Authors: Linda Francis Lee
Tags: #Romance, #Sex in the workplace, #Fiction
Sinfully Sexy (29 page)
All she got for her efforts was deep rumble of laughter that didn't
stop ringing in her ears, even after she had disappeared into the west
wing of the house.
Determined to concentrate on work, Julia poured herself a Coke, then
returned to her new office. Her goal was to have a television show of
some sort developed by the time Chloe and Sterling returned in a month.
She was proud of the way she'd handled the sale of KTEX and paying off
her father's debts. She had done it, and done it well. She could create
a show, too. Surely.
A shiver of concern raced down her spine. What kind of new, fresh,
interesting show could she create?
It seemed like everything was done to death. The more she tried to
think of something new, fresh, and different, her brain locked down a
little more. By the time she finished her soda, she had gotten no
farther along than scribbling a bunch of doodles on her note pad. She
felt bored, antsy, and dying to
get out of there.
She thought of a million things that needed to be done around the
house. She even gave a thought to doing some laundry. But
procrastination didn't accomplish anything.
Though surely she should check on Ben, she reasoned. That was it! What
kind of a hostess was she if she didn't check on her guest? A wounded
guest at that.
She bolted out of the study with its book-lined walls and Oriental
rugs. She fled the west wing, leaving behind a living room, dining
room, kitchen, utility area, and three-car garage, before she came into
the high-ceiling entryway of marble and glass. A wall of stained glass
separated the entry from the largest room in the house. Most of the
time it was set up as another living room. But the furniture could be
moved out, the carpets rolled up revealing a glistening hardwood floor,
and suddenly they had a ballroom.
The house was U-shaped, the foyer and ballroom forming the base of the
U. On the other side of the entrance stood the long hall that lead back
to the many bedrooms and an informal den. Heading down
the carpeted hall, she found the guestroom she had intended for Ben to
use empty. Instead, Sterling had put his brother in the room that
connected to hers. The set up had been intended as a mini-suite of
sorts, two connected rooms that shared a bath. Definitely not the place
she wanted Ben Prescott. But clearly Sterling wanted her to be close by
the patient.
She felt a poignant tug that two brothers could have such a caring bond.
But the thought had barely flitted through her head when she tripped to
a halt just outside the guestroom doorway. She could see Ben standing
next to the bed, using an ironclad control to get his jacket off, then
his shirt. The sight of his bare chest made her breath snag in her
throat.
He was beautiful, like a statue, finely carved of smooth, bronzed skin
over muscle. His shoulders were wide, his waist trim and washboard
hard. Even after a week in the hospital, he was still amazing.
Gingerly, he lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed as he tried
to work off his pants. The grimace of pain brought her out of her
reverie. Guilt pushed at sexual awareness.
Without a word or a knock, she opened the door wide like a grand dame
entering stage right. "Why
didn't you tell me you needed help?"
He jerked his head up. "Because I don't need any," he bit out. What
little niceness he had shown earlier was gone completely. "Just get
out."
"That tone might send some weak-spined individuals running for the
hills, but you forget who you're talking to."
He actually groaned at this and hung his head. She had seen his brother
do that a time or two when
Chloe had done something particularly annoying.
"That's right. I'm Julia Boudreaux, a woman used to getting what she
wants."
She went for his belt buckle.
He grabbed her hand.
The strength was solid, but surprising gentle considering he clearly
didn't want her touching him.
"You're good at that, aren't you, cupcake?"
If he meant to embarrass her, he had the wrong girl.
"As a matter of fact, I am. And I will refrain from calling you
beefcake again since it makes me cringe
to think the word, much less say it. Now get your hands out of the way.
You don't have anything I haven't seen before."
Though that wasn't altogether true since she really had felt an
astounding .. . piece of steel... in his 501s the day she had done her
best to shock him when she pretended to play Doctor. But she wasn't
about
to tell him that. She could just see the strut of arrogance that would
cause.
His eyes narrowed and she was almost certain he growled.
"I can do it," he repeated.
"Sure, sure." She ignored him. "Let's start with your boots. We'll work
up to the belt."
After a second, it was like he didn't have the energy left to fight and
he fell back on the mattress, his boots still planted on the floor. She
grabbed first one, tugged, ughed, then finally had to turn around
and straddle his leg in order to remove it.
"Success!" she whelped, lurching forward in her stilettos when the boot
came loose.
When she finally had both boots lined up against the wall, she was
almost certain his face had broken
out in a sweat.
Hmmm. Yet another bad sign. Nurse really didn't figure into her skill
set.
"Let me get your jeans off."
"I can do the rest."
"Are you insane?"
He muttered. "I'll sleep in my pants."
She stepped back and smiled at him. "Isn't that sweet. Our hunky bad
boy is shy."
"I'll show you shy."
It happened so fast that she barely had time to register what he was
doing. By the time she had, she
was lying flat on her back, Ben on top of her. She barely registered
his grimace of pain for the feel
of him pressed against her.
"Oh," she managed over the rapid beat of her heart.
She couldn't begin to explain what this man did to her. His body had an
unerring ability to undo her.
He, on the other hand, was an entirely different story.
But right that second she wasn't thinking about personalities. She felt
the hard press against her thigh and desire slid through her, making a
very convincing case that there were times when personalities could or
should be ignored. Just looking at Ben Prescott, she'd bet the house he
could make her purr like a kitten. And maybe, she reasoned, having a
tiny little taste of what he had to offer wouldn't be so bad...
In the game of love, being shy gets you nowhere...
New York City home. She lives
in Manhattan with her husband, Michael. Her romance novels have been
nominated for numerous awards, including the prestigious RITA Award.
Looking for Lacey, a national bestseller, is the first of several books
set in her Texas hometown.
stop ringing in her ears, even after she had disappeared into the west
wing of the house.
Determined to concentrate on work, Julia poured herself a Coke, then
returned to her new office. Her goal was to have a television show of
some sort developed by the time Chloe and Sterling returned in a month.
She was proud of the way she'd handled the sale of KTEX and paying off
her father's debts. She had done it, and done it well. She could create
a show, too. Surely.
A shiver of concern raced down her spine. What kind of new, fresh,
interesting show could she create?
It seemed like everything was done to death. The more she tried to
think of something new, fresh, and different, her brain locked down a
little more. By the time she finished her soda, she had gotten no
farther along than scribbling a bunch of doodles on her note pad. She
felt bored, antsy, and dying to
get out of there.
She thought of a million things that needed to be done around the
house. She even gave a thought to doing some laundry. But
procrastination didn't accomplish anything.
Though surely she should check on Ben, she reasoned. That was it! What
kind of a hostess was she if she didn't check on her guest? A wounded
guest at that.
She bolted out of the study with its book-lined walls and Oriental
rugs. She fled the west wing, leaving behind a living room, dining
room, kitchen, utility area, and three-car garage, before she came into
the high-ceiling entryway of marble and glass. A wall of stained glass
separated the entry from the largest room in the house. Most of the
time it was set up as another living room. But the furniture could be
moved out, the carpets rolled up revealing a glistening hardwood floor,
and suddenly they had a ballroom.
The house was U-shaped, the foyer and ballroom forming the base of the
U. On the other side of the entrance stood the long hall that lead back
to the many bedrooms and an informal den. Heading down
the carpeted hall, she found the guestroom she had intended for Ben to
use empty. Instead, Sterling had put his brother in the room that
connected to hers. The set up had been intended as a mini-suite of
sorts, two connected rooms that shared a bath. Definitely not the place
she wanted Ben Prescott. But clearly Sterling wanted her to be close by
the patient.
She felt a poignant tug that two brothers could have such a caring bond.
But the thought had barely flitted through her head when she tripped to
a halt just outside the guestroom doorway. She could see Ben standing
next to the bed, using an ironclad control to get his jacket off, then
his shirt. The sight of his bare chest made her breath snag in her
throat.
He was beautiful, like a statue, finely carved of smooth, bronzed skin
over muscle. His shoulders were wide, his waist trim and washboard
hard. Even after a week in the hospital, he was still amazing.
Gingerly, he lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed as he tried
to work off his pants. The grimace of pain brought her out of her
reverie. Guilt pushed at sexual awareness.
Without a word or a knock, she opened the door wide like a grand dame
entering stage right. "Why
didn't you tell me you needed help?"
He jerked his head up. "Because I don't need any," he bit out. What
little niceness he had shown earlier was gone completely. "Just get
out."
"That tone might send some weak-spined individuals running for the
hills, but you forget who you're talking to."
He actually groaned at this and hung his head. She had seen his brother
do that a time or two when
Chloe had done something particularly annoying.
"That's right. I'm Julia Boudreaux, a woman used to getting what she
wants."
She went for his belt buckle.
He grabbed her hand.
The strength was solid, but surprising gentle considering he clearly
didn't want her touching him.
"You're good at that, aren't you, cupcake?"
If he meant to embarrass her, he had the wrong girl.
"As a matter of fact, I am. And I will refrain from calling you
beefcake again since it makes me cringe
to think the word, much less say it. Now get your hands out of the way.
You don't have anything I haven't seen before."
Though that wasn't altogether true since she really had felt an
astounding .. . piece of steel... in his 501s the day she had done her
best to shock him when she pretended to play Doctor. But she wasn't
about
to tell him that. She could just see the strut of arrogance that would
cause.
His eyes narrowed and she was almost certain he growled.
"I can do it," he repeated.
"Sure, sure." She ignored him. "Let's start with your boots. We'll work
up to the belt."
After a second, it was like he didn't have the energy left to fight and
he fell back on the mattress, his boots still planted on the floor. She
grabbed first one, tugged, ughed, then finally had to turn around
and straddle his leg in order to remove it.
"Success!" she whelped, lurching forward in her stilettos when the boot
came loose.
When she finally had both boots lined up against the wall, she was
almost certain his face had broken
out in a sweat.
Hmmm. Yet another bad sign. Nurse really didn't figure into her skill
set.
"Let me get your jeans off."
"I can do the rest."
"Are you insane?"
He muttered. "I'll sleep in my pants."
She stepped back and smiled at him. "Isn't that sweet. Our hunky bad
boy is shy."
"I'll show you shy."
It happened so fast that she barely had time to register what he was
doing. By the time she had, she
was lying flat on her back, Ben on top of her. She barely registered
his grimace of pain for the feel
of him pressed against her.
"Oh," she managed over the rapid beat of her heart.
She couldn't begin to explain what this man did to her. His body had an
unerring ability to undo her.
He, on the other hand, was an entirely different story.
But right that second she wasn't thinking about personalities. She felt
the hard press against her thigh and desire slid through her, making a
very convincing case that there were times when personalities could or
should be ignored. Just looking at Ben Prescott, she'd bet the house he
could make her purr like a kitten. And maybe, she reasoned, having a
tiny little taste of what he had to offer wouldn't be so bad...
In the game of love, being shy gets you nowhere...
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Award-winning author Linda Francis Lee is a native Texan now callingNew York City home. She lives
in Manhattan with her husband, Michael. Her romance novels have been
nominated for numerous awards, including the prestigious RITA Award.
Looking for Lacey, a national bestseller, is the first of several books
set in her Texas hometown.
Other books
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Dark and Bloody Ground by Darcy O'Brien
DeadBorn by C.M. Stunich
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The Girl Born of Smoke by Jessica Billings
A Small Country by Siân James