the remaining glasses to the girls. 
“Thank you.”

I craned my neck to peer past the lanky waiter toward the bar.

Overhanging vines and wrought iron candelabras hung from the ceiling. I cast my gaze below.

There, a mysterious man with dark-brown locks, tanned skin, and a body fit for an iron-man challenge, stared back at me. Any other night I'd take him home—especially since his burning stare took me to another hemisphere—but not tonight.

Tonight, wasn’t about me. 
Jazzie turned around. “Who is that?” 
“I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter, I’m with my girls.” When I was out with my girls, I gave them my full attention. With Jazzie living in New York with Kit and Lily planning her wedding and running her own florist shop, it was rare for the three of us to get together these days. So tonight, no man, no matter how blisteringly handsome, was going to get in the way. 

The waiter smiled before retreating. 
“Tonight is about you, Jazzie. Lil and I are celebrating having you back in Seaview. I’m already missing you, knowing you're leaving us again so soon.”
“Holy hell. Who is that?” Lily said, twisting her neck.  
Again, as if on its own accord, my gaze shifted to him.

Our eyes collide, and his lips tipped into a lopsided grin. I held up my glass and gave him a nod of appreciation for our drinks while trying to ignore the fizzle shooting up my spine.
The Adonis would have to be put on ice…
Forcing myself to look away once again, I returned my attention back on my girls, but Jazzie’s stare remained on him.

“Oh, he’s coming over.” Jazzie whipped her head back around, her eyes as wide as the half-eaten cronuts in front of us.

“Damn, girl, he is handsome.” She giggled.
Thundering palpitations knocked at my chest with each step he drew nearer to our table. He sauntered across the busy restaurant floor, his almond-shaped eyes glued to mine.
“Good evening, ladies,” he said through a wide smile.

His voice, rich like mahogany, was almost as tempting as his scent of cinnamon and cedarwood invading my nostrils. Dark, well-kept stubble adorned his square jaw and catlike green-blue eyes sidelined me more than I’d like to admit. 

“Hi!” Jazzie and Lily said in unison, like the choir from Sister Act.
Smiling, he returned his focus to me. “You’re welcome.” 

He had the kind of hair you’d love to run your hands through, long on top with tapered sides. I swallowed. How long has it been?
“Thanks for the drinks, but as you can see, we are having a girls’ night.”

“I can see that,” he said, his cemented stance unshakable. 
I tilted my chin. “So, that means, no men.”
“Is that a rule you have?” he asked.

Lily interjected. “Amber loves her rules.”
“Amber.” His glare, prey-like and unmoving, sent pulses between my thighs.

Raising an eyebrow, I questioned, “Can you take a hint, Casanova, or are you as arrogant as your good looks?” 
Lily laughed and Jazzie covered her mouth, but he didn’t show any reaction. He stood, unperturbed.

Dressed in casual jeans and a crisp baby-blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, you’d be mistaken to think he fit in if it wasn't for his expensive tan loafers. 
I crossed my legs under the table. His arrogance wasn’t like the other twenty-somethings that tried it on. Where others would have scampered, he stayed, unfazed by my rebuttal—like he knew he would win, as if he always got what he wanted.

My skin hummed from my neck down. No, not tonight. 
“I’ll be at the bar, when you change your mind.” He smiled, and at this distance, it revealed a set of movie-star teeth.

“And they say whales have enormous balls!”

Lily licked the macaroon crumb that dotted her mouth.
“Ah, Mr. Full of Himself is pretty damn gorgeous, though. Right, Amber?” Jazzie asked.
“Sure, he is. And any other night, I'd probably take him home and lose myself in him, but—”
“And then what? Don't get his number because of your rules?”
“You know my rules keep me safe. What I was going to say before you cut me off, but I won't, because how often do I get to see you both now? Our weekly dinners have been non-existent since you moved to New York, Jazzie.” I took another bite of the cronut.
“And, Lily, you’re busy with your new florist shop… which, by the way, is so gorgeous.”
“Look who’s talking! You’ve been working around the clock. Trying to reach you is impossible. I have more luck when I’m in New York than when I'm here. At least I know you’ll be up in the middle of the night working when it's the a.m. in Manhattan.”

“True, but when you love what you do, it’s not really a job.” Jazzie arched an eyebrow. “I know Skype isn’t the same, but I’m here now and let’s just enjoy…” she flicked her wrist, “… the half hour left before I have to get to the airport.”
“We can’t keep the famous rock star waiting,” Lily joked. Truth was, Kit and his band, Four Fingers, were exploding on the charts worldwide, and he couldn’t be a nicer guy with a nicer girl than Jasmine.
“Kit said he’d meet me at JFK. How sweet is that?”
“Sugary sweet,” I said. I was happy for her, truly.

But we were wired differently. For starters, I didn't do relationships. After what I witnessed growing up, I firmly gave myself two rules. I lived by them and never strayed. With a subtle quick shake of my head to clear my thoughts, I focused on my friend and her happiness. 
She grinned. “I told you I’m joining him on tour for a while, didn’t I?”

“Yes, how exciting! What a trip that would be.”
Lily wrapped her fingers around the last macaroon as she gave me a pointed look. “You know, Amber, he’s still looking at you.”
I glanced over our round table toward the bar. 
He sat on the oak stool, leaning against the bar opposite a woman, seemingly oblivious to her conversation. The dim lighting did zero to shadow the lust-filled energy shared between us.

He was staring directly at me, while simultaneously chatting someone up, who from the way she was stroking his bicep, appeared to be a sure thing. 
Who does that?  Someone with moon-sized cajones and a gold-plated schlong, that's who, and it sent a flutter to my core.
“I’m going to miss you guys so much. Please come to New York and visit me and Kit. There’s a ticket there waiting for you,” Jazzie said.
“I can get my own ticket,” I said.

“Of course, you can.” Jazzie smiled. She’d known me long enough to know I didn’t mean to offend her.  

“Summer in New York sounds amazing, maybe I could convince Blake,”

Lily said, a smile spilling across her cheeks. God, could my besties be any more in love? Ugh.
 “Just think about it, girls,” Jazzie added.
I downed the rest of my double espresso—the hot liquid sliding down my throat. It would aid in my midnight research on Magma Gold.

Starting tomorrow, under my boss’s supervision, I'd be the youngest lawyer in the firm I worked for—Jackson and Lane Lawyers— to be heading up a merger. And not just any merger. Magma Gold was the firm’s most prestigious client. I’d already done a ton of research, but I didn't get in this position by doing what every other associate had done before me.

Hell no.

I had goals and held myself to a higher standard.  
It was just after ten when we exited the restaurant, but it still buzzed with a mixture of backpackers and wealthy holiday makers. In under three years, Seaview had transformed from a local coastal town an hour from Brisbane to a tourist mecca where people flocked like seagulls, taking five different photos to try to capture the perfect Instagram-worthy shot. And to accommodate the new money, trendy bars and restaurants had been popping up more frequently than pimples on a teenage boy.

“Bye, gals,” Jazzie said as the taxi pulled up.
I clawed her in for a bear hug. “I hope it's not this long between drinks next time.”
She hugged me tightly, and to prevent a too long of a goodbye, I let go first. Long hugs reminded me of Mom, and then the guilt came thick and fast. 
“Let’s FaceTime next week,” Jazzie suggested.

Lily hugged Jazzie for a long time, their close friendship evident.

“Lil, if you don’t let her go, she’ll miss her flight.”

Gently, I peeled Lily's bear grip she had around Jazzie’s shoulders.
“Love you both,” she said, with glassy eyes. 
I closed the door to the taxi.

“Love you too!” Lily and I both said in unison.
The cab pulled away, taking our best friend back to New York, to the man of her dreams, and her new life.
I turned to Lily, her eyes glossy.

“I'm okay,” she sniffled. 
I put my arm around her shoulders. “I know you are.” 
I peered down at her jacket flopped over her handbag. “Dammit.” 

“What’s wrong?” She glanced up at me.
“I left my jacket in the restaurant.”

“You’re so forgetful,” Lily said. 
With a shake of my head I agreed. “ I think I’m just tired.” 
“Want me to come back in with you?”

“No, go. If you're lucky you’ll make it home before the rain sets in.”
She wrapped her arms around me, and I gave her a big squeeze.

“Dinner next week?” she asked, gathering her jacket above her head, catching the spits of rain that fell from the blackened sky.

I made a beeline into the restaurant, instantly spotting the denim jacket draped along the back of the oak chair. I scooped it up, turned around, and automatically set my focus on the bar, scouring it for the face that made me feel something. But he wasn’t there, nor was the woman he’d been sitting with. I darted toward the exit, pushing open the heavy glass door and inhaled a lungful of crisp, wet air. I let out a low grumble as I set about the shortcut via the alleyway, annoyed with myself for letting any man affect me in that way.

“Hey.” He appeared from the shadows. If it wasn't for his smooth voice, the same one that hadn't left me since dinner, I'd have taken off quicker than Usain Bolt. 

He was tall, at least a head taller than me, strong, fit, and as his eyes lingered from mine to my lips, and I heated instantly. His gaze set me alight. His arrogance, top of the charts, and a hell of a turn-on. He knew what he wanted and admittedly, so did I.

“Hey, yourself.” My legs stopped, obeying the deep need I had within and ignored the endless research awaiting me in my apartment. “Where’s your muse?”

“She’s right in front of me.”
“Am I?” I bit my lip. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Leaning in, he grinned, and I took a hesitant step back, hitting the brick wall lining the alleyway. His chin was only inches from mine, and his breath whispered against my mouth. My heart pounded. This was what I wanted right now, right here—forget work, forget friends, forget life. It was becoming a routine, wrapping myself up in men to forget it all. I’d stop it soon—probably—but I needed him now. 

His full, thick lips pressed to mine, taking them like a life raft. His tongue raked my lower teeth and his body pressed against mine as the mortar dug into my back. His knees spread my legs apart, his thickness on my thigh.

Fuck, this guy was hot, dark, and dangerous with eyes that pulled me in to his web.
“We can’t do this here,” I breathed. 

Suddenly, he grabbed my hand and ran, which left me no choice but to grip his hand. Nearly tripping over my heels, I stepped in and around puddles, the water splashing on my ankles. I ran beside him, like school kids itching to skip class, following him down the alleyway, where pedestrian light faded into gray, and the bitumen was slick from the rain.

The thought of taking him to my place left as quick as it came. This was way hotter. The rain fell, shooting down from the sky and wetting my emerald dress. He stopped when we reached an alcove of crates as high as a two-story building. He pinned me behind the wall of timber, hoisted me up with one arm, and automatically my legs wrapped around his waist. My breast spilled out of my bra, and he buried his head into my chest.

He grazed my nipple with his teeth, eliciting the perfect amount of pain and pleasure. 
“Aghh,” I let out, his touch exploding inside me.

“Don’t you want to know my name?” he groaned as he abandoned my nipple to look at me.
I pushed my mouth to his and kissed him hard, then withdrew. “You're not a local. Or a backpacker. Which means you're here on business. Either way, I won’t see you after tonight, so, no.” 

“I think I’ve met my match,” he answered almost as breathlessly as me. The rain sheeted around us, soaking my dress—it clung to me like a second skin. Balancing me, he undid his jeans, freeing his erection. With the other hand, he reached into a pocket and pulled out a foil packet.

He tore it open and, still holding me, managed to wrap himself, all while his almond eyes bored into mine.

“What are you waiting for?” I asked.
A crack of lightning lit up the sky, his dark eyes glinted mysteriously and lava hot.

He pushed my lace underwear to the side and entered me swiftly with two fingers, back and forth, pleasuring me to the nth degree. I shuddered with his touch. Then, without any warning, he removed his fingers and entered me with his full thick erection. Filling me perfectly, every thrust gave me pleasure I'd never experienced. I threw my head back as he cradled me in his arms. My breasts bobbed up and down as he buried his face into them, his beard grazing them.

“Fuck,” he hissed, continuing his heady invasion.
His hot breath clothed my skin. I took his mouth to mine, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue dancing with mine. I clawed at his shirt, feeling his broad shoulders and steel-clad muscles. My own body coiled with pleasure in response. 
Unable to hold onto the explosive feeling building inside of me, I let out a moan.
Again, he took his lips to mine, his rough stubble no doubt leaving its mark.

At this point, he could brand me. I didn’t care. My thighs quaked, taking in all the pleasure until it became overwhelming. My nails dug into him tighter.

“Shit,” I blew out, finding my release.  
Holy hell.
My legs were heavy, but he didn’t let me go. He groaned as he thrust a few more times, then found his release. “Fuck!”

“Don’t you want to know my name?” He groaned as he abandoned my nipple to look at me.
I pushed my mouth to his and kissed him hard, then withdrew.

“You're not a local. Or a backpacker. Which means you're here on business. Either way, I won’t see you after tonight, so, no.” 

“I think I’ve met my match,” he answered almost as breathlessly as me.

★★★★★ A stunning end Amber, a lawyer driven by rules, is surprised when Logan, the spare Magma heir, is at a meeting regarding the case that could make her career. As the story progresses rules are laid out, more surprises are in store for them, and just as walls start to come down a change in direction could derail everything they are working toward. Missy Walker’s Beyond Melting brought the series to a stunning end. I am not sure if I will be able to wait for the next series from this author - Jennifer, Amazon.


❤️ Billionaire Romance

❤️ Small Town Romance

❤️ Enemies-to-lovers Romance

❤️ Workplace Romance


✔️ Trusting the Player - Paperback


Print books are printed to order and shipped by our print fulfillment partner, BookVault. Print time is usually 72 workin g hours. After books are printed, they are packaged and shipped directly to you by the shipping method you choose at checkout. Rates and delivery times will vary depending on your delivery address and shipping method.

Average shipping times: To U.S. addresses, 2-3 weeks.


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What’s Your Desire?

Whether it be enemies-to-lovers or forced proximity, Missy Walker’s bundle has you covered. Hear from Missy herself about her favorite tropes!

Why you need these books.

There are hundreds of spicy authors out there, but only one Missy Walker. These stories are unique because they are born not just from her imagination but also from the real-life fantasies of her readers. So why invite her into your bedroom?

Forbidden Romance: Meet the taboo men of your dreams through your favorite literary tropes.

Sexy Encounters: Enjoy intricate details of those secret meetings that keep you up at night.

Endless Love: Feel a sense of satisfaction at the end of every book with the HEA you deserve to read.

Hear from Missy’s, erm, “highly satisfied” readers!

Waiting for your Paperbacks? Here’s how it works!

Print books are printed to order and shipped by our print fulfillment partner, BookVault. Print time is usually 72 working hours. After books are printed, they are packaged and shipped directly to you by the shipping method you choose at checkout. Rates and delivery times will vary depending on your delivery address and shipping method.

Average shipping times: To U.S. addresses, 2-3 weeks.

Missy Walker Author

Trusting the Player - Paperback

$14.95 $15.95

“Don’t you want to know my name?” He groaned as he abandoned my nipple to look at me.
I pushed my mouth to his and kissed him hard, then withdrew.

“You're not a local. Or a backpacker. Which means you're here on business. Either way, I won’t see you after tonight, so, no.” 

“I think I’ve met my match,” he answered almost as breathlessly as me.

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