“Would you like me to go deeper?”
“Yes.” She could almost feel the pressure of his fingers—right where tension was coiled tightest at the center of her body. She wanted—no, she needed—to be touched right there, at the farthest point.
“I’m going deeper, Sierra.”
Ryder’s voice was so low, and in response to the words every muscle in her body strained toward the climax, which built and built until the release shot through her in one long, widening wave of pleasure that went on and on.
Reality trickled back in bits and pieces. Her breath was coming in short gasps, and she was still standing, thanks to the solid door at her back. She felt…weak, but…wonderful.
Then Sierra became aware of her surroundings. She was standing in the doorway of a shop in the middle of Georgetown and she’d just…
“Sierra?”
She’d just…he’d just… Some of the heat in her body flooded her cheeks. My God, she’d just had phone sex! And it was the best sex she’d ever had….
Dear Reader,
I love to write stories about strong women who find the courage to take risks. And creating the RISKING IT ALL miniseries for Harlequin Blaze has allowed me to do just that—three times.
Psychologist Sierra Gibbs, the youngest of triplet sisters, has lived all of her life on the sidelines. Up until now, romance and adventure were things she experienced only vicariously in books and films. As for great sex—well, so far she’s been researching that instead of getting any.
However, all that is about to change! Sierra is about to change. Inspired by her own curiosity and her sisters’ recent experiences, she’s determined to break out of the cocoon of academic life and embark on a sexual adventure of her own. How hard can it be? Using the same technique that has earned her two Ph.D.s, Sierra makes a list—a five-step plan to initiate a sexual adventure with a man.
But before she can even implement step one, she runs into a sexy, rugged stranger in a bar who kisses her senseless. Then she shocks herself by kissing him right back. Even more shocking, she’s tempted to toss out her list and cut straight to step five! That isn’t like her at all.
Can one kiss have the power to change a person? Sierra’s pretty sure that kind of transformation happens only in fairy tales. Still…the only way to really find out would be to kiss that stranger again…and again.
I hope you get a kick out of reading Sierra and Ryder’s story—and that you’ll want to read Natalie’s story (The Proposition—May) and Rory’s story (The Dare—June). For excerpts from these stories, contests and news of upcoming books, be sure to visit my Web site, www.carasummers.com.
Happy reading,
Cara Summers
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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To my editor Brenda Chin.
This is the seventeenth book we’ve worked on together.
You make me a better writer. Thanks for everything!
To my sister Janet. I can’t imagine my life without you.
And to sisters everywhere.
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
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Summer 1999
STEALING THE O’Malley necklace was going to be a challenge that would require all of the skills Harry Gibbs had honed to perfection over a long and successful career. The way Harry saw it, the risk itself was almost more important than whether or not he’d pull off the heist of what many in Ireland believed to be a national treasure.
Harry had done extensive research on both the family and Arden Castle, their ancestral home. The O’Malleys claimed they could trace their roots back to the Celts. The castle didn’t date back quite that far, but it was built like a fortress with high stone walls on three sides and a drop to the sea on the fourth. Harry planned to gain access by climbing up that cliff. He smiled at the thought.
When his horse shifted nervously beneath him, Harry lowered his binoculars and patted the animal’s neck, “Easy, Dracula.”
“That’s a nice horse.”
Startled, Harry turned to see a young woman with the greenest eyes he’d ever seen studying him through large, wire-framed glasses. She was slim, with a boyish build, and her long, straight hair was the rich shade of red that had been captured in all of the portraits Harry had found of the O’Malleys. He guessed her age at fourteen or fifteen, which meant she was probably Bridget, the youngest daughter of the current residents of the castle. And she’d sneaked up on him like a master thief. He couldn’t help but admire her for it.
“Dracula is a very nice horse,” Harry agreed with a smile. “Do you ride?”
The hand that she’d raised to pat the horse dropped without making contact. “No. I have asthma. I’m not even supposed to be out here on the hill. Too many allergens in the air.”
“Ah.” Harry nodded in understanding. “You’ve gone AWOL.”
“Yes.” She sent him the barest hint of a smile. “I do it quite a bit. You’re not supposed to be here, you know. The land is posted.”
Harry had thought that they’d get to that sooner or later. The sharpness and directness of the girl’s gaze reminded him a bit of his youngest daughter’s. Of course, Sierra was taller and her hair was Alice-in-Wonderland blond, but Sierra too had suffered from asthma, and her approach to life was as serious as this young woman’s seemed to be.
He tried his most charming smile. “I’m Harry Gibbs.”
She studied him for a moment and then moved closer to take his outstretched hand. “Bridget O’Malley.”
Harry lifted his brows. “One of the owners. I hope you aren’t going to report me to the authorities. There was a fence a ways back. Dracula and I were both irresistibly tempted.”
She met his gaze steadily. “I won’t tell. If I did, I’d have to admit I was here, wouldn’t I?” The small smile appeared again. “And if I could ride, I probably would have done the same.”
Harry tapped one finger to his riding hat. “Thank you, Bridget O’Malley. It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”
Her smile blossomed slowly, beautifully. “One favor.”
“Name it.”
“When you take that fence this time, think of me.”
“That I will.”
HARRY WAS still thinking of Bridget O’Malley that evening. He told himself that she’d stayed in his mind because she’d reminded him so forcibly of Sierra, and his youngest daughter had been weighing on his mind lately. He raised his snifter of cognac and took a sip, staring into the flames of the fire that he’d built. The cottage outside of Dublin was one of three places he kept, but it was the one he thought Sierra would like the most.
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