What was he afraid was going to happen if he had sex with her?

Sebastian knew she could deny it all she wanted, but Julie was the happily-ever-after type. So why had she propositioned him out of the blue?

Just then, there was a knock at the hotel-room door. Grateful for the distraction, Sebastian went to answer it. “Yes?”

“Package for Mr Black.”

Sebastian opened the door, tipped the bellman generously and accepted a large box with a fancy ribbon. He removed the lid and peered inside. He laughed at the pair of black cowboy boots, matching black stetson and brand-new lasso.

At the bottom of the box was a folded note.

“I’m naughtier than you could ever guess, cowboy. Wear this outfit and meet me at Lone Star riding stables on Sunday at 10:00am. That is, if you have the balls.

J

PS Expect the unexpected…”

Lori Wilde is the author of forty books. She’s been nominated for a RITA® Award and four Romantic Times BOOKreviews Reviewers’ Choice Awards. Her books have been excerpted in Cosmopolitan, Redbook and Quick & Simple. Lori teaches writing online through Ed2go. She’s a registered nurse trained in forensics and she volunteers at a battered women’s shelter.

Lethal Exposure

By

Lori Wilde

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

To Brenda Chin, for helming the Blaze® line to great success

Table of Contents

Cover Page

Excerpt

About The Author

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Epilogue

Preview

Copyright

Chapter 1

“SEX SCANDALS, insider media leaks, Mafia connections and homicidal nurses running amok in a hush-hush, celebrity boutique hospital in Austin, Texas? How are you planning on spinning your way out of this one, Sebastian?”

Sebastian Black grinned at his stern secretary, Blanche Santini, like James Bond smirking at Moneypenny. “I’m not a spin doctor,” he said. “I’m a highly trained public-relations specialist adept at repairing the tattered reputations of the social elite.”

Blanche snorted.

“I’m shocked that you doubt me, Blanche, shocked.” He loved teasing her just to see her get bent out of shape. He’d hired Blanche because she reminded him of the doting aunt who’d raised him. He kept her on—even after he discovered she was nothing like his permissive aunt Bunnie—because she was the most efficient secretary he’d ever employed.

“Confidential Rejuvenations’ latest disgrace made the front page of the Inquisitive Tattler. It’s the fourth time this year. Tough case, even for a man with your silver-tongued talents.”

“Have you ever known me to fail?”

“First time for everything,” Blanche said crisply and dropped the Confidential Rejuvenations file on his desk.

With his smile still firmly entrenched, Sebastian cradled the back of his head in his palms and propped his feet on his desk. Blanche frowned at his shoes, which were polished to a high sheen. It was all he could do not to settle them back on the floor. The woman worked for him. He wasn’t about to let her dictate his behavior.

“Why, Blanche,” he drawled. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you wanted to see me fall on my ass.”

“Charm, poise and sex appeal will only get you so far in life, Mr. Black.”

He hated when she called him Mr. Black. It made him feel like his father and he was nothing like his old man. “Don’t forget my razor-sharp wit.”

Blanche rolled her eyes. “Mark my word, one of these days you’re going to get your comeuppance.”

“Comeuppance? Which millennium is that from?”

She ignored his comment. “At some point the wine, women and song have got to come to an end.”

“It still works for some,” Sebastian said.

She waved a hand at the file. “You have a first-class seat booked on the ten a.m. flight to DFW. With the time difference and plane change, you should arrive in Austin on schedule for your dinner appointment with the Confidential Rejuvenations’ owners. I checked the weather in Austin, storms are expected this evening so I packed your raincoat. Would you like me to drive you to the airport, sir?”

“No, thanks,” Sebastian said. Blanche had driven him to the airport before and she followed the speed limit as if it was one of the Ten Commandments. “I’ll get Linc to do it.”

“As you wish.”

He chuckled, but the minute Blanche was out the door, he dropped his feet to the floor, leaned forward and flipped the file open. Truth was, he loved a challenge of this magnitude.

Sebastian saw himself as a modern-day knight in shining armor. Swooping in on his fire engine-red Ferrari, saving the day with a glib turn of phrase, a wink and a grin for the media and then swooping out again, with money lining his pockets and kudos ringing in his ears. Returning to his lavish 90210 area code and bachelor lifestyle. It was the kind of life he’d daydreamed about as a poor kid growing up on a run-down farm in Bakersfield with his little brother Lincoln, his ditzy, hippie aunt Bunnie and all the other eccentrics at the commune.

He was just about to buzz Lincoln’s office when his brother appeared in the doorway, jangling his car keys. Even though Linc was the younger brother, he was a good two inches taller than Sebastian’s own six-foot height, and where Sebastian had black hair and black eyes, Lincoln possessed green eyes and auburn hair. They had the same mother. Different fathers. But being half brothers hadn’t affected the close bond between them.

Growing up, Sebastian had been the one to look after Linc, get him off to school, make sure he did his homework. He taught him how to ride a bike and then later, drive a car. Aunt Bunnie and her friends had been too busy making clothes out of hemp, drinking wine, spouting liberal politics, writing poetry and playing guitar to pay much attention to what he and Linc were up to.

“Blanche said you needed a lift to LAX.” Even though Linc was eleven months back from Iraq, he still kept his hair trimmed in a precision military cut.

“Do you mind? Blanche drives like a prison warden.”

“Not at all. It’ll give us a chance to talk.”

Sebastian pushed back his chair, stood up, took his designer suit jacket off the coatrack and shrugged into it. “What’s up?”

“It’s about Keeley.”

“Did you guys break up?” he asked hopefully.

Sebastian couldn’t say he was surprised. While Keeley was a good person, he didn’t think she was right for Linc. She was one of those tree-hugging idealists who chided Sebastian for leaving “a big carbon footprint.” Whatever the hell that meant. He shrugged. Bottom line, she thought he should drive a Prius and live in a hut made out of manure and eat berries and twigs. Since Keeley was a peacenik and Linc was a soldier, he’d just been waiting for the sonic boom.

He tucked the Confidential Rejuvenations file into his wheeled carry-on bag and spied the present he had tucked away for Linc. He’d been waiting for the right moment to make him an equal partner in the PR company and give him the solid gold nameplate he’d had made for Linc’s desk. He snapped the case shut.

Sebastian crossed to the door, pulling the suitcase behind him and clamped his brother on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about Keeley. Plenty of fish in the Pacific Ocean. I’ll take you out when I get back from Austin. We’ll hit all the trendy clubs and get rip-roaring drunk.”

Linc met Sebastian’s eyes. “Keeley and I didn’t break up.”

Uh-oh. His brother had that defiant expression on his face that he used when they were kids and Sebastian told him to do something and Linc wasn’t of a mind to obey. His brother was generally a pretty accommodating guy, but when he dug in his heels, he dug in his heels. Sebastian couldn’t count the number of wrestling matches they’d had as he’d imposed his will on his younger sibling. Linc had never won, but he’d come damn close a time or two.

“No?” Sebastian turned and started toward the elevator, and his shoes suddenly felt heavy, as if he was trudging through mud.

Linc hurried after him. “I know you two don’t get along.”

“Of course we get along.” Sebastian stepped into the elevator and Linc followed. “I get along with everyone.”

“On the surface, yeah, because you’re great at keeping up appearances, but I know Keeley rubs you the wrong way.”

Sebastian punched the button for the parking lot. “Hey, I don’t have to sleep with her. If you like her…”

Linc hardened his jaw. “I want you to make more of an effort to see her side of things.”

“Look, she’s entitled to her opinion, I’m entitled to mine. We don’t have to like each other.”

“Could you do it for me?”

“Why push us on each other, Linc? This affair will burn out and then you’ll have a new girlfriend. I can’t be best buddies with all of them.”

“You’re wrong about that.”

Sebastian felt a cold prickle of apprehension slide down his spine. “What do you mean?”

“I wanted you to be the first to know.”

He didn’t want to ask because he feared the answer, but Linc had a hand on his shoulder. “Know what?”

“Keeley and I are getting married. We’ve set a date for April. I want you to be my best man.”

That grabbed Sebastian by the short hairs. He jerked his gaze to Linc. “You’re what?”

His brother wasn’t backing down. “You heard me.”

“Aw, come on, buddy. You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“You’re not thinking clearly. Marriage is a huge step and April is only six months away. Why so fast? You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”

“We’re getting married in Austin where her parents live. They want to throw us an engagement party at the end of the month. I can give you their address if you’d like to drop by and meet them while you’re in town. Keeley’s father is the one who recommended us to Confidential Rejuvenations. ”

“I appreciate the recommendation her father threw our way, but you don’t have to marry Keeley over it,” Sebastian joked.

Linc shot him a chiding glance. “Keeley says she’ll make an effort to get along with you, if you’ll make an effort to get along with her.”

“But come on, marriage?”

“She wants you to like her.”

It was as if they were having parallel conversations, both talking but neither really hearing the other. “You can’t be getting married. You’re barely twenty-five and she’s what? Twenty? Twenty-one? She’s not even through college. That’s way too young to get married.”

Especially to someone as uptight and uncompromising as Keeley Marshall.

Linc stopped beside his silver Toyota Camry. “My mind is made up, can’t you just be happy for us?”

Guilt chewed at him. He wanted to be happy for his brother, he really did, but whenever Sebastian thought about marriage he got a tight choking feeling in his throat. Reaching up, he loosened his tie. “Dude, you’ve got a good ten years of bachelorhood left in you. Ten years you can never get back. You can always get married.”

“I love her, man.”

Sebastian raised his palms. “You just think you’re in love. You come back from Iraq after seeing a lot of scary things. You’re vulnerable, horny and first thing out of the box you meet Keeley. It’s chemistry and circumstances. That’s all.”

“I know what I feel,” Linc insisted stubbornly and unlocked his car door with a push of the keypad.

Sebastian tossed his carry-on bag into the backseat and climbed in the passenger side, shaking his head as his brother slipped behind the wheel. He snapped his seat belt into place. “How many women have you slept with?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“A hell of a lot.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Just answer the question.”

“Three,” his brother admitted and cranked the engine. “Three, okay? I’ve slept with three women. That doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”

“Including Keeley?”

“Including Keeley.”

“You don’t have enough sexual experience to say Keeley is the one.”

“How many women have you slept with?” Linc wheeled from the parking lot.

“A gentleman never kisses and tells.”

“A dozen?”

Sebastian laughed.

“Two dozen?”

He couldn’t seem to get enough air. He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and dialed up the air-conditioning vent, turning it up as high as it would go. “My sexual history isn’t the issue here. Rather your lack of one.”

Linc guided the Toyota onto the expressway and began maneuvering over into the HOV lane. “I prefer quality over quantity.”

“Who says I don’t have both?”

“I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about emotional intimacy.”

“You sound like a girl.” Sebastian hooted. “I mean come on, emotional intimacy?”

“When was the last time you had a serious girlfriend? Oh, wait, you’ve never had a serious girlfriend.”

“Hello.” Sebastian spread his arms. “Happy playing the field. And that’s exactly what you should be doing.”

“With all due respect, Sebastian, I don’t think you’re the best person to be giving me relationship advice.”

Sebastian felt a twinge of something odd in the secret corners of his heart, in a place he didn’t want to examine too closely. Linc had been little more than a kid when he’d joined the army after two years of college. The whole time he was overseas Sebastian kept thinking about the day when his brother would come home. He’d imagined them out on the town together, having fun, living the bachelor lifestyle. He’d mentally planned road trips and adventure vacations. He’d envisioned Linc coming to work for him at the PR firm he’d started with nothing but his self-confidence, winning smile and glib tongue.

And while Linc had come to work for him, they’d never really had a chance to cut loose, party together or take the trips he’d planned. Keeley had seen to that.

You’re jealous.

Sebastian frowned as Linc turned onto the airport road and got into the lane leading to the terminal. Of course he wasn’t jealous. What the hell did he have to be jealous of?

He certainly didn’t want what Linc had. A bossy woman leading him around by the nose. He’d known for a long time that he wasn’t cut out for marriage. He liked his freedom too much.

He had it all. Successful business, big house in Beverly Hills, lots of money in the bank and a little black book filled with names of beautiful, high-profile women.

What more could a man ask for?

“Why are you so afraid of commitment?” Linc asked. “Considering our childhood, and the way your father treated you, I’d think you’d be hungry to find that one special woman to share your life.”

“I’m not afraid of commitment.” Sebastian reached up and yanked off his tie. He inhaled. Ahh. Getting that noose from around his neck made it easier to breathe.

Linc laughed.

“What?”

“You’re terrified.”

“I’m not afraid and besides, there is no such thing as one special woman. All women are special.”

“Spoken like a man who’s never been in love.”

That statement irritated Sebastian. What was it about people in love? They turned so smug, as if they’d discovered the ancient secret of the ages or something.

Linc pulled to the curb.

This was it. Time to tell him he was making him a partner. Maybe that would change Linc’s mind about this whole marriage nonsense. Sebastian reached into the backseat, unzipped his suitcase and took out the nameplate Blanche had wrapped in gold foil and tied with colored raffia.

Feeling awkward and far too sentimental for his own liking, he thrust the package at Linc. “This is for you.”

“What is it?”

“Just open it.”

Linc opened the package, then read the lettering out loud. “‘Lincoln Holt, partner.’”

Sebastian cocked a grin at his younger brother, smiling past the constriction in his throat. “I promised I’d make you partner.”

“Aw, hell, Seb.”

“Well?”

Silence filled the car.

“What do you say, partner?”

“Sebastian…there’s something else I gotta tell you.”

“Keeley’s pregnant?” he guessed. It was the only reason he could see for his brother’s hasty marriage.

“No, Keeley’s not pregnant.”

“Did I mention a raise comes with the partnership?”

Linc shook his head. “I can’t. Keeley’s uncle offered me a position at his security firm in Anaheim and I’ve accepted.”

“Oh?” Sebastian said lightly, as if he didn’t care, but inside his gut balled up tight against his spine. “You’re jumping ship right after I make you partner?”

Linc met his gaze. “You and I both know that I’m not cut out for public relations and this job with Keeley’s uncle would make use of the expertise I gained in the military.”

Sebastian felt the same way he did when Linc had told him he’d enlisted, like he’d been kicked in the gut with steel cleats. But he refused to let it show. He gave his brother his best public-relations smile. “This is really what you want?”

“It is.” Linc handed him back the nameplate.

He stuffed the damnable thing into his jacket pocket. “Then go for it.”

Relief shone in Linc’s eyes. “Thanks, man. I appreciate your understanding.”

His nose burned. The nameplate weighed heavily in his pocket. He blinked and shrugged. “Not a problem.”

Sebastian retrieved his carry-on luggage and humped it into the terminal with a backward wave at his brother. Once he was out of his Linc’s sight, he ditched the nameplate in a trash can, straightened his shoulders and moved through the security checkpoint. He found his gate and then boarded the plane, all the while managing not to feel a damned thing.

It was only when they were airborne and he had the Confidential Rejuvenations file in front of him that the familiar—but unwelcome—sensation of abandonment stole over Sebastian.

Knock it off, Black. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Focus on the job. It always saves your ass.

Work and a night on the town with a beautiful woman.

That was exactly the antidote he needed. It never failed. A new assignment in a new city and a new woman to make him forget all about these unwanted feelings of missing out on something important. He was on the road again and as soon as he got to Austin, he planned on seducing the first appropriate female who crossed his path.

After all, it had been months since he’d had a soft, willing woman in his arms and he had a reputation to uphold.

“DEMARCO,” Maxine Woodbury called down the immaculately clean corridor. She was a sixty-nine-year-old emergency-room ward secretary who’d been floated up to Confidential Rejuvenations’ sexual dysfunction unit while the regular ward secretary was on maternity leave.

“Yes?”

“You’ve got a new admit coming in.”

Julie DeMarco, R.N., suppressed a heavy sigh. It was her third admission of the day and while that was nothing unusual, the double whammy of crappy news she’d gotten in the morning mail had her feeling far less than her customary enthusiastic self.

Normally, Julie was known around the hospital for her cheery, glass-half-full optimism. She prized a sense of wonder and tried to look at the world with kindness, hope and empathy. Sure, she got teased for it. And yes, she’d been a cheerleader in high school. She couldn’t seem to help herself. She did tend to look on the bright side of life.

At work, she favored special-order pink scrubs patterned with red hearts and wore her long, wavy blond hair pulled back in a perky ponytail. Outside of the hospital environment, Julie wore floral prints and paisleys and richly textured fabrics that flowed softly when she moved and she allowed her hair to tumble about her shoulders in unbound curls.

She knew she wasn’t a classic beauty. Her eyes were too wide, her forehead a bit too narrow, her lips too lavish and she was self-conscious about her slightly crooked front tooth. She’d promised herself veneers when she’d passed her credentials to become a certified sex therapist, but it looked like the veneers would have to wait. One of the letters she’d received that morning was the disheartening news she’d flunked her qualifying exam.

The second unsettling piece of mail had come from her ex-lover, Roger.

At the thought of the letter resting in the pocket of her lab jacket, Julie curled her fingernails into her palms. Just when she thought she was finally getting over him, he’d sent her into an emotional tailspin again.

Dearest Julie,

These last six months have been torture without you. I think of you constantly and dream of being with you again. I miss the taste of your lips. The sweet lavender scent of your hair. The bright hopefulness of your smile. I would love to get together and rekindle our old bond. Please know you’re never far from my thoughts.

All my love,

Roger

The rat bastard wanted a booty call.

She inhaled sharply. His letter held not a single mention of the reason they’d broken up. Julie had discovered that he’d neglected to tell her one crucial little detail about his life.

Roger had a wife. And he had a daughter just eight years younger than she.

It’s what you get for dating older men.

The familiar guilt that had haunted her from the day she’d discovered Roger was a married man—the same day she’d broken things off with him—clamped down on her.

She felt like such a stupid romantic fool. Roger had been only her second lover. Her first lover had been her college biology professor, who’d broken up with her once the semester was over and gone on to another student.

She was a walking cliché. Burned twice by older men and her sexual naïveté. Her lack of in-depth, hands-on sexual experience was the main reason she’d asked to be assigned to the sexual dysfunction unit and it was the motivation for her decision to get certified as a sex therapist. She thought the knowledge could help her learn how to differentiate sex from love.

It was something she clearly had trouble doing.

Julie thought about Roger’s letter and how much he’d hurt her. She’d been so ashamed she hadn’t told anyone about her mistake except her two best friends, Elle and Vanessa.

Her stomach knotted. Until Roger, she’d believed in fairy-tale romances and she’d always thought of herself as a “good” girl. Now she felt tainted, dirty.

Shaking her head, Julie sidled up to the resplendent green granite counter of the nurses’ station. “What’s the new admit’s diagnosis?”

Maxine was a thin, feisty woman who loved Confidential Rejuvenations so much she ignored the fact that she was past retirement age and just kept working. She dyed her hair flame-red and had a penchant for turquoise jewelry. Today she wore a pair of dangly phoenix earrings.

“Priapism.” Maxine winked.

This time Julie did sigh. “Priapism” was the medical term for an erection that wouldn’t abate even with repeated sexual activity. The cause was usually drug-induced. “Viagra?”

“Some herbal thing.”

“Guest’s age?”

Confidential Rejuvenations’ new policy was to call the patients “guests” as part of the hospital’s attempts to revamp their image damaged by recent scandals. In Julie’s estimation it was a silly idea, but no one had asked her opinion.

“He’s thirty-one.”

“So this was a recreational thing, not a home remedy for impotence?”

“Apparently.”

Julie frowned. “Boys and their toys.”

Maxine glanced over her right shoulder, and then over her left. Finally she leaned forward and lowered her voice. “The patient is a Hollywood director who’s been shooting a film here in Austin. He’s being admitted under a generic alias to the Corona Suite.”

It wasn’t uncommon for celebrities to dodge the paparazzi by signing in with bland monikers like Smith or Jones or Black.

“But before you escort him to his suite,” Maxine continued, “Dr. Carpenter wants you to put him in exam room one, do a physical assessment and then call him when you’re done.”

“Gotcha.” Julie grabbed her laptop computer that was docked on a rolling cart, and headed off down the tiled corridor to check on the rest of her “guests” before the hotshot Hollywood director showed up on the floor.

She’d just completed her rounds when a man in a beige London Fog raincoat got off the elevator and came toward her. He smelled of musky autumn rain and dark truffles.

Stunned, she stood there staring.

He was movie-star gorgeous, causing her to wonder why he’d chosen a career behind the camera instead of in front of it. Tall and lean, but muscular as an athlete. His thick black hair was brushed back off his forehead, giving him a powerful appearance, which was complemented by his perfectly tailored navy blue suit, cream-colored shirt and maroon silk tie. His eyes were enigmatic, his cheekbones high and chiseled, his mouth wide and inviting. His eyes, fringed by lush lashes, looked black as ink and full of mystery.

He was the kind of man who made even a die-hard romantic like Julie surrender her happily-ever-after daydreams for the promise of one unforgettable night in his bed.

Definitely a Hollywood type. This had to be her guy.

The air between them weighed heavy with expectation. He looked as if he owned the entire hospital and everyone in it. He looked as if he wanted to own her as well.

Feeling ambushed by this totally unexpected and wholly inappropriate sexual attraction, Julie’s stomach pitched as a dozen wayward fantasies flipped through her mind.

She pictured herself rolling around on a bearskin rug in a woodsy Alaskan cabin with the guy. She imagined their sweat-drenched bodies pressed together as they made love on the white sand beach in the Canary Islands. She envisioned them writhing against each other on the dance floor of a trendy salsa club as they danced the Lambada.

He was an Artic explorer and she was a native woman offering him the comfort of her igloo…and her body. She was a high-class call girl and he was her frisky sugar daddy and they were joining the mile-high club on a first-class trip to Paris. He was a virile cowboy and she was a sassy saloon gal.

In her wildly imaginative mind, she could taste the briny flavor of his skin as she licked his bare nipple. She inhaled the intrinsic scent of lusty man. She could hear his deep-throated groan as he called out her name in pleasure.

Whoa!

What was wrong with her? He was a patient. She was a nurse. It was inappropriate, unprofessional and wrong on about ten different levels. She should not be feeling these sensations.

And yet, she was.

Stop this now.

She tried to make her mind blank. Tried to tamp down the erotic vision of what his hot male body would look like stripped of his London Fog raincoat and designer suit. She tried to slam the brakes on her taboo fantasies.

But she could not.

Oh, this was bad, bad, bad. She was supposed to be the sex expert, but she was the one who needed therapy.

Shocked by the intensity of her emotions, her gaze dropped helplessly to his crotch.

Chapter 2

SEBASTIAN, who didn’t miss a trick, noticed where the nurse’s gaze went and he suppressed a smile. “Hi, I’m Mr. Black.”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” she murmured.

Oh, no, whispered his impudent ego, where have you been all my life? A sexually confident woman bold enough to overtly check out his package in public? He gave her the once-over and the first thing he noticed was that she wasn’t wear a wedding band.

Hmm.

Her tongue flicked out and she ran it across her full, strawberry-colored lips.

Spellbound, he simply stared. He liked her. He liked her a lot.

She stood at the end of the corridor in front of a floor-to-ceiling stained glass window. The late-afternoon sun filtering in through the myriad of colors cast a radiant rainbow over her smooth, creamy skin. The center of the stained glass art was an unfurling red rose. The sunlight shimmered, bathing her honey-blond hair, which was pulled back so appealingly in a long ponytail, in a blushing pink glow.

Like zinfandel. Sweet, light, innocent.

The sight was evocative enough to cause instant sweat to bead on his brow in spite of the temperate climate inside the hospital.

Sebastian had an almost irresistible urge to pull the clasp from her hair and run his fingers through those silky locks. He couldn’t pry his eyes off her and he had no idea why. He normally went for leggy redheads with big boobs, not diminutive waifs with vulnerable eyes. His heart literally skipped a beat and the unexpected reaction disturbed him. Usually the only time his pulse skittered was when he successfully steered a client’s reputation out of the skids.

His gaze dropped to the round curve of her breasts. Her name tag said Julie. A sweet romantic name.

He glanced up.

Their gazes met.

Cemented.

She possessed the most interesting blue eyes he’d ever seen. Eyes the same color of the Pacific Ocean.

Her lips parted.

Sebastian gulped.

Quickly, she glanced away, but then a second later her gaze was on his again, assessing him with slow, deliberate intent until he began to feel like a bug under a microscope.

She narrowed her eyes, pressed her lips together in a firm line and crooked a finger at him. “Come with me.”

He followed. At this point, he would have gone straight to hell if that’s where she was leading.

Her rubber-soled shoes squeaked quietly against the marble tile. The lemony smell of cleaning solution filled the air. His gaze fixated on the sway of her spectacular ass.

She took a key from her pocket, unlocked a heavy oak door, turned the handle and pushed inside. He went in with her and found himself standing in a state-of-the-art examination room. The leather exam table was obviously new and covered with crisp white butcher paper. The fixtures on the walls were shiny, polished chrome.

Was this where he’d be taking his meeting with the hospital’s owners? Unexpected, but okay. Or maybe she was just putting him in here while she went to round up the Confidential Rejuvenations executives.

He shrugged out of his raincoat and hung it on the coatrack beside the door. The room was bigger than a run-of-the-mill exam room, but still small. He turned and found himself face-to-face with her.

She stole his breath with a reassuring smile. The woman made him think of sunflowers and golden retriever puppies and hand-squeezed lemonade. Not a combo he’d ordinarily think of as sensual, but somehow she made wholesome look hot.

Sebastian was acutely aware of a steady strumming of sexual energy flowing from him to her and back again. Her impact was not the full-on whammy of a classic beauty, but instead it was more like the comforting appeal of hot chocolate with miniature marshmallows on an icy winter’s day.

You’re from L.A., what do you know about an icy winter’s day?

Ah, there was the voice of reason struggling to break through the odd spell she’d cast over him. She possessed a certain earthy quality that called to something deep inside him. Something basic, raw and entirely new.

His pulse accelerated. Amazed by his body’s overt reaction, Sebastian had to clear his throat in order to speak. “I want…” Dammit, how could he think with her staring at him that way?

“Yes?” she coaxed, low-voiced as a priest in confessional.

I want. I want. I want.

What did he want? Sebastian frowned, yanked his gaze from her sweet lips and looked deeply into her blue eyes, fringed with long lashes. “Uh…”

Terrific, Black, a speechless spin doctor? He couldn’t ever recall a woman leaving him tongue-tied.

“Why don’t you go ahead and take your clothes off?”

“Huh?” For one wild, incomprehensible moment, he thought she was suggesting they get naked together.

She reached for a pair of purple latex examination gloves resting on the green granite countertop. “I need for you to get undressed so I can do an initial assessment on you and report my findings to Dr. Carpenter.”

He blew out a breath of air on a tense laugh. “Oh, no, no, there’s been some kind of mix-up.”

“There’s no need to be ashamed. Many men experience erectile dysfunction.”

“Hey, hey, hey. I do not have erectile dysfunction.”

“Then why were you taking sexual enhancement supplements? Because you know, using impotency drugs—even when it’s an herbal medication—simply for fun and games can be deadly for your sexual health.”

“Huh?”

“How long have you had the erection?” Her gaze drifted down the length of his body.

He felt the heat of her glance straight to his bones. “Wait, wait.” He held up his palms. “You’ve obviously got me confused with someone else.”

At least this explained why she’d been staring at his crotch. Just the thought of having her examine him with those latex gloves on her lithe fingers shot chills up his spine. He didn’t know if they were chills of dread or anticipation. The prospect was oddly erotic, but in a scary kind of way.

“You’re Mr. Black, correct?”

“Yes, but I’m not a patient.”

She frowned. “You’re not the movie producer?”

“No.”

Flustered, her cheeks pinked and she took a step back, fingering the stethoscope around her neck.

“I’m Sebastian Black, from Back in Black Public Relations. The hospital’s hired me to improve Confidential Rejuvenations’ image after some recent…er…trouble.”

“Oh.” Embarrassment deepened the color in her cheeks from pink to red, pushing it all the way into her hairline. “Oh, no.”

He smiled to reassure her. “Don’t feel sheepish. I should have told you right away why I was here.”

“Well…um…I…” Clearly flustered, she dropped her gaze and started for the door, but he was standing in her way.

She went right.

He followed.

Head down, she dodged left.

He beat her to the punch, smoothly blocking her path.

“What?” she demanded, sounding irritated.

“Look at me.”

He could tell she didn’t want to do it, but he wasn’t moving until she did. She tilted her head.

Their gazes met and a renewed voltage surged between them.

He hadn’t felt an attraction this potent in a long time. The chemistry both unsettled him and stoked his curiosity. What was it about her that so piqued his interest?

It’s not about her. You’re just susceptible because of what happened this morning with Linc.

“It was a natural mistake,” he soothed.

“You don’t have to spin it for me,” she said, surprising him by recognizing what he was doing. “Let’s tell the truth. I made an idiot out of myself by not asking what was the nature of your business the minute you arrived.”

“You were trying to spare me humiliation. You thought I had been playing around with some Viagra kind of thing and got myself into trouble.”

“You’re too smooth for my own good,” she said. “You ought to come with a warning label. Something along the lines of ‘Warning—man may appear more charming than he really is.’”

“How do you know I’m not as charming as I appear?” He grinned, enjoying their sparring.

She tossed her head and her ponytail bounced pertly. “I’ve had dealings with charming men before.”

He arched an eyebrow. “You don’t say.”

“To my detriment, I might add.”

Sebastian took a wild guess. “A charming man left you brokenhearted?”

“Something like that.” She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “Anyway, I learned my lesson. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Black, I have to find my real patient.”

“The guy with the irrepressible boner?”

“Mr. Black,” she scolded, but her eyes were lively. “That’s inappropriate.”

“You’re right—” he flicked his gaze to her name tag “—Julie.”

“It’s Miss DeMarco.”

“Miss? As in not married?” His eyes drifted to the bare ring finger of her left hand. He might play the field, but as far as he knew, Sebastian had never bedded a married woman and he wasn’t about to start.

“As in none of your business. Now if you’ll get out of my way, I’d appreciate it.”

He’d pushed too far. Sebastian was smart enough to know when to back off. He stepped aside and she brushed past him on her way out the door.

The contact—their first touching—was nothing short of electrifying.

They both inhaled audibly in a simultaneous breath. She stopped in midstride and their gazes seared again. He felt like a pistol. Hot, cocked and loaded.

She was right. He was inappropriate.

“Look,” he said, “we got off on the wrong foot. Why don’t we start all over?” He thrust out a hand. “Hello, I’m Sebastian Black.”

She hesitated and just when he decided she wasn’t about to take his hand, she reached out. “Julie DeMarco.”

He grasped her soft palm and she squeezed lightly. His entire arm tingled and he experienced a hot rush of sexual energy surge through every cell in his body and the hairs on the nape of his neck rose to attention.

The sight of their clasped hands riveted him. Her creamy skin was much lighter than his. She was all soft and smooth. He was hard and rough. The contrast in their two hands would have made one hell of a photo. Man, woman. Strength, delicacy. Tanned, pale. United.

A familiar rush of adrenaline. The thrill of the chase. Outside in the hallway, in the silence of his indrawn breath, Sebastian could hear a cart being pushed, wheels squeaking, in need of oil. In that moment Sebastian understood that one way or the other, he was going to take this woman to bed.

“Pleased to meet you, Julie DeMarco.”

And then he had a brilliant idea that would effectively kill two birds with one stone. A solution that could help him solve Confidential Rejuvenations’ image problem, plus get him closer to the appealing Miss DeMarco. The technique had served him well on many campaigns.

“Listen,” he said, “I need your help.”

“My help?”

She looked so cute with her brow furrowed and her bottom lip tucked up between her teeth. Good thing she was no longer investigating the zipper of his pants. She’d see that the Viagra abuser wasn’t the only one with a boner.

“I need an insider’s view.”

“An insider’s view?”

“To help me see Confidential Rejuvenations in a way only someone who works in the trenches can. I’d like to hear what you think about the recent scandals.”

“I can’t violate patient confidentiality.”

“Nor would I ever ask you to do so.” He smiled. “I’d just like to get your take.”

“Why me?”

“I need input from several sources, not just the bigwigs in the expensive suits. Let’s be honest, they’re out of touch with what really goes on behind the scenes.”

“Bigwigs in expensive suits like you?”

“Touché.” She was feisty. He liked that. “What do you say?”

“I don’t know if that would be such a good idea.”

“Do you always work the swing shift?”

“Yes.”

“Does your shift start at three?”

“Two-thirty.”

“How ‘bout this. I meet you for lunch at the sushi restaurant down the block that I saw when I was driving in.”

“Are you always this pushy, Mr. Black?”

His gaze held hers. “Only when I see something I want.”

She made a small noise in the back of her throat and gave him a cool, assessing glance. He noticed the pulse at the hollow of her neck quickened. Ah, just as he suspected. She liked him, whether she was willing to admit it or not.

“So it’s a date,” he said as a statement, not a question, but his gut squeezed.

Julie pursed her lips, her frown deepening.

She’s going to say no. His hopes took the express elevator to his shoes.

What in the hell was the matter with him? Why was he so disappointed at the thought she’d reject him? He hadn’t felt this nervous around a woman in years. Blame his aberrant anxiety on the fact his brother had dropped the marriage bomb on him that morning and he was off his game.

It had been too long. He was a bit chagrined to realize he hadn’t had sex in almost ten months. Not because he hadn’t had plenty of chances, but mainly because no woman had excited him enough to give chase.

But Julie DeMarco had changed all that in record time.

She sank her hands on her hips. He saw the word no forming on those full, luscious lips. His disappointment was surprisingly sharp-edged.

She held his gaze.

He heard blood rushing through his ears, felt his body tighten.

“Okay,” she murmured. “I’ll do it. I’ll give you an interview.”

“I MET A GUY.” Julie grinned at her best friends, Elle Nash and Dr. Vanessa Rodriquez. They were sharing a pitcher of beer at a hole-in-the-wall pizza parlor near the University of Texas, which served up the best deep-dish pie in Austin. For the first time since she’d broken up with Roger, Julie was interested in someone and she simply had to crow about it.

It was almost midnight, but the place didn’t close until 2:00 a.m. and it was a handy meeting spot, equal distance from all their homes and Confidential Rejuvenations. Elle and Julie both had worked swing shift that evening and Vanessa had stayed late catching up on backlogged paperwork.

“I’m having lunch with him tomorrow.” She was making it sound like a date, but what was wrong with that? Who knew what direction things might take? One thing was clear, they had chemistry.

It’s not a date.

Okay, so it wasn’t really a date. It was an interview, but still, he’d certainly seemed interested in her. Which was surprising, considering how she’d embarrassed herself over a case of mistaken identity. Remembering what had transpired in the exam room, she bit down on the inside of her cheek.

“A date?” Elle was a sensible redhead with dazzling green eyes and a way of smiling that made everyone like her immediately. She reached for a second slice of pepperoni-and-black-olive pizza. “That’s great. It’s about time. I’m happy for you.”

“Who’s the guy?” Vanessa asked over the rim of her frosty beer mug. Vanessa was a beautiful Latina with long black hair, chocolate-brown eyes and a Mensa IQ. “Anyone we know?”

“His name is Sebastian Black.”

Vanessa set her mug down and leaned back against the red vinyl booth. “Is he the public-relations specialist from L.A. that the hospital’s board of directors hired to polish Confidential’s tarnished image?”

“He is.”

“You move fast,” Elle said. “He just got in to town. The entire E.R. staff’s buzzing about how cute he is.”

“He was the fast mover.” Julie recalled those tense, exciting moments in the exam room when they’d touched. Her fingers were still tingling from the contact.

“Watch out, Tanner filled me in on the guy’s reputation,” Vanessa said, referring to her fiancé, Tanner Doyle. As head of security at Confidential Rejuvenations, it was Tanner’s job to check the backgrounds of all potential employees, including contract workers. “Sebastian Black may be an excellent spin doctor, but he’s also got a reputation as something of a player.”

Julie’s stomach squeezed. Mindlessly, she pleated the red-and-white-checkered paper napkin in her lap. “Meaning…?”

“Handsome, rich, commitment-phobic. Rumor has it he’s got a woman in every city he visits.”

“What’s wrong with that?” she surprised herself by asking.

Vanessa and Elle gave each other startled looks, then turned to stare at Julie.

“Well?” she asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You feel her forehead and see if she has a fever,” Vanessa told Elle. “I’ll check her pulse.”

They moved as if they were actually going to do it. Laughing, Julie held up her palms. “I’m not feverish, honest.”

Elle picked the olives off her pizza. “Where’s our little die-hard romantic? You were the one coaching us not to give up on romance and now, here you are, ready to take up with a playboy who’ll only end up breaking your heart.”

“About that,” Julie said. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes?” Her friends leaned forward, hanging on to her every word.

“Maybe it’s time I shook things up a little. Took a walk on the wild side. I’ve never been very good at separating love from sex and I think maybe it’s time I learned. I’m twenty-nine and after the number Roger did on me…” She let her words trail off.

“Seriously?” Elle asked.

Julie glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone was within earshot, then leaned closer to her friends and lowered her voice. “It’s been six months since Roger and I’m feeling—”

“Horny?” Vanessa supplied.

“Sexually frustrated.” Julie preferred her own word choice. She wasn’t as frank and earthy as her friend. “You guys, I think that’s why I failed my certifying exam. I’ve been having erotic dreams lately and I’ve been so distracted by them I can hardly concentrate on my work.”

Vanessa looked at Elle and nodded. “She’s horny. That’s my official medical diagnosis. Nothing wrong with being horny. It happens. Part of the human condition. Nothing to feel awkward about.”

“I don’t feel awkward.”

Vanessa waved a hand. “How come your face is turning as red as this booth?”

“Okay, all right.” Julie took a deep breath. “I’m horny. I need a man. And not just any man. I need a man who’s good in bed, but one who is not looking for a relationship. I need a no-strings-attached affair and I need it now.”

“Where is this coming from?” Elle asked. “This philosophy is so not you. Not that I think it’s a bad idea, mind you. Just that it’s not like you.”

Julie pulled Roger’s letter out of her pocket, unfolded it and passed it to her friend.

Elle read it and then handed Roger’s letter to Vanessa. “What a weasel.”

“Oh, no, he didn’t,” Vanessa said after reading it. “The jerk.”

“I’m tired of being a starry-eyed romantic,” Julie said. “I’m sick of being naive when it comes to men.”

“And you think a fling with a totally inappropriate guy will fix that?” Vanessa raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“I know it will.”

“What’s going to keep you from falling in love with him?” Elle asked.

“His total inappropriateness.”

Vanessa dragged another slice of pizza onto her plate. “Being totally inappropriate didn’t stop you from falling for Roger.”

Julie took a sip of her beer. It had gone warm. She grimaced. “That’s because I didn’t know he was inappropriate until I found out about his wife.”

“And his daughter who’s only a few years younger than you,” Elle pointed out. “Don’t forget.”

Julie jammed on a false smile. “Thank you so much for reminding me.”

“So you’ve set your sights on Sebastian Black as your totally inappropriate rebound guy?” Vanessa asked.

Had she? Until this moment, she hadn’t realized exactly what she’d been thinking, but yeah, maybe she had.

“It sounds like this Sebastian character is used to speeding in the fast lane and let’s face it, sweetie, you’re a slow-lane kinda girl,” Vanessa added.

“He did more than turn my head. Sebastian had me so confused I mistook him for a patient.” Julie explained about the Hollywood bigwig patient with priapism and Sebastian’s appearance on the wrong floor at exactly the wrong time, leading to one of the most embarrassing moments of her life.

The fact that Julie was even considering a temporary fling should have been a huge red flag. For her entire life she’d been the girl who collected housewares and linens for her hope chest and cut out pictures from brides’ magazines to paste into her wedding-plan book. Her favorite game had been Mystery Date. She was the girl who plastered posters of boy bands on her wall and kept a pink diary filled with teenage angst about her many crushes.

It hardly seemed fair that her friends had found true love while she was the one who was still single and searching. Not that she resented them their happiness. She just wanted her share, too.

Maybe Vanessa was right. There was no way she was cut out for a bumpy ride in the fast lane. She should probably call up Sebastian and tell him she couldn’t meet him for lunch tomorrow.

Where’s the harm in lunch? She was being nudged by the part of herself that hungered for excitement and the thrill of something new.

“Jules?” Elle said. “You okay?”

“Huh?” She blinked, realized her friend had said something to her and she hadn’t even heard it.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt again.” Elle put a hand on Julie’s arm. “Remember how long it took you to get over Roger?”

Way too long. That was why she needed someone new, someone fresh, someone fun, someone like Sebastian.

She met Elle’s gaze. “I do appreciate your concern. I’ll be careful. I promise.”

Vanessa grinned. “Make sure to pick up some condoms. Ribbed, for your pleasure.”

Julie’s mouth went dry. Maybe she wasn’t up for this after all.

“Please, make sure not to romanticize him. He’s just a guy,” Elle said.

“Like Dante was just a guy?” Julie asked, referring to Elle’s new husband, Dr. Dante Nash, who’d been undercover for the FBI when he’d busted Elle’s ex-husband, Mark Lawson.

“That’s different,” Elle said hastily. “I had to learn how to be romantic. You’re trying to learn not to be so romantic. You’re the one with unrealistic ideas about love.”

True enough. Julie sucked in her breath as she thought about Sebastian. Just remembering his dark, curly hair had her fingers tingling to run through those thick locks. The core of her sex tightened. Her body wanted him, no question about that.

But was she brave enough to step on the accelerator and change lanes? Did she have what it took for a wild, adventuresome fling? Could she really forsake her romantic nature, learn how to have sex for sex’s sake and leave love out of the equation?

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.