Caught
Manhattan
Friday, May 5, 1:00 a.m.
"GOOD LORD." Alex Spencer rolled onto his back, gasping for breath, heart hammering against his chest. "No more Asian sex manuals for you, woman. You've ruined me."
"I've ruined you?" Julia Covington managed through her own heavy breathing.
With her dark hair tumbled loose and wild around her shoulders and her skin gleaming pale in the light from her entryway, she looked like some odalisque in a seventeenth-century painting — beautiful, tempting and thoroughly addictive. Even now, looking at her made him dry-mouthed with desire.
If he'd been thinking straight, he'd have been worried. Then again, he'd hardly thought straight once since that evening she'd appeared at the museum fund-raiser in a flame-hot red dress that had left nothing to the imagination. The dry, serious Ms. Covington, who never appeared in anything but utterly simple garments in shades of taupe, charcoal and cocoa, was suddenly a siren. He couldn't have said what had shocked him more — the dress or the fact that she'd left with him.
And every moment since had pretty much been a toss ... read full excerpt from: Caught ebook
