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The voice belonged to a female version of Cade. She had the same coloring and the same dark eyes. Taylor glanced toward Cade over the woman’s head. “I’m here to see Mr. Harper,” she mumbled. Mister! Good grief! She wanted to have sex with this man, and she called him mister!
“Cade?” his replica responded, eyebrows quirking upward.
Taylor nodded, relieved the woman didn’t ask any questions, and wondered at the same time what her reaction would have been if she’d said, “It’s about sex.”
“Follow me.” The young woman crooked her finger toward Taylor, turned and wove her way between tables. With trepidation and anticipation colliding inside her stomach, Taylor hurried after the woman.
“Cade.”
“Yeah.” He handed the margarita to a customer, and Taylor’s gaze followed the salt-rimmed glass. It shimmered under the overhead lighting, and she found herself licking her lips, almost tasting the delicious salt.
“Lady to see you.”
The moment Cade turned, everything changed.
Cade Harper. Bad boy. One sexy guy.
Taylor’s voice stalled in her throat, and she knew, when his smiling eyes captured hers, she was in way over her head.
Cade wiped his hands on a cloth and again Taylor’s gaze followed. Long, lean fingers. Fingers that would touch… Oh, boy!
He smiled. “You wanted to see me?”
She nodded and felt herself drowning in that smile. His dark eyes twinkled, a swirl of gold and chocolate brown. Just like Hershey Kisses.
Kisses!
Yep. She was definitely going under.
“Lady, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve got a bar to run,” he said, grabbing a knife and cutting a lemon into wafer-thin slices.
Taylor shook herself. Okay. Come on. Just say it. “I’ve got a favor to ask.”
“Ask away then,” he said, not looking up.
Taylor burned and eyed the milling crowd. “Actually, it’s a proposition.”
He definitely looked then, and his gaze focused on her. He placed the razor-sharp knife on the cutting board. His mouth quirked at one corner, smiling, gaze assessing. “Sounds intriguing.”
To save one good man, she’ll have to let her inner bad girl out to play…
Just Right
© 2010 Erin Nicholas
The Bradfords, Book 1
ER nurse Jessica Bradford is a good girl. Okay, a reformed bad girl, but she’s done her late father proud. Now she’s one step away from landing Dr. Perfect, aka handsome, sexy, heroic Ben Torres—the hot fudge and cherry on top of her hard work scooping out a respectable life.
Ben learned the art of sacrifice from his missionary parents, but when a drunk driver he saved kills three people, he quits. To be precise, the fist he plants in the man’s face gets him suspended. And the first dish he wants on his newly empty plate is Jessica—preferably naked.
Jessica can’t believe the Ben she’s found drowning his sorrows in a bar is her knight in shining scrubs. And he won’t be pried loose until she bets 48 hours of her time in a game of pool. She loses. And the next morning she stands to lose much more.
The Chief of Staff’s recommendation for the promotion she’s been after rides on her ability to keep Ben out of trouble until things blow over.
Except “trouble” is all Ben wants. And despite herself, Jessica finds that she’s more than willing to go down with him…
Warning: Contains hot love in a store dressing room and in the front seat of a car—at the expense of a very nice strawberry patch, unfortunately—oh, and hooker boots. Can’t forget the hooker boots.
