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One Breathless Night
Jo Leigh
Countdown to trouble in 3, 2, 1…Jenna Delaney has her life all mapped out–work, fiancé, financial plan. But when the clock strikes midnight on New Year's Eve, Jenna's best-laid plans disappear. Instead, she finds herself lip-locked with the hunkiest of all hot male strangers. And whoa, serious fireworks. The kind that make a girl plan on how to get best laid!Rick Sinclair is blown away by the sheer force of their chemistry, especially when they end up at his borrowed high-tech "smart" apartment. Except that this apartment seems to know just how to set up a seduction…because suddenly Jenna is in Rick's bed. And this one breathless night could take them anywhere…
Countdown to trouble in 3...2...1...
Jenna Delaney has her life all mapped out—work, fiancé, financial plan. But when the clock strikes midnight on New Year’s Eve, Jenna’s best-laid plans disappear. Instead, she finds herself lip-locked with the hunkiest of all hot male strangers. And whoa, serious fireworks. The kind that make a girl plan on how to get best laid!
Rick Sinclair is blown away by the sheer force of their chemistry, especially when they end up at his borrowed high-tech “smart” apartment. Except that this apartment seems to know just how to set up a seduction...because suddenly Jenna is in Rick’s bed. And this one breathless night could take them anywhere...
“It’s the start of a whole new year...”
“Hmm,” Rick said as he tugged the duvet over them. “In all the drama I forgot about that. We’re off to an interesting start.”
“Yes, very interesting.” She realized something else...she wasn’t cold anymore. But she snuggled closer just the same. “Care to make it even more interesting?” she murmured, equal parts thrilled and alarmed to see his eyes darken.
Rick grinned. “I’m a storm chaser. I’m always game for more,” he said and stroked her cheek. “Are you sure, though?”
“Oh, Rick...” Jenna studied his handsome face. “I’m going to regret a lot of things about this night. But none of them are you.”
He shifted close enough that their bare legs tangled. And when she leaned in for one of his steamy kisses, he met her more than halfway.
No hint of shyness, no reluctance. Her hands were on his back, on his sides, exploring.
His free hand cupped her breast, and all was right with the world.
Dear Reader (#ulink_feeded89-414d-583c-8fa5-9e2c6dd99d78),
New Year’s Eve is a great holiday. No gifts are demanded, it’s practically illegal not to have a drink, it feels fantastic to forget what went wrong the past year and believe that the coming year is going to be your best one ever.
What is never supposed to happen, not even as a joke, is to find your fiancé in the hallway kissing his former college girlfriend at the stroke of midnight.
It doesn’t just suck for Jenna Delaney, who has come with her betrothed to the same James Bond costume party in downtown Boston for the fifth year in a row. It’s also a pretty major kick in the heart to Rick Sinclair, the boyfriend of the woman kissing Jenna’s fiancé. Especially since Rick was going to propose at midnight.
The odds of Jenna and Rick getting snowed in together at a very swanky “smart” apartment in the heart of Boston are slim, and the chance that their heartbreak could turn into something better is off the charts. But love finds a way.
I hope you’ll find Jenna and Rick as funny, bright and sexy as I did, and that you’ll look for the next books in the Three Wicked Nights trilogy. All three heroes were best friends at MIT, and the smart apartment...the really smart apartment...belongs to their friend Sam, who’s asked the guys to test the surprising tricks and treats they’ll discover during their very wicked nights in Boston.
I’d love to hear from you! You can catch me as @Jo_Leigh (https://twitter.com/jo_leigh) on Twitter and at jomk.tumblr.com (http://www.jomk.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!
Jo Leigh
One Breathless Night
Jo Leigh
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
JO LEIGH is from Los Angeles and always thought she’d end up living in Manhattan. So how did she end up in Utah in a tiny town with a terrible internet connection, being bossed around by a houseful of rescued cats and dogs? What the heck, she says, predictability is boring. Jo has written more than forty-five novels for Harlequin. Visit her website at joleigh.com (http://www.joleigh.com) or contact her at joleigh@joleigh.com.
Contents
Cover (#uc92c0a4a-6ea9-54ec-b89b-6804f70cb0c0)
Back Cover Text (#u2cce6c8b-9abd-52f2-9393-335241517da7)
Introduction (#uea5446c2-6973-520f-80d2-070dd912e297)
Dear Reader (#u3dfb408f-3c83-50bd-a9fa-56515283e58f)
Title Page (#u1c76d51b-c1c6-5ff2-9eec-0def207d3bdc)
About the Author (#u7f6342f5-5512-5c7f-8493-cf785abbdb3d)
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Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
1 (#ulink_de1070bc-78f3-5b6d-9a23-5704367248f4)
“GUESS HOW MANY James Bonds there are in this room right now.” Jenna Delaney tugged up her neckline as she watched the Bonds interact. Some were short, some rotund, some blond; quite a few had the beginnings of beer bellies. But they were all clearly dressed as the one and only Double O Seven.
Jenna and her friend Mindy were stationed perfectly: close enough to the New Year’s Eve buffet table that they could nibble all they wanted, yet still have a great view of the reunion suite. “Ten? Twelve?” Mindy shook her head. “I give up. How many are there?”
“They’re all Bonds,” Jenna said. “Every single man here. All they had to do for their costume was rent a tux. That’s it. Unless they already owned one, which would have made it even easier. Meanwhile I, silly fool that I am, shelled out big bucks for Mimco bloodred lipstick, OPI blackish-purplish nail polish that’s the perfect shade but hideous, a necklace that looks like a noose, nearly cried putting my hair up in this awful twist and I’m wearing a dress that is far too revealing, just to match the outfit Vesper Lynd wore in Casino Royale.”
“You looked all that stuff up, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did. All the Bond girls have their own wikis.” Jenna took her cosplay as seriously as she did her job teaching middle school English.
“Bless your heart,” Mindy said, lifting a brie-covered cracker to her mouth. “I stole my costume from the men’s playbook. None of it’s new. I put it together using stuff from my own closet.”
Jenna eyed her friend’s black blouse and slacks. “That’s supposed to be a costume?”
Mindy nodded as she chewed.
“So what are you? A background extra?”
“Don’t be silly. I’m Judi Dench’s ‘M.’”
Jenna turned to face her now. “But she wasn’t a redhead.”
Mindy grinned wickedly. “I’m M in disguise.”
Jenna laughed.
“For what it’s worth, you look sensational.” Mindy looked her up and down, and then zeroed in on her neckline. “Well, you would if you’d quit trying to hide your breasts.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been tugging on your top all night. You’re not showing off that much, you Victorian prude, you. Look around. There are women here who are barely clothed, for God’s sake. It’s a James Bond–themed party.” Mindy reached over and tugged down Jenna’s top an inch. “It’s called a plunging neckline for a reason. Why didn’t you just come as Miss Moneypenny?”
Jenna clutched her bodice. “I have. Three times, as you well know.”
“Right. Because we come here every freaking year. There are things to do all over Boston. I mean, it’s New Year’s Eve and First Night, yet every year, we get stuck coming to the same old party. It’s criminal, all that we’re missing. It’s not being disloyal to their alma mater if we want to see other things, too.”
They were Jenna’s fiancé and Mindy’s husband, both graduates of Boston University. “You have a very good point.” Jenna picked up what looked to be a salmon puff. “It’s time to expand our repertoire. Just...Payton has the whole routine down—”
“Tough.” Mindy might not look like M, but right now she sure sounded like her. “I like you guys a lot, but I’ve had it. No more parties where we have to play dress-up. If the guys miss our skimpy outfits, they can wear them.”
Jenna laughed until she realized her hand was still covering her décolletage. It wasn’t as if her boobs were big enough to cause a stir. And she never used to be a prude. But then she’d started teaching twelve-year-olds. And dating Payton. Not that he made her a prude, but they did go to a lot of functions for his ultraconservative accounting firm, and she had learned to dress and act the part. She let her hand drop and straightened her back. “Okay, next year, you make the plans. I’m sure Payton will get on board.”
Mindy raised one eyebrow. “And if he doesn’t?”
“He will. Where are they, anyway?”
Mindy made a face. “Probably tucked in a corner somewhere discussing the newest thrilling tax requirements.”
Zane, Mindy’s husband, had not only gone to BU two years ahead of Payton, but he was also an accountant at the same firm. Jenna liked the couple a lot but they really only saw each other at events like these. They lived in a different suburb, and both Mindy and Jenna worked full-time.
“Have you seen him?” Mindy nodded toward a tall, dark-haired man standing at the other end of the buffet.
“Who? Oh. I hadn’t, no. But I... He’s...good-looking.”
Mindy nabbed a chocolate-dipped strawberry, now that they’d moved the few steps over to the dessert section. “Good-looking? That’s like saying the Mona Lisa is a nice painting.”
“Okay, fine. He’s gorgeous,” Jenna said. “Honestly, I stopped listening to you the moment I saw him.”
“You’re forgiven. I mean, he actually looks like James Bond. Better than Daniel Craig, if you ask me.”
Jenna nodded, even though she knew Mindy wasn’t looking. “He must be a swimmer. Right? That’s a swimmer’s body.”
“I don’t know. I think runner. No. Martial arts,” she said, her voice lowering an octave.
“Hmm. Quite possibly,” Jenna said in a British accent.
Mindy laughed. “I’m sending him a telepathic message to take off his jacket.”
“While you’re at it, you might as well ask him to take everything else off, too.”
“That seems greedy.”
Jenna was giggling now. “Oh, damn, he’s with someone.”
“So are we.”
“Of course we are. I’m just window-shopping. Ah, his girlfriend’s beautiful.”
“I never did like blondes.” Mindy eyed Jenna for a second. “You’d look good with him,” she said. Then she started loading a plate with petits fours.
Jenna laughed. She scooped up a bite-size brownie, while scoping out the rest of the goodies, ignoring everything that wasn’t chocolate.
‘He looks...dangerous,” Mindy said. “If only he’d take off that damn jacket. Let us see what he’s got under the hood.”
Jenna looked up from the buffet table and stared at her friend, who was unashamedly checking out the guy.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he was hiding a Walther PPK.”
Almost choking on the brownie, Jenna cleared her throat and said, “I thought that sentence would end in a completely different way.”
Mindy’s eyes lit up as she turned to Jenna. “I take back the Victorian comment. And give you extra points for the classiest way of subverting the ‘is that a gun in your pocket’ joke I’ve ever heard.”
“That’s me. Classy as—oh, crap, he’s coming closer.”
