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“So how exactly do you plan to teach me about erotica?” Bryce asked
Joan squirmed nervously in her seat. “I was just pondering my lesson plan,” she murmured. “I think we’ll need to take a hands-on approach. Very hands-on.”
Her words washed over him like a caress. Bryce slid his hand over hers, twining their fingers. Then he lifted their joined hands and pressed a slow kiss to her fingers. It was time to get their school for scandal under way. “I’m ready for class to begin.”
She shivered, a slight tremor that brought him tremendous satisfaction. “Soon,” she said, closing her eyes. He brought the tip of one finger into his mouth, his tongue spiraling around her soft skin. Her breath hitched. “Very soon,” she whispered.
His teeth grazed lightly over her finger as he slipped the digit free, then pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “Good,” he said. “Just so you know, I always ace my classes.”
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MILLS & BOON
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J. KENNER has always loved stories—reading them, watching them on television and on the silver screen, and making them up herself. She studied film before attending law school, but knew that her real vocation lay in writing the kind of books she loves to read. She lives in Texas with her husband, two daughters and several cats.
For Brenda.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
1
THE LITTLE BELL above the door of Archer’s Rare Books & Manuscripts jingled as Jack Parker slipped out the door and into the dark. Joan Benetti looked on, amused and, if truth be told, a little sad. After almost a year of marriage, Veronica Archer Parker, her boss and friend, was about to follow her husband out the door and head off on her belated honeymoon.
How cool was that?
Joan sighed. Pretty damn cool, actually. For years, Joan had done the New York singles thing, hopping from bar to bar and guy to guy. It had been a hoot and a half, no doubt about that, but now…well, maybe now it was time to get serious. And not just about a man. About a lot of things. Lately Joan had been using Veronica’s life as a mirror, and over and over Joan had found her own reflection wanting.
“Hey?” Veronica—Ronnie, as everyone called her—tapped a fingernail on the glass display counter, her voice pulling Joan from her reverie. “You in there?”
Joan looked up, manufacturing a grin. “Of course. I’m just tired. This four in the morning thing sucks.”
Ronnie laughed. “Can’t help it. The plane leaves at six and I needed to grab a few things from the office. But you didn’t have to get up.”
Joan yawned, the talk of sleep making her tired all over again. “I didn’t get up. I was already up.” She was temporarily living in Ronnie’s old apartment above the bookstore, so she’d thought she might as well come down when she heard Jack and Ronnie come in for the reference books and notes Ronnie was taking with her to Paris and London. The honeymoon was a working trip, but Jack didn’t seem to mind.
“Awake all night,” Ronnie said, her expression amused. “And what does this one do?”
Joan rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t with a guy.”
Ronnie’s brow furrowed. “But it’s Saturday night. Well, Sunday morning.”
“Yeah? So?” Joan knew she sounded defensive, but she couldn’t help it. Instead of dating, she’d spent the weekend reading and thinking. Big, sweeping life thoughts. “Who-Am-I and What-Should-I-Do-With-My-Life” type questions. Ones best pondered in the dark with a Nina Simone CD and a bottle of merlot. Of course, while she was pondering in the dark, she’d missed flirting with Roy, the DJ at Xylo’s, and she’d really missed the bar’s famous chocolate martinis. But, for the most part, she’d enjoyed her weekend alone. Well, okay, so it was only one night alone, but still… She’d made some important decisions, and that was the key.
Ronnie shrugged. “It’s no big deal,” she said. “I just assumed you’d have a date.”
“Yeah, well, I’m on hiatus.” Joan grinned, then waved to Jack who’d stepped back inside. Ronnie moved easily into his arms, and Joan felt that little tug at her heart again.
The truth was, it was Ronnie’s impending honeymoon that had kick-started Joan’s meditative mood. Jack had rolled out the fairy-tale golden coach for Ronnie and he was whisking her off to the ball. And as far as Joan could tell, Ronnie’s coach showed no signs of turning back into a pumpkin.
That was the trouble with all of Joan’s dates. Trey, Andy, Martin, Jim—and all
