Praise for Kelly Hunter
‘Hunter’s emotionally rich tale will make
readers laugh and cry along with the characters.
A truly fantastic read.’
—RT Book Reviews on
Revealed: A Prince and a Pregnancy
‘This is a dynamite story of a once-forbidden
relationship, featuring two terrific characters who have to deal with the past before they can finally be together.’
—RT Book Reviews on
Exposed: Misbehaving with the Magnate
‘This story starts out on a light, fun and flirty
note and spins into an emotional and heartfelt tale about coming to terms with the past and embracing the future.’
—RT Book Reviews on
Playboy Boss, Live-In Mistress
About the Author
Accidentally educated in the sciences, KELLY HUNTER has always had a weakness for fairytales, fantasy worlds, and losing herself in a good book. Husband … yes. Children … two boys. Cooking and cleaning … sigh. Sports … no, not really—in spite of the best efforts of her family. Gardening … yes. Roses, of course. Kelly was born in Australia and has travelled extensively. Although she enjoys living and working in different parts of the world, she still calls Australia home.
Kelly’s novels Sleeping Partner and Revealed: A Prince and a Pregnancy were both finalists for the Romance Writers of America RITA® Award, in the Best Contemporary Series Romance category!
Visit Kelly online at www.kellyhunter.net.
Recent titles by the same author:
CRACKING THE DATING CODE
THE MAN SHE LOVES TO HATE
WITH THIS FLING …
RED-HOT RENEGADE
UNTAMEABLE ROGUE
REVEALED: A PRINCE AND A PREGNANCY
EXPOSED: MISBEHAVING WITH THE MAGNATE
PLAYBOY BOSS, LIVE-IN MISTRESS
THE MAVERICK’S GREEK ISLAND MISTRESS
SLEEPING PARTNER
Did you know these are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
The One That Got Away
Kelly Hunter
PROLOGUE
THERE were limits—but Logan couldn’t remember what they were.
He lay on the bed, stripped-out and trembling, his body screaming out for oxygen and his brain not working at all. The woman splayed beneath him looked in no better condition. Boneless in the aftermath, just the occasional twitch to remind them that there was substance there, the shallow rise and fall of her chest that accompanied her breathing.
He looked to her skin; it had been flawless when he undressed her but it was flawless no more. There were marks on it now from his fingers and from the sandpapery skin of his jaw. Marks on her wrists and her waist and the silky-soft underside of her jaw.
He’d met her in a bar; that much he could remember. Some student hangout near the hotel he was staying at. This hotel. This was his room; he’d brought her back here. She’d given him her number but that hadn’t been enough for him. The hotel nearby. He’d walked her back to it. Invited her back to his room.
And those golden eyes had seen straight through to his soul and she’d tilted her lips towards his and told him to take what he wanted, all he wanted, and more. And he’d done so and discovered himself utterly in thrall.
‘Hey,’ he said gruffly, and reached out to drag his thumb across her stretched and swollen lips. Their last close encounter had been the wrong side of rough, and he felt the shame of it now, the black edge of guilt encroaching on the insane pleasure that had gone before. ‘You okay?’
She opened her eyes for him, and, yeah, she was okay. He smoothed her inky-black hair away from her face, tucked it behind her ear, combed it back from her temple. He couldn’t stop touching her. Such a beautiful face.
He stroked her hair back, smoothed his hand over the curve of her shoulder. ‘Can I get you anything?’ he offered. ‘Glass of water? Room service? Shower’s yours if that’s what you want.’ Whatever she wanted, all she had to do was ask.
And she looked at him and her lips kicked up at the corners and she said, ‘Whatever you just did to me … whatever that was—I want more.’
CHAPTER ONE
‘YOU could marry me,’ said Max Carmichael as he stared at the civic centre drawings on Evie’s drawing table. The drawings were his, and very fine they were indeed. The calculations and costings were Evie’s doing, and those costings were higher—far higher—than anything she’d ever worked on before.
Evie stopped chewing over the financials long enough to spare her business partner of six years a glance. Max was an architect, and a visionary one at that. Evie was the engineer—wet blanket to Max’s more fanciful notions. Put them together and good things happened.
Though not always. ‘Are you talking to me?’
‘Yes, I’m talking to you,’ said Max with what he clearly thought was the patience of a saint. ‘I need access to my trust fund. To get access to my trust fund I either have to turn thirty or get married. I don’t turn thirty for another two years.’
‘I have two questions for you, Max. Why me and why now?’
‘The “why you” question is easy: (a), I don’t love you and you don’t love me—’
Evie studied him through narrowed eyes.
‘—which will make divorcing you in two years’ time a lot easier. And (b), It’s in MEP’s best interest that you marry me.’ MEP stood for Max and Evangeline Partnership, the construction company they’d formed six years ago. ‘We’re going to need deep pockets for this one, Evie.’ Max tapped the plans spread out before them.
She’d been telling him this
