Synopsis:
Good girls don’t do one-night stands…
If there’s one thing Lyssa Rivera knows, it’s that good girls don’t do one-night stands. But it only takes a few hours in the company of sexy businessman, James Everly, to change her mind. All she wants is a night of sin with the man who’s admittedly way out of her league. Then she can go back to being painfully, boringly good.
James Everly doesn’t do relationships, not after the horrible example set by his parents. When he meets a luscious, irresistible woman at his favorite bar, he’s more than ready to show her a night of ecstasy, but that’s all it could ever be. He certainly never plans on seeing her again. Yet when he shows up at his meeting the next morning to woo a venture capitalist, he’s shocked to find his competition is the very woman whose bed he just left.
James knows he should stay away. He’s no good at long term, and that’s what a woman like Lyssa deserves. But as the two vie for the investor’s attention, he finds himself struggling to choose between the family business and the woman whose touch makes him burn with desire.
Excerpt
Lyssa lost track of time as she sat there.
Finally, the doors to the front part of the office squeaked open and then
closed.
“How’d it go?” she yelled through the
open door of her private office.
The rough stride of footsteps sounded out along
the wooden floor, and then a voice that was unmistakably not Nadia’s
said, “How
did what go?”
Lyssa gasped and shot out of her chair so fast
she thought she might have given herself a case of whiplash.
“James!” No, she wasn’t just imagining his
voice. He was here, in the flesh. The deliciously male flesh. “Wha-what are you doing
here?”
He leaned against the doorway, somehow managing
to suck up all the air in the room. His bright blue gaze took in the details of
her small office. “Just
thought I should check out the competition.”
His words made her cheeks grow hot. She knew her
place was tiny, the location less than ideal, but it was cute and decorated
with whatever accessories she’d been
able to afford. And it was hers.
“I’m sure it’s nothing like your
Manhattan empire,” Lyssa
snapped.
When he nodded, her jaw tightened, but then he
said, “No, it’s warm and inviting, not
cold and clinical. My father always preferred steel and glass and contemporary
designs, but that’s not
exactly my taste. I much prefer the homier feel of your office.”
Oh. Her
anger deflated.
She slowly sat back on her chair, grateful for
the distance the desk put between her body and James’s hawkish gaze. “You seriously came all
the way to Brooklyn just to check my office out? Why? You must know you’re going to win Martin’s investment.”
James let out a soft tsk and crossed the threshold. “You won’t get far with that attitude.”
Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to look
him in the eye. “Come
on, James, stop playing games with me.”
He shrugged and sat on the overstuffed mauve
chair across from her desk. “What I
said earlier was true. Martin generally invests in smaller local companies. It’s a matter of pride for
him. When he started out, he was a one-man company and found it almost
impossible to get others to invest in his dream. Now he searches out local
talent with potential for growth.”
“Oh.” His words gave her hope.
“Really?”
James eyed her appraisingly. “You should be very proud.
If he’s
taken an interest in you, it means you’re doing something right.”
His words sent an unexpected wave of pleasure
through her. But then she thought of the other competition. “If that’s true, then Steve
Peterson is a worthy adversary.”
He stared at her, nonplussed, and they both
burst out laughing at the same time.
“Can’t expect him to get it
right every time,” James
quipped, but then he sobered. “In all
seriousness, Steve’s
company has seen a lot of growth over the past years, so I can understand why
Martin would hear him out.”
Lyssa cocked a brow. “You’ve been doing your
research.”
He gave her a slow nod. “That’s how I know your company
is poised to explode sometime in the next few years, even without a cash influx
from an investor.”
If only she could afford to wait that long.
“Martin
is unnecessary,” James
continued. “Especially
considering he’ll
take a percentage of ownership in exchange for his funds.”
Since confessing her family troubles to him was
the last thing she planned to do, she forced a pleasant expression onto her
face and rose to stalk toward the door. “I certainly appreciate the business advice, but
you’ll
understand if I rely on my own instincts when deciding what to do with my firm.”
When she motioned toward the exit, James took
her not so subtle hint. He stood and adjusted the lapels on his jacket and,
with a polite smile, headed toward the door. But he veered before crossing the
threshold, heading instead toward her.
Whoa.
She backpedaled at the look of serious intent on
his face. Her back hit a hard surface, and an instant later, his hands braced
the wall on either side of her, effectively trapping her in.
“What
are you—”
His head lowered to her ear. “I can’t stop thinking about
last night.”
A rush of heat flooded her body.
“The
feel of your skin,” he
murmured, his hot breath kissing her ear. “Your mouthwatering taste.”
Her chest heaved at the imagery his words
elicited. His arousing, masculine scent enveloped her, all but hijacking her
senses. That must be why she just stood there, resting her head back against
the wall, when she should be pushing him away.
“You
can’t stop
thinking about it either, can you?”
She summoned the courage to lift her hands to
his chest. But instead of pushing him away, they just rested there, drinking in
his heat. Traitorous hands.
“Stop,” she whispered.
Instead of obeying, he pressed a soft kiss to
the pulse beating in her neck. His right hand moved off the wall and slid down
the side of her body. She might as well have been naked. His molten touch
seared through the thin fabric of her suit.
“James,” she pleaded. Her body refused
to obey her commands. Instead of shoving him back, her fingers dug into his
chest through his shirt.
“When I
was inside you, all I could think about was how amazing you felt.” His hand trailed down to
the hem of her skirt and then he was sliding the tight fabric upward, stopping
only when it was high enough to reveal her black satin panties. “Like liquid fire, burning
me up from the inside.”
Lyssa whimpered when his fingers stroked her
through her underwear.
“Remember
that, baby?” He
nipped at her ear. “How it
felt to have me inside you?”
How could she not, especially when her body was
still sore from their lovemaking?
Two of his fingers slid beneath the scrap of
satin and he let out a rough groan. His hips pressed into her side, giving her
a hint of how hard he was beneath his suit.
“You
were so wet,” he
murmured, the pads of his fingers sliding along her moist folds. “Just like you are now.”
He was right. All it took was a few words about
last night and she was dripping with desire for him.
About the Author
Rosalie Lario is the author of the contemporary romance series, THE EVERLY BROTHERS, as well as the paranormal romance series, DEMONS OF INFERNUM and THE FALLEN WARRIORS. Rosalie double majored in Anthropology and Classics as an undergraduate student, and briefly considered becoming an archaeologist before realizing they don't actually live the life of Indiana Jones. So what was a classical geek armed with a lot of useless knowledge to do? Become a lawyer, of course!
After attending law school in Florida, she practiced real estate law for several years before finally admitting to herself that negotiating contracts wasn't nearly as fun as dreaming up stories. When not writing, you can find her on a boat somewhere along South Florida's waterways, chasing down a rainbow or pretending to be a pirate.
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