“I’ve been thinking about touching you all day,” Trey murmured
He gently teased at her nipple through her silk blouse.
Libby thought back to the night they’d spent together twelve years ago, to the trust he’d broken. If she let him touch her again, then she’d be doomed to suffer that humiliation all over again.
“Please don’t do this to me,” she begged.
“What is this, Libby? Just because you deny the desire between us, it isn’t going to go away.” Trey took her face between his hands and kissed her. “I was there in your bed the other night,” he murmured against her mouth. “I know what I made you feel.”
She drew a ragged breath and backed out of his embrace. “That was lust,” Libby said, her voice thin and tight. “One night was enough.”
He stared into her eyes, as if searching her soul for answers. “One night every twelve years? Hell, if that’s all I can hope for, then I guess I’ll see you in another twelve.” Then he turned and walked out.
Dear Reader,
I’ve traveled back to the South for the setting of my newest Harlequin Temptation novel, Hot & Bothered. And while you might be reading this book on a warm summer day, it was written in the midst of a snowy Wisconsin winter.
Trey Marbury and Libby Parrish are caught in both a meteorological heat wave and a heat wave of their own making in the fictional town of Belfort, South Carolina. Those of you familiar with the Low Country might recognize the real town that Belfort is based upon, although I’m not sure that a real Southern town would have quite so many charming and eccentric characters living within its limits. Or maybe it would. Maybe that’s exactly what I love so much about the South.
In any case, I hope you enjoy the ideas Trey and Libby come up with to beat the heat….
Happy reading,
Kate Hoffmann
Books by Kate Hoffmann
HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION
795—ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT
821—MR. RIGHT NOW
847—THE MIGHTY QUINNS: CONNOR
851—THE MIGHTY QUINNS: DYLAN
855—THE MIGHTY QUINNS: BRENDAN
933—THE MIGHTY QUINNS: LIAM
937—THE MIGHTY QUINNS: BRIAN
941—THE MIGHTY QUINNS: SEAN
963—LEGALLY MINE
Hot & Bothered
Kate Hoffmann
Contents
Prologue
A BUMBLEBEE BUZZED in lazy circles around a potted jasmine, the sound breaking the silence of the oppressive midday heat. A few steps away on the wide veranda of the house on Charles Street, the Throckmorton sisters stirred the heavy afternoon air with rice-paper fans. A silver tray rested on the table between their two wicker chairs, holding a pitcher of iced tea and two sweaty glasses.
“We’re doomed,” Eulalie Throckmorton said, her fan fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird.
Eudora Throckmorton took in the morose expression on her twin sister’s face and sighed. “It’s just the heat, Lalie. When I’m drenched in perspiration, I don’t feel like chatting. Neither do the rest of the ladies of the Thursday Ladies’ Bridge and Luncheon Club.”
“But it was as quiet as a Quaker wake.”
Eudora shifted in her chair. “If you’d just agree to install air-conditionin’ in the house, then we wouldn’t have this problem. Grace Rose Alston just had air-conditionin’ put in her house and she says it’s been a godsend with this mid-summer heat.”
“We don’t need air-conditionin’, Dora. We have this lovely veranda. Mama and Papa lived here for over fifty years and they never had air-conditionin’. Besides, we’d just shut ourselves up in the house and never see our neighbors strolling by. Out here, we’re part of the world. Good gracious, if I wanted to live in the cool and dark, I’d run down to Wilbur Varner’s funeral home, buy myself a nice coffin and move in next to Mama and Papa at the cemetery.”
“There’s no need to get all dramatic about it,” Eudora replied. “I swear, you’ve always had a way of pilin’ on the agony. You should have taken up a career on the stage. You could have given that Driving Miss Daisy lady a run for her money.”
“And you should be sellin’ gadgets on the Home Shopping Network, with your fondness for new-fangled inventions. Need I remind you that we have an electric juicer sittin’ in our kitchen that you’ve never even used?”
“Air-conditionin’ is not a new-fangled invention,” Eudora countered. “Some would argue it’s a necessity in the heat of a South Carolina summer. And we are approachin’ an age where personal comfort is all we can look forward to on a good day.”
“Let’s be honest, Dora. It isn’t our lack of a temperature-controlled environment that will spell the end of our beloved bridge club. It’s the shortage of decent gossip. There’s just nothin’ left to talk about in this backwater town!”
The Thursday Ladies’ Bridge and Luncheon Club was nearly a century old. Founded by Eulalie and Eudora’s grandmother and a group of her friends, members were all prominent
