He…was…gorgeous
Not too much hair on his chest. And he had to be into lifting weights to get rounded pecs like that. Such perfection couldn’t be achieved any other way.
The hard ground sloped to the edge of the river, though not as much as Karrie would’ve liked for privacy. Rob found a small boulder and drew her behind it, the surface hot with the desert’s broiling sun.
“You gonna take that off?” Rob asked, cocking one eyebrow, indicating her T-shirt.
“Silly me.” She returned his smile and pulled up the hem of her shirt, but then teasingly dropped it again.
Rob laughed. “So that’s how it is.” He caught her around the waist.
Giggling, Karrie twisted and wiggled, but couldn’t stop him from getting hold of her top and pulling it over her head. She stumbled backward but caught her balance, still chuckling.
But Rob wasn’t laughing anymore. His hungry gaze roamed her breasts, her bare midriff. By the time his eyes met hers, her nipples had tightened.
“Come here” was all he had to say….
Dear Reader,
Wow, has time flown by!
This is my sixth Blaze novel. Meanwhile, it feels like only last month that I first learned of the sexy, hot new series being introduced by Harlequin. It took me all of two seconds to say I wanted in. And I quickly put my imagination to work. What I’ve enjoyed most are the strong, confident, “bring-it-on” heroines I get to write about. In Good To Be Bad, which is set in my own backyard of Las Vegas, my heroine, Karrie Albright, knows what she wants—her former professor. Once she’s set her sights on him, he doesn’t stand a chance. Sheesh, if only I’d been that confident….
I hope you enjoy Karrie and Rob’s adventure!
Best,
Debbi Rawlins
Good To Be Bad
Debbi Rawlins
This one’s for Vicky, Iona and Karl, my inherited family and the best stepchildren I could have. But just remember, y’all are too old to call me Mom.
Contents
Prologue
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
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Prologue
KARRIE ALBRIGHT LOOKED AROUND the crowded living room of the impeccably decorated SoHo brownstone and wondered again what the hell she was doing here. Another Friday night, another party with meaningless chitchat, vague passes from men who’d sell their own mothers for a decent day at the brokerage and scathing looks from women who wouldn’t be caught dead in anything less than designer labels.
The saving grace was, of course, that she was here with Madison. Karrie had never quite figured out why the two of them kept getting invited to these soirees, given that neither of them were terribly hip, they preferred jeans to Dolce & Gabbana, and they weren’t in the same hemisphere when it came to income, but about two years ago, they’d hooked up with marvelously witty book editor Nancy Kragen, and they’d been included ever since.
It was great to have a regular social outlet, and they’d met some terrific women and a few nice men, but lately, the parties had been, well, getting stale.
“You don’t believe in this nonsense, do you?” Madison asked, her gaze focused on the door to Sonya’s bedroom.
“Of course not.”
The door opened and Karrie ducked to get a look at the infamous Madam Zora. Last month, one of the girls had had a candle party, the month before that, Madison’s friend Elizabeth had thrown a roll-your-own-sushi night. But this had to be the weakest get-together of the year. A psychic? Please. “Are you going to sign up for a reading?”
Madison rolled her eyes. “I’m not wasting my time.”
“As if you have anything better to do.” Karrie cast a dismal gaze around the room. Women outnumbered the eligible men by three to one. She loved Manhattan but this was getting old. “Come on. We’re here. I can’t bear to go home yet. You know what night this is, right?”
“Ah, yes. The ever-popular Mr. Warzowski’s night for screaming at his wife as he goes through two cases of Rolling Rock beer.”
“You’ve gotta love three-floor walk-ups with paper-thin walls.”
“That are more expensive than most five-bedroom houses in any other state.”
“But at least the heat doesn’t work in the winter and there’s none of that noisy air-conditioning in the summer.”
Madison nodded and had another big sip of martini. “Girlfriend, it’s tough for us young, gorgeous career gals.”
Karrie’s eyebrows rose. “Gorgeous?” It was true for Madison, of course, with her willowy figure and stunning blond hair. Karrie herself never considered her own looks to be anything more than passable. Her saving grace was that she didn’t have to fight the weight battle too much, and that her hair wasn’t a disaster, but her mouth was too big, her eyes not big enough, and of course, being around the professionally beautiful women in New York could bruise anyone’s ego.
“Hey,” Madison said, “if we can’t play pretend, I really am leaving.”
“Which is exactly why we’re going to see Madam Zora.”
“Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes. You and I. Together.”
Madison
