Jeanie London

About That Night...


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      “Kiss me, Julienne, or let me kiss you.”

      Nick ground out the words in a voice that held nothing back. He hungered with an intensity he’d never known before. Her combination of bold temptress with hints of shy innocence captivated him.

      The first taste of her wet velvet mouth shot his blood south in a painful rush. Her kiss was inquisitive, a cautious exploration. He let her take the lead, though he ached to deepen their kiss, to drive his tongue into her mouth and test the limits of her passion.

      She rewarded his restraint, darting her tongue across his bottom lip. A light touch, a taste really, but there was an intimacy that opened the floodgates. Suddenly her grip tightened and her mouth made demands of him that stole his breath.

      Julienne tested his control, lit fires inside him that he knew wouldn’t be doused until he experienced this woman naked with her hair tumbling all around them.

      He eased back, staring intently into her eyes so there would be no question about his meaning.

      “Can you imagine my hands on you, Julienne? Let me touch you. Let me pleasure you.”

      Dear Reader,

      More often than not, my family and friends jet around the globe while I stay home to check the mailbox for postcards. But I do occasionally venture into the world. One trip I’m very familiar with is the one that leads north along the eastern seaboard. My sister Kimberly and I never thought twice about hopping in the car and heading to our childhood home in New York, and whenever we did, we’d always find some reason to detour through Savannah, Georgia, just to experience the charm and beauty of this grand Southern city.

      Julienne Blake wants to experience something in Savannah, too—passion. With the help of self-hypnosis, she lets her hair down and takes a walk on the wild side, a walk that leads her straight into Nick Fairfax’s arms. Nick signed on only to renovate Savannah’s erotic theater, but one night on the empty stage with this naughty girl convinces him he’ll never be content until he knows all her secrets.

      Blaze is the place to explore red-hot romance, and I’m excited to write for a series that excels in steamy happily-ever-afters. I hope About That Night… brings you to happily-ever-after, too. Let me know. Drop me a line in care of Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada, or visit my Web site at www.jeanielondon.com.

      Very truly yours,

      Jeanie London

      P.S.—Don’t forget to check out www.tryblaze.com!

      About That Night…

      Jeanie London

      To Ann Josephson, for your skill,

       your friendship and all those spicy brainstorming sessions that never fail to make our husbands blush.

      And special thanks to Cheryl Mansfield, for sharing your architectural expertise and writer’s sight.

      Contents

      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

      Prologue

      Twenty-one days ago.

      NAUGHTY GIRLS feel good about feeling naughty.

      Julienne Blake silently read the phrase from the open book, then again, before rallying the courage to say it aloud.

      “Naughty girls feel good about feeling naughty.” The words rolled off her tongue, unfamiliar and shockingly bold in her quiet living room. On the walls hung photographs of her youth spent traveling with her bachelor great uncle to renovate historically significant buildings all over the world.

      Thankfully, Uncle Thad wasn’t in the room to hear her read the words again. Despite being seriously out of his element, he’d tried his level best to rear his orphaned great-niece as a good girl after awakening one morning to find her on his doorstep.

      “Naughty girls feel good about feeling naughty.”

      There, she had it. Her voice sounded natural, relaxed. A feat that had required a significant amount of practice, given that Julienne had spent her entire adult life studiously avoiding concepts like feeling good and feeling naughty. These weren’t concepts any good girl should dwell on, not when there were other, more productive uses for her time, like focusing on an education and a career.

      Julienne had been the ultimate good girl, a fact she’d been proud of—until six months ago when a broken engagement had made her question whether there was more to life than living up to other people’s expectations and always doing the right thing. Especially after her ex-fiancé had placed the blame for their breakup on her, complaining she lacked fire and passion.

      Snapping the book shut, she set The Naughty Handbook of Naughty Girl Sex on the end table and leaned back in her favorite chair, a leather recliner where she normally spent nights pouring over her students’ papers. Closing her eyes, she let the message filter through her.

      Naughty girls feel good about feeling naughty.

      Julienne planned to feel naughty and feel good about it. She’d just turned thirty, a turning point for finally realizing she should enjoy life. After spending five years with Ethan…she still couldn’t believe she’d spent five years with Ethan simply because it had seemed like the right thing to do.

      Come on, girl. Whoever said a woman had to finish college, establish herself in a career and then settle down to get married? When do you get to have fun?

      The voice in her head asked valid questions. Although she’d spent a lot of time soul-searching since the breakup, Julienne didn’t have any answers. Not even an answer for why life without Ethan seemed as tepid as life with him had been.

      “Why are you sitting here in the dark, Julienne?” Uncle Thad asked. “Are you feeling all right?”

      Julienne opened her eyes to find her uncle silhouetted beneath the archway that led to the hall. Snatching The Naughty Handbook from the end table, she flipped the cover down on her lap and gazed at him, an always-welcomed sight. His red apple cheeks and neat white beard lent him a rather Santa Clausish air that always made her think of Christmas. Perhaps because he’d come into her life just like Santa Claus down a chimney, generously devoting his golden years to rearing her.

      “I’m fine, thanks,” she assured him. “Just a little tired.”

      “You should get to bed then.” He strode into the room and sat in the recliner opposite hers, apparently not noticing her book. “Unless you’re up for a documentary on the History Channel. The show will feature that Philadelphia courthouse Dr. Fairfax renovated a few years back. Since he’s coming to town soon to start work on the Risqué Theatre, I thought I’d watch the program. Starts in a few minutes.”

      Julienne usually enjoyed watching programs that featured the work of this well-known preservation architect. With citations from more than three dozen historic