Michele Dunaway - About Last Night...

“I really need to talk to you,” Shane said. “I have no memory of last night.

“The last thing I remember is calling you. I did call you, didn’t I?”

“You did.” Lindy could safely admit that much.

“I really must have done a good one last night,” Shane went on. “My grandfather stopped by this afternoon, and pointed out that I have a hickey. Boy, did I get a lecture.”

Lindy’s hand flew up to cover her mouth. She’d been so carried away last night that she hadn’t stopped kissing him. But the evidence was right there in front of her like a badge of honor on Shane’s neck.

Shane frowned. “Lindy, how did I get this? I remember a redhead, but I know I didn’t do anything with her. But if I have this, who was I with?”

Lindy’s heart constricted. At the moment he looked so vulnerable. Yet she knew she couldn’t tell him the truth. How could she just say, Shane, you slept with me. He always saw her as good old Lindy, his personal assistant.

She gave Shane a narrow look, and he turned his big blue puppy-dog eyes on her. “Let me guess. You want me to find out….”

Dear Reader,

Love often finds people when they least expect it. And often when true love does come, it’s not what the person envisioned love to be. Since it isn’t what it should look like, it must not be love. Right? Shane Jacobsen has a misguided vision of love. It’s right under his nose, but unfortunately he’s never seen Lindy Brinks as anything more than the best personal assistant he’s ever had. To Shane, love is a fairy tale, a myth. He’s also stubbornly set in his ways.

Lindy Brinks knows there’s more depth to Shane Jacobsen than most people see. Tired of loving him, though, she’s determined to get over Shane once and for all. She’s going to get a new job and a new life. Unfortunately, there’s a little matter of what she did “last night” that may complicate things….

One of my greatest joys as a published author is creating interesting characters. I also enjoy writing about their evolution and growth as they travel down the rocky path toward true love. When they find it, that love may not be what they expected, but it’s better. It’s exactly what they need to be happy for the rest of their days. I hope you enjoy Shane and Lindy’s story as much as I did writing it. Oh, and about last night…well, you’ll just have to read on to see.

Enjoy the romance!

Michele Dunaway

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

848—A LITTLE OFFICE ROMANCE

900—TAMING THE TABLOID HEIRESS

921—THE SIMPLY SCANDALOUS PRINCESS

931—CATCHING THE CORPORATE PLAYBOY

963—SWEEPING THE BRIDE AWAY

988—THE PLAYBOY’S PROTÉGÉE

About Last Night…

Michele Dunaway

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For Jon Bizzell, who knows why.

To John Eagan, author unknown—believe.

To my Alpha Xi Delta sisters, for always being there.

And to my Pike buddies Alan, Ronn and Kevin,

this one’s for you.

Special thanks to Dr. Braxton DeGarmo

for his expertise regarding emergency-room medicine

and head injuries. Any errors in the work are mine.

Prologue Prologue Jacobsen Enterprises External E-mail From: Joe Jacobsen, CEO, jjacobsen jacobsen.com To: Shane Jacobsen, sjacobsen hmail.com CC: Blake Jacobsen, bjacobsen jacobsenministries.com Date: Friday, April 13 Subject: Job Shane, Happy birthday, Grandson! Now that you are twenty-five, I’m going to ask you once again to join the family company. I’ve attached a job description that I hope will finally tempt you. I’ll stop by your place Saturday to discuss it with you. P.S. Your grandmother and I expect to see you at our estate this Sunday for Easter dinner. Be there at five and feel free to bring that lovely assistant of yours, Lindy. If you have questions, don’t hesitate to contact me. J.J.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

Jacobsen Enterprises External E-mail

From: Joe Jacobsen, CEO, jjacobsen jacobsen.com

To: Shane Jacobsen, sjacobsen hmail.com

CC: Blake Jacobsen, bjacobsen jacobsenministries.com

Date: Friday, April 13

Subject: Job

Shane,

Happy birthday, Grandson!

Now that you are twenty-five, I’m going to ask you once again to join the family company. I’ve attached a job description that I hope will finally tempt you. I’ll stop by your place Saturday to discuss it with you.

P.S. Your grandmother and I expect to see you at our estate this Sunday for Easter dinner. Be there at five and feel free to bring that lovely assistant of yours, Lindy. If you have questions, don’t hesitate to contact me.

J.J.

It had been the best, and worst, sex of her life. As Lindy Brinks sat up in bed, she wondered how she could have done it.

Wait.

She knew how. If she hadn’t learned that poignant lesson the first time, the man still sleeping beside her had made the second and third lovemaking experiences even more satisfying and more invigorating. His chiseled body had been hard and muscular under her fingers, smooth to her touch, and darn if she hadn’t been swept away all night long.

No, the real question wasn’t what she’d done or how she’d done it, but rather why. For in making love with Shane Jacobsen, Lindy had just made the worst mistake of her twenty-eight-year-old life.

Shane Jacobsen was infuriating. Mind-blowing. Condescending. Phenomenal. A womanizer. Her boss.

And she’d made love to him with her brown eyes wide open, her five-foot-seven body more than willing. Oh yes, definitely more than willing.

As Lindy looked around Shane’s bedroom, she knew she had no one to blame but herself. No one had forced down her throat the strawberry daiquiris she’d drunk last night during Shane’s twenty-fifth birthday celebration-slash-pool party. After Shane handed her the first red slushy concoction, Lindy had made the subsequent trips to the bar herself. She really had no excuse for her wanton behavior.

Grimacing, Lindy climbed out of bed, careful not to wake him. She tripped over something soft, and as she caught herself against the bed, she saw Shane’s comforter beneath her feet. That had been tossed aside early in the evening. Lindy cringed as she stepped over it. Shane Jacobsen was a playboy to the nth degree, so why had she let herself join his long line of female conquests? Being Shane’s personal assistant, she knew every single detail of what he was all about.

Fool! Fool! Fool!

Mentally cursing herself, Lindy slipped into her undergarments and touched her hair. The back of her head felt like a rat’s nest and she tugged, desperately trying to use her fingers to straighten the blond strands snarled by the pleasures of the night before. The morning-after movement sent a sharp, searing pain between her eyes, reminding Lindy again exactly how much alcohol and how little sleep she’d had. Fixing her hair without a brush was hopeless.