Save the Date # 2: A Billionaire’s Demand
By: Cara Connelly
Releasing September 30th, 2014
Cara Connelly's second Save the Date novel proves that opposites do attract...
Sexy billionaire Adam LeCroix has a mission: hunt down the sultry spitfire he blames for his troubles, demand her help, and exact revenge while he's at it. Maddie St. Clair will help him . . . or else.
Former prosecutor Maddie damn near nailed Adam for stealing, but the lucky bastard walked. Now, five years later, he's back, arrogant as ever, giving her an ultimatum—work for him to collect the insurance money, or she'll never work again.
Maddie's all about right and wrong. Adam's shades of gray. So when he uncovers the hot body under her hard-ass veneer and she finds he's a thief with a heart, can the law-and-order lawyer and the fast-and-loose felon put their prickly past behind them?
So familiar, so sure of himself, when she was a bundle of doubts and misgivings.
“We’ll teach him to play,” he said, stroking her sole with his knuckles. His other hand caressed the top of her foot, a slow slide of his palm from her toes to her ankle and back again.
Saliva pooled in her mouth. She couldn’t make herself pull her feet away, but she managed a sour puss.
“Life’s not all fun and games,” she informed him. “You dragged me over here to work.”
“You’re right,” he said. “You should be hunched over a desk under fluorescent bulbs, squinting at small print. Instead you’re lazing in the sun, admiring the sea view. I don’t know why I allow it.”
She glowered. “I’m not here to lounge around your fancy pool. Do I look like a Playboy bunny to you?”
Stupid, stupid question.
His gaze inched up her torso from her way-too-high-cut bikini bottoms to her way-too-low-cut top. The suit had appeared on her bed while she was showering. The price tag was still attached, apparently to prove it hadn’t been worn, but it also had the effect of dropping her jaw.
Who in their right mind would pay nine hundred and ninety-five dollars for two scraps of nylon that, sewn together, wouldn’t cover a ham sandwich?
She suppressed a flush by main force. “I meant,” she added stiffly, “why am I idling around the pool instead of working?”
His lips quirked. “Because it’s fun?”
“It’s not fun.” She pulled her feet away from his seductive hands, swung them around and planted them on the ground. “Quit handling me.”
“I can’t.” His finger trailed up the back of her arm. “I love how you feel. Velvet over steel.”
He traced a lacy pattern on her shoulder.
She should stand up. Stamp across the terrace and storm inside. She could picture herself doing it.
Instead, she closed her eyes. Goosebumps shivered up her spine.
His knuckles brushed her neck, then her cheek, as light as feathers, softer than silk. She swallowed, throat tight, willing them to dip lower, to scorch a fiery trail down to the swell of her breast . . .
And then they were gone.
She leaned in, infinitesimally, seeking what she’d lost. When it wasn’t forthcoming, she opened her eyes to find him on his feet looking down at her, his sunglasses hiding his expression.
Cara Connelly is an award-winning author of contemporary romances. Her smart and sexy stories have won high praise, earning Cara several awards including the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart, the Valley Forge Romance Writers’ Sheila, and the Music City Romance Writers’ Melody of Love. Cara, who lives in rural upstate New York, works as appellate court attorney when she’s not crafting steamy novels of love and romance.
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