LITMIR.BIZ

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      SUSAN MALLERY

      is the bestselling and award-winning author of over fifty books for Harlequin and Silhouette Books. She makes her home in the Los Angeles area with her handsome prince of a husband, her two adorable-but-not-bright cats and new puppy. Check out all her doings at www.susanmallery.com.

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter One

      Rachel Harper had always longed to be more sophisticated. It was right there on her to-do list between “be more aware of current events” and “don’t let your hand-washing pile up so much.”

      While she had started watching the national news nearly every night, she wasn’t doing so well keeping up with her delicates. And the sophistication thing? A total loss.

      Which was why she found herself, at the ripe old age of twenty-five, sitting in a bar and feeling as if she didn’t have a clue as to how to act. Not that she was here to do normal barlike things. Instead, she’d agreed to accompany Diane, a new teacher at her school, who was breaking up with her boyfriend and had asked Rachel to come along for moral support. As the next item of Rachel’s to-do list—right under the issue with the hand-washing—was “get out more,” she’d agreed to tag along to the Blue Dog Bar.

      Rachel wasn’t sure what dog, blue or not, had inspired the name. There seemed to be a lot more men than women in the bar. She swirled the margarita she’d ordered, then took a big sip.

      “The jerk isn’t even going to show up,” Diane said from her seat across the small table they’d chosen by the wall. “That is so like him. I swear, I’m going to kick him in the head when I see him.” Diane paused, then smiled. “See, I’m talking in ‘I’sentences, just like that book said.”

      “Yes, you are,” Rachel murmured, deciding not to point out that the “I” sentences the self-help manual referred to probably didn’t fall into the “I’m going to kick you in the head” category.

      “There he is,” Diane said as she stood. “Wish me luck.”

      Rachel glanced at the tall, dark-haired man who strolled into the bar, looking as if he could take just about every other guy there. “Good luck,” she said and meant it.

      Carter Brockett eyed the curvy brunette in the prim dress and knew he was seconds away from all kinds of trouble. The cool, logical side of his brain reminded him that all the pain and suffering in his life could be traced back to one source: women. Life was always better when he walked away.

      The part of his brain—and the rest of him—that enjoyed a warm body, a sharp mind and a purely feminine take on the world said she looked interesting. And that last bit of consciousness, shaped by a very strong-willed mother who had drilled into him that he was always to protect those weaker than him, told him that the attractive brunette was in way over her head.

      He could be wrong of course. For all he knew, she was a leather-wearing dominatrix who came to the Blue Dog because of the place’s reputation. But he had his doubts.

      The Blue Dog was a cop bar. But not just any hangout for those in uniform. It was a place where guys showed up to get lucky and the women who walked in counted on that fact. Carter usually avoided the place—he worked undercover and couldn’t afford to be seen here. But one of his contacts had insisted on the location, so Carter had agreed and prayed no one from the force would speak to him.

      No one had. He’d concluded his business and had been about to leave when the brunette had walked in with her friend, who was currently involved in a heated conversation with Eddy. Eddy wasn’t exactly a prince when it came to his dating habits, so Carter had a feeling the chat wasn’t going to go well. He nodded at Jenny, the bartender on duty, then pointed to the brunette. Jenny raised her eyebrows.

      Carter didn’t have to guess what she was thinking. Jenny, an ex-girlfriend, knew him pretty well. Yeah, well, maybe after a few months of self-induced celibacy, he was ready to give the man-woman thing another try. Even though he knew better. Even though it was always a disaster.

      He glanced around and saw he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the contrast between the brunette’s made-for-sin body and her Sunday-school-teacher clothes. So if he was going to protect her from the other big bad cops, he’d better get a move on.

      He walked to the bar, where Jenny handed him a beer and a margarita. He ignored her knowing grin and crossed to the brunette’s table.

Скачать книгу