Jamie Denton - Heatwave

“I’m worried about you, Em. Is that such a crime?”

Never had Drew encountered such an exasperating, stubborn, sinfully sensual woman. His conscience told him to walk away now and keep going until he’d gained enough distance so he couldn’t look back.

What was it about this particular woman? Why, out of all the women he’d dated—and there’d been plenty—was she the one to make him forget his cardinal rule of absolutely no involvement?

Emily’s eyes darkened, the color reminding him of thunderclouds at midnight. Wild. Untamable. Worthy of a power he deeply respected. A hypnotic, sensual power she effortlessly and unconsciously wielded over him in ways he’d never imagined possible.

He dipped his head, but stopped before his lips brushed against hers. Her warm breath caressed his mouth.

“This is a mistake,” she whispered.

He waited for her to push him away. She didn’t.

“What’s life without a few mistakes along the way?”

She grinned, and her soft laughter made him smile. “Pretty darned boring.”

Dear Reader,

Have you ever had one of those days when just about everything goes wrong? No matter where you go or what you do, it seems as if a black cloud is following you?

Emily Dugan is having one of those days. In twenty-four hours her life is turned upside down by a series of events that would leave most of us struggling to catch our breath. So when she literally falls at the feet of scrumptious arson inspector Drew, the youngest of the three ultrasexy Perry brothers in my SOME LIKE IT HOT trilogy, she’s certain things have just gone from bad to…better?

Commitment-shy Drew is always game for a short-term relationship, and the hotter the better. But when sassy, seductive Emily keeps turning up the heat to rival the heat wave blanketing the city, even he has a hard time keeping his cool.

I hope you enjoy Drew and Emily’s steamy romance. And be sure to join me next month for Under Fire (Temptation #950), the final story in the SOME LIKE IT HOT trilogy. Until then…

Warmest regards,

Jamie Denton

HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION

708—FLIRTING WITH DANGER

748—THE SEDUCTION OF SYDNEY

767—VALENTINE FANTASY

793—RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

797—BREAKING THE RULES

857—UNDER THE COVERS

942—SLOW BURN*

HARLEQUIN BLAZE

10—SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY

41—SEDUCED BY THE ENEMY

Heatwave

Jamie Denton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For Stephanie

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

AS FAR AS Emily Dugan was concerned, New York City had the only decent cab drivers in the country. Case in point, the rude excuse for a cabbie who’d left her and her bags at the curb in front of the Norris Culinary Academy on the hottest day to hit Southern California in over a decade. Even at four in the afternoon, not so much as a whisper of an ocean breeze ruffled the palm trees high overhead, or dared to hint at the promise of relief from the blistering heatwave.

The thickening afternoon traffic on Santa Monica Boulevard whizzed past her as she fought back another wave of nausea. The last thing she wanted during her much-needed month-long vacation was another bout of the flu that had plagued her weeks ago, which had followed on the heels of the most wicked cold she’d ever suffered. She’d been looking forward to this visit with her grandmother for over a month. Nothing, she thought determinedly, not the flu or even the mess her life had unexpectedly become, was going to put a damper on a visit with Grandy. Besides, she had some big decisions to make. The relative peace and quiet would provide her ample opportunity to take the steps necessary to set her life back on track.

She pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly in an effort to quell another bout of nausea. Tugging up the handle on the largest suitcase, she piggybacked the matching smaller case, then slung her carry-on over her shoulder. An acrid scent filled the air, like wood smoke or maybe burning charcoal from a neighbor’s backyard barbecue, only nowhere near as pleasant.

Since the parking lot to the right of the building was vacant this late in the afternoon, Emily avoided the front entrance of the cooking school her grandmother had started nearly fifty years ago, and wheeled her luggage along the side to the house in back where Grandy still lived. The sight of chipped stucco and peeling paint on the side of the school building took her a little by surprise, as did the thin wisps of grass growing between the cracks in the concrete path. The Norris Culinary Academy had always been Grandy’s pride and joy, and for as long as Emily could remember, had been kept in nothing but pristine condition.

She reached the wooden gate and pulled the handle with her free hand. The hinges creaked, as if unaccustomed to movement. Dragging her luggage behind her, she pushed through the gate and stepped into the courtyard. She frowned as she did a quick glance around the area. The acrid scent of burnt…something, assaulted her. The wonderland where she’d played as a child retained a mere shadow of its former beauty.

Small patches of dark moss dotted the putti fountain in the courtyard’s center, while the small pond below stood bone-dry. Weeds choked the flower beds running along the front of the house. Even the large white plastic urns, usually filled to overflowing with petunias, portulaca or begonias, housed nothing more than the shriveled remains of their original inhabitants.

Something was definitely wrong, but when she’d spoken to Grandy on the phone two days ago to reconfirm their plans, everything had appeared to be the same as always. Never had Emily expected to find the property in such a state of neglect.

She maneuvered her luggage up the two brick steps of the porch to the house and knocked on the door. The only sound came from the distant traffic on the boulevard behind her, and the gentle hum from the central air conditioning unit one of her uncles had installed for Grandy a couple of years ago. Emily didn’t hear a sound from the television or one of her grandmother’s Big-Band-era CDs, which Grandy often played while puttering around her house. Absolute silence.

Perhaps she’d gone out for the afternoon, but that, too, was highly unlikely. Her grandmother, a creature of habit, reserved errands and shopping for Saturday mornings. Emily decided to check the garage first, then she’d unearth the key hidden on the porch and let herself inside to wait.

She parked her luggage in the shade of the porch, then turned and found herself looking into the most stunning pair of sea-green eyes this side of heaven. Alarm skidded down her spine. She’d been so absorbed in her concern, she hadn’t even heard anyone behind her, something a New Yorker never did. She must be more upset by the recent and completely unexpected turn of events in her life than she realized.