Just Friends?
He woke to the sight of a strange man standing in his bedroom.
"Son of a—" Evan Taggart sat bolt upright, grabbing the bedding around his waist even as realization hit that the young guy with the lumberjack's build wasn't entirely a stranger. Nor was the red eye of the television camera the guy held entirely a surprise, either.
He stifled the ripe curse on his lips just in time to keep it from being captured for all eternity—or at least the viewing life of a certain cable television reality show. "I've never been videotaped in bed, with a woman or without, Ted," he said grimly, "and I'll be damned if we're going to start here and now."
Ted Richard's grin was visible thanks to the annoying light he'd erected on a metal stand next to the bed, but he still didn't lower the camera. "The producer would be a lot happier if you did have a woman under those sheets. Marian would figure it'd be good for ratings."
Evan wasn't amused. "How did you get in here?" "Leandra always says Weaver is so safe that nobody ever locks anything. Guess she was right."
Leandra.
Evan should have known. He squelched another oath, this t ... read full excerpt from Just Friends? ebook
