Jill Shalvis
Back In The Bedroom
Dear Reader,
Its Harlequin Temptations twentieth birthday and were ready to do some celebrating. After all, were young, were legal (well, almost) and were old enough to get into trouble! Who could resist?
Weve been publishing outstanding novels for the past twenty years, and there are many more where those came from. Dont miss upcoming books by your favorite authors: Vicki Lewis Thompson, Kate Hoffmann, Kristine Rolofson, Jill Shalvis and Leslie Kelly. And Harlequin Temptation has always offered talented new authors to add to your collection. In the next few months look for stories from some of these exciting new finds: Emily McKay, Tanya Michaels, Cami Dalton and Mara Fox.
To celebrate our birthday, were bringing back one of our most popular miniseries, Editors Choice. Whenever we have a book thats new, innovative, extraordinary, look for the Editors Choice flash. And the first ones out this month! In Cover Me, talented Stephanie Bond tells the hilarious tale of a native New Yorker who finds herself out of her element and loving it. Written totally in the first person, Cover Me is a real treat. And dont miss the rest of this months irresistible offerings-a naughty Wrong Bed book by Jill Shalvis, another installment of the True Blue Calhouns by Julie Kistler and a delightful Valentine tale by Kate Hoffmann.
So, come be a part of the next generation of Harlequin Temptation. We might be a little wild, but were having a whole lot of fun. And who knows-some of the thrill might rub off
Enjoy,
Brenda Chin
Associate Senior Editor
Harlequin Temptation
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
I love books where the hero and heroine are forced into proximity right from the get-go. So I really had fun with this heroine who walks into a burglary and ends up locked in a tiny room with a tall, gorgeous man without his clothes. Tessa and Reilly have one thing in common-they want out. Only, a little thing happens along the waythis almost unbearable attraction.
I feel really fortunate to be included in the twentieth anniversary along with some good friends. Happy birthday, Temptation!
Happy reading,
Jill Shalvis
P.S. I love to hear from readers! Visit my Web site at www.jillshalvis.com.
1
TESSA DELACANTRO ALWAYS PAID her taxes, ate at least one serving of fruit or veggies a day and generally was a rule follower. But that didnt mean she didnt yearn for adventure.
In fact, she yearned a lot.
It was why shed agreed to watch her bosss posh house in La Canada for the weekend while he took his latest fling to Cabo San Lucas.
Tessa had her own place but it didnt have ten thousand square feet or cable or even a degree of poshness, so she looked forward to living like the rich and famous for two nights. As an Art History major without a lot of prospects in the field, shed spent the past few years as an office clerk here and there, doing some accounting, doing some secretarial work, learning how to run Microsoft programs without crashing anyones system.
What she hadnt done was figure out how to work in any of that adventure and excitement she wanted, but this was California, Southern California, to boot. The land of opportunity. She was open to anything, and liked to keep her options free. She had high hopes for her latest job as a temp in an agency run by the colorful Eddie Ledger. The sharp, debonair, electrifying man had a myriad of businesses in his empire, most of which ran themselves, leaving him free to do things like go to Cabo on a whim.
She could get into that lifestyle. She parked her car at the top of Eddies long, curvy driveway, which protected the Tudor-style mansion from view of the street. It had a beautiful yellow-and-white front, with flowers everywhere, lining the grass and steps to the porch.
Letting herself in with the key Eddie had given her, she dropped her purse and keys on the tiled foyer that was bigger than her entire apartment and sighed. From here she could see the large living room and so many windows showing off stunning views of the Angeles Crest Mountains she felt a little dizzy.
Or maybe it was a lack of food. Shed come right from a long day of work and hadnt yet grabbed dinner, so she headed in, looking for the kitchen. Eddie wouldnt mind-her tall, dark and outrageously handsome boss had told her to help herself. He might be as sly as a fox and extremely fond of women, but when it came to his employees, he was sweet and warm and extremely kind.
The kitchen took her breath away. She took in the custom-made maple cabinetry, the granite counters and the Sub-Zero maple-faced fridge. The secret chef inside her salivated.
Her own kitchen could have fit inside the brand-spanking-new Russell six-burner range. If she wasnt so tired, shed run back out to the grocery store and get a bunch of exciting ingredients, then come back and cook away. Itd be fun if she had a date to cook for, but she didnt. Maybe shed call her sister to come over and theyd watch the new 007 movie. They could sigh and eat, eat and sigh
Her footsteps echoed as she crossed the granite tiles, warm from the setting sun beaming in through the myriad of windows here, too. She reached for the handle on the fridge, just to get a quick snack, but hesitated at the loud thump that definitely wasnt her stomach growling. With a frown, she headed out of the kitchen, back into the huge, open living room, and looked down the wide, oak-lined hallway that arched off to the left and vanished.
Someone was down there.
The maid, maybe, but Tessa wasnt sure Eddie had a maid. In any case, she wasnt going to take any chances. La Canada residents were snooty and into their privacy. This house was no exception. Heavily wooded and a bit secluded, she could scream until the cows came home and no one would hear. At home in Glendale-only a few minutes from here, but a world away as far as neighborhoods went-shed have grabbed her trusty baseball bat and the phone to call the police.
No baseball bat here, and at first glance around the fancy place, she couldnt even find a telephone. But shed seen plenty of horror flicks in her twenty-six years, and had no intention of being the stupid chick. Shed just get out of the house and then call the police.
The front door seemed extremely far away so she whirled to the sliding glass door behind her instead. But she stopped short when she remembered shed left her keys on the foyer floor with her purse. She needed those keys for an escape.
And then came another thump.
Spooked, she started running toward the foyer. Track had been her least-favorite sport, but she managed to move like lightning. Funny what fear did for motivation. Ten-thousand square feet was suddenly far too much space, and she felt grateful for her perpetual poverty and six-hundred square feet of closed-in apartment that would have only taken a blink of an eye to run through-
Excuse me.
The male voice sounded so polite, coming from behind her, that she actually stopped short and looked over her shoulder.
And faced a man carrying a DVD player. He looked to be twenty-something, and wore jeans and a grungy white thermal shirt on his large, beefy body. With a grimace, he set down the DVD player and straightened. Another visitor. Terrific. He cracked his knuckles and suddenly looked exceptionally big and menacing. He gestured with a jerk of his chin toward the back of the house. Okay, sweetcakes, lets go.
She took a step back and shook her head.
He sent a frustrated glance heavenward. Why me? Look, just tell me youre not a martial arts expert like the other guy.
She eyed the growing bruise on his cheekbone and took another careful step backward. Gee, only fifty more and shed make it. What are you doing here while Eddies out of town?
Im here to mess the place up. His voice was pure annoyance. A put-out bear of a man. And I get to take whatever I want while Im at it. Those are my orders. If hes out of town, so much the better.
G-go ahead, Illjust wait outside. She took another step, wondering if he could see that she was shaking like a leaf. Forty-nine more steps
He shook his big head. Dont even bother. We both know Im not going to let you go until Im done here and long gone, so Ill repeat myself. This way.
Step forty-eight-
Goddammit. He lumbered after her.
Whirling, she ordered her feet to move. Forty-seven, forty-six- An arm hooked around her neck, hauling her back against a rock-hard body, withholding her inherent right to breathe. She opened her mouth to scream, but he slapped a hand against her mouth and nose-she definitely wasnt breathing any time soon. Lifting her off her feet, he started walking.
Spots danced in front of her eyes. Out of pure desperation for air, she reached back and grabbed a handful of his hair.
Ouch! Holy shit, lady! He gripped her wrist and jerked it down, squeezing her neck at the same time.
Her head was going to pop right off. The spots blossomed into full Technicolor, and now she had an aching wrist to go with them as he dragged her along, back through the kitchen. Her life passed in front of her eyes; her mom and dad, her sister and brother, her cute little apartment where she cooked, read, livedand then without warning he let go of her and shoved.
She landed on a hard tile floor and spent a moment on her hands and knees concentrating on dragging air into her lungs. A door slammed and she jerked her head up. It was nearly dark outside now and there wasnt a light on in the small room she found herself in, which was maybe eight feet by eight feet. But there did appear to be a floodlight right outside the very small window on the far wall. Thank goodness for timers, she thought, and tried not to panic. Unlike the rest of the house, this room was gray and bare. The only piece of furniture in the place was a narrow cot-
Oh God. A narrow cot that was filled with the prone body of a man wearing nothing but black knit boxers. Long, sleek and powerful, there wasnt an inch of excess on him. Even in the meager light she could see he was sinewy, lean and hard, and she took him all in, including the myriad of interesting scars like the long, jagged one on his right pec, and another small puckered one-like a bullet wound?-low on his flat, corrugated belly.
Still breathing like a misused racehorse, still shaky, she stared at him as he groaned, slowly sat up and blinked.
So did she, because he was the spitting image of her boss-the forty-nine-year-old, gorgeous Eddie Ledger-only younger and far more serious than shed ever seen the perpetually smiling Eddie-