The Delacourt Scandal. Sherryl Woods

not impulsive if you have to know all the details ahead of time,” he teased.

      Her pulse promptly kicked into overdrive. It appeared that this lighthearted, victorious Tyler was even more dangerous than the brooding, vulnerable man she’d first met. No wonder he had a reputation. That smile of his could lure a woman into going against every sane, rational bit of advice she’d ever been given—to say nothing of severing the last fragile thread by which she was clinging to her ethics.

      However, his mood played straight into her own agenda to worm her way into the heart of the Delacourt clan. “Name it. I’ll go along.”

      “Come with me, then.”

      “I haven’t even eaten.”

      “Don’t worry, short stuff, you’ll get to eat. In fact, I’ll promise you the best seafood you’ve ever eaten, along with buttered corn on the cob and the perfect dessert for a steamy day like this.”

      “Lead me to it,” she said.

      He held out his hand, and after a second’s hesitation she placed hers in it. The instant she did, she knew it was a mistake. His touch sent heat sizzling through her veins and set her every nerve to tingling.

      Slow down, she warned herself. This was very thin ice, and given the temperature of her thoughts at the moment, it wouldn’t take long to melt right through it.