Sinful Love (Sinful Nights #4)(92)
I straighten my shoulders when I hear a familiar voice.
Deadpan and pure innocence at the same time.
The blonde startles. “No,” she says with a snarl, snapping at the questioner. “I didn’t drop anything.”
“Are you sure?” The tone is of complete and utter concern.
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face because I know the woman behind the voice is up to something sneaky.
Harper Holiday.
Red hair. Blue eyes. Face of a sweet, sexy angel; body of a badass, ninja warrior princess; and owner of the most pitch perfect delivery of sarcasm, as well as the uncanny ability to appear out of nowhere. I’d play Dirty Synonyms, Dirty Antonyms, Dirty Anything with her.
Harper steps from behind the blonde in line, and opens her palm. “Because I’m pretty sure this is your wedding ring,” she says, a concerned look in those bright blue eyes as she plucks a gold wedding band from her palm and offers it to the hungry blonde.
“That’s not mine,” the woman says defensively, all that flirty sweetness swiped clean from her voice.
Harper smacks her other hand against her forehead. “Oh, my bad. You put yours in your pocket a few minutes ago. Right there.”
She points to the woman’s right pocket, and sure enough there’s the outline of what looks to be a wedding band. And that’s exactly what I suspected she was doing in line. Stuffing it away. Probably had forgotten she was wearing it, then tried to hide it at the last minute.
The married woman’s face goes pale.
Busted.
“This one,” Harper continues, holding up the ring and letting it catch the light from the ceiling, “This is the one I keep handy for situations like this.”
Samantha mutters bitch under her breath, turns on her heels, and marches away.
“Enjoy the book,” Harper calls out, then turns to me, cocks her head, and shoots me an I-just-saved-your-ass grin. In her own imitation of the Mister Orgasm groupies, she says, “Nick Hammer. Is that your real name?”
Just like that, I’m hoping Serena stays in the restroom for a lot longer.
PREVIEW OF
SAPPHIRE AFFAIR
Present Day
In truth or dare, everyone knows you should pick dare.
Truth is too risky. It gets you in trouble. But Jake Harlowe had always been drawn to trouble, and maybe, somewhere inside of him, he wanted to tell her the truth.
Even if the truth would lead to more trouble.
As Steph marched to the end of the dock, then spun around, fixing him with a challenging stare, he knew there was only one answer to the question she was about to ask.
“Truth or dare?” she asked, the moonlight framing her stunning, sun-kissed face, the ocean breeze sweeping through her hair, the smell of salt water wrapping around them.
“Truth,” he said easily, reaching for his beer bottle and taking a drink as gentle waves lolled past them.
She arched an eyebrow and raised her chin. Her tough-girl stance, and it made her even sexier. Damn, she was hot when she was feisty. “Tell me the truth for real. Did you know who I was the night you met me?”
He scoffed. “I knew you were the hottest woman I’d seen in ages,” he said, somehow unable to resist slipping around her question to give her a compliment.
She stared at him. “That’s not the whole truth.”
“Fine. I knew you were a pain in the ass,” he added.
“Gee, thanks.”
“I knew you were going to drive me crazy.”
“You drive me crazy, too,” she countered, parking her hands on her hips.
“Sounds like we’re just about even, then.”
“No. We’re not. Because you still haven’t answered the question. Did you know who I was?”
“No,” he said, setting his beer on the railing. He stepped closer to her and grasped her bare arms. Her skin was soft and warm. “I’ve told you a million times. No. No. And more no. And I could ask you the same damn thing, too. I could ask if you knew who I was. But I’m not asking. Because it doesn’t matter right now. It doesn’t matter anymore.” He let go of her arms and gestured from him to her. “This? This isn’t about who knew what when. It’s about the fact that I can’t get you out of my head.” He tapped his skull. “It’s about the fact that I’m not supposed to get involved on a job. It’s about the fact that even if I weren’t about to break that rule in spectacular fashion, I should absolutely not break it with you, of all people.”
She pressed her teeth into her lower lip, and the tiniest sliver of a smile appeared on her face. Oh hell, he was going to have a field day kissing that smile away all night long and feeling her melt in his arms.
“But you’re going to? In spectacular fashion?” she asked, her tone soft and inviting now.
“No more questions, Steph. Your turn is up. It’s mine now. So, what’ll it be? Truth or dare?”
She licked her lips and raised an eyebrow. “Dare.”
Smart woman. She was smarter than he was. Or maybe she just wanted the same thing—a dare to match the truth.
“I dare you to kiss me right now,” he said with a grin, knowing she wasn’t going to back down, because this woman backed down from absolutely nothing.
She inched closer.