First Time For Everything (Harlequin Kiss, Band 5) - Softcover

Carson, Aimee

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0373207042 ISBN 13: 9780373207046

Verlag: Harlequin KISS, 2013

Inhaltsangabe

"So tell me, suit," she said, as lightly as she could. "What exactly is a virgin supposed to act like?"

Jacqueline's new boss is none other than her friend's older brother—hot-shot lawyer Blake Bennington. His control freakery and his need to always, always be right would normally send fiery, unconventional Jax running a mile—but even she has to admit he looks edible in his bespoke suit!

She's quickly realizing she's way out of her depth…but with this contained, experienced guy, trying to get him to lose his cool is just a little too tempting….

Harlequin KISS has 4 new fun, flirty and sensual romance books available every month.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

The summer she turned eleven Aimee left the children's section of the library, entered an aisle full of Mills and Boon, and pulled out a book. That story started a love affair that has followed her from her childhood in Florida to Alaska, Seattle, and finally South Dakota. She now counts herself lucky to be a part of Harlequin/Mills and Boon's family of authors. www.aimeecarson.com

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Ray-Ban sunglasses blocking the bright sun, Blake Bennington made his way down the courthouse steps, debating whether to ask Sara out before getting back to the office. Regardless of his decision, his fourteen-hour workday would have to be cut short for his appearance at the annual Moon Over Miami fundraiser tonight. Which meant, after ten hours in a tie, he was destined to trade his suit for a tux. But the discomfort would be a small price to pay given his sister Nikki's involvement with the event was what had kept her out of trouble since her arrival back home.

Blake pushed the troublesome thoughts aside. "Thanks for the info, Sara."

Beside him, the striking brunette in a power suit sent him a smile laced with a subtle come-hither vibe. Blake had been studiously sidestepping her interest since the first time they'd collaborated on the South Florida Drug Enforcement Task Force, years ago.

"Winning a guilty verdict in the Menendez case will solidify your chances for promotion, Blake," she said. "I hope the file helps."

"Every piece of information helps." They reached the busy sidewalk and he stopped to face the beautiful lawyer. "Seriously," he said. "I appreciate your time."

"You know I'm always available," Sara said as she brushed his arm with her fingers, and Blake bit back a smile.

Her touch seemed like a simple gesture, but he knew better.

Sara was classy. Poised. And intelligent. Known for being a bulldog in the courtroom, she possessed a dedication and pragmatism that rivaled his. Just the sort of woman Blake should date. Just the sort of woman Blake usually did date. One who understood his career goals and the time requirements.

So why was he hesitating?

While the question darted around his head, a passing lawyer stopped to ask Sara a question, and Blake paused, knowing he was a fool for ignoring the offer in her eyes. Nikki might be more of a time-consuming handful than a little sister had a right to be, not to mention the high-profile case that currently required his full attention, but he was a red-blooded man who enjoyed sex as much as the next guy. Despite ample opportunity, it had been six months since he'd last woken up with a woman in his bed. Six months since he'd followed through on the urge.

What was his problem?

As he contemplated the question, a female who looked barely old enough to vote plowed into him, her eyes fixed on her phone as one of her black-booted heels landed on his toes. Gripping her arms, Blake stared down at the long, honey-colored hair, the Beatles T-shirt and the enticing cutoffs—not short enough to reveal the underwear beneath, but coming pretty damn close. His internal debate made a lateral move from his sex life to whether there was lace or a thong beneath the shorts. And combined with the sight of sexy leather cowboy boots…

Man, he seriously needed to get a grip.

His feminine assailant slipped her phone into her pocket and removed her foot from his. "Sorry, Suit," she drawled, and Blake set her back, his eyebrows pulling together in amusement at the nickname. "I'm running late," she went on, "but that's no excuse for body-slamming you."

"You should watch where you're going," he said lightly. He nodded down at the fantasy-inducing footwear. "With boots like those, someone might get hurt."

"Cheer up. Maybe you can successfully sue me for a hit-and-run."

The infectious sparkle in her hazel eyes was more humor than seduction.

"Except you haven't run," he said, attempting to maintain a serious expression, knowing he was failing. "And technically, if you left me your name, I'd have no case."

"Well, when you put it like that…" She stuck out her hand, and Blake took it automatically, noting the soft skin and the small tattoo on the inside of her wrist. "Jacqueline Lee," she said. "And just in case you were considering asking me out—" she released his hand "—everyone calls me Jax."

Blake realized his previous words had been misconstrued as a come-on, and his forehead bunched in skeptical humor. "I don't date jailbait."

"I'm twenty-three and of sound mind and body," she said. He didn't know her well enough to verify the state of her mind, but it was obvious her body was most definitely sound. She tilted her head. "Does that help?"

He lifted an eyebrow in amusement. "It would, except I never date a woman who goes by a man's name."

Her wide smile at his fictitious—and ridiculous—dating guideline was alluring. "That's an awful lot of rules you got there," she said. She turned to go and then paused, shooting him a mischievous look over her shoulder. "Give me a call when you want to break one."

An amused scoff of doubt escaped as he watched her head out onto the courthouse lawn. When was the last time he'd engaged in a harmless flirtation? Too long, apparently. It was definitely time for him to start dating again if he was noticing a little hellion on heels. Hardly the kind of woman he needed in his life.

An old VW Beetle parked in front of the courthouse began to blast a song loud enough to fill the bustling courthouse lawn. And one minute his sexy assailant was crossing the grassy grounds, the next she was stepping out into a dance routine. Stunned, Blake struggled to make sense of her actions until, one by one, she was joined by adolescents in a clearly choreographed routine. Soon, more than a dozen youth were engaged in a dance number good enough to be aired on a professional music video.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, a flash mob," Sara said as she came to a stop beside him. Her voice was loaded with disapproval. "Don't kids these days have anything better to do?"

Blake stared at the group and, in particular, their leader, passion oozing from her every movement. Her earlier playful tone couldn't be taken seriously, but the earnest enthusiasm on her face now was mesmerizing.

"They're just having fun, Sara," he said with a distracted tone.

There was a time when he used to live to have fun, having entirely too much of it along the way. But just because he'd crashed headfirst into reality when his father had died, leaving the responsibility for his madcap family on Blake's shoulders, that didn't mean the rest of the world needed one of life's hardest lessons at the age of twenty.

"No harm in that," he went on.

There was harm, however, in the way he was appreciating the fluid movements of the hazel-eyed girl/woman. She twisted, twirled and moved to the Latino hip-hop song—an odd choice given her cowboy boots—with a supple grace that was capable of contorting her body into almost impossible positions. Her dancing fired his imagination, turning his blood to molten metal.

"No harm? Tell that to the police. They don't look amused at all," Sara said. "They look ready to make an arrest."

With effort, Blake shifted his gaze to the two unsmiling cops rapidly approaching the dance group, his mind filling with an interesting image of his hit-and-run perpetrator in handcuffs. And not in a professional capacity.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Blake gazed at the aforementioned policemen as one of them stopped to address the dancers engaged in the routine—a routine that currently involved undulating on the grass in an impressive dance move—while the other cop made a beeline for the beat-up VW Beetle blaring the music. And, for the first time, Blake noticed the leg encased in a long cast...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Harlequin KISS
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2013
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0373207042
• ISBN 13: 9780373207046
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 224
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: HarperCollins Publishers Ireland; enquiries@harpercollins.ie; ; Mayor Street Upper 39/40; Dublin; D01 C9W8; Irland