Her proximity brought to life every part of him,
left him longing to kiss her lips and snake his arms around her slender waist and pull her tight against him. Take up where they’d left off.
“Where would you like it, ma’am?” Jeeves appeared next to them with a silver tray filled with teacups and scones and clotted cream and jams.
Seline closed her eyes. “Remind me to talk to you about your awful sense of timing, Jeeves.”
The butler grinned at her, as if he believed his timing was perfect, as he put the tray down on the table near the long sofa. “Yes, ma’am.”
Just like that they were alone again.
And Ryder became doubly aware of how very close she was.
And did something he definitely hadn’t planned to do. At least not consciously.
He kissed her.
TORI CARRINGTON
Romantic Times BOOKreviews Career Achievement Award-winning husband-and-wife duo Lori and Tony Karayianni are the power behind the pen name Tori Carrington. Their over thirty-five novels include titles for Mills & Boon® Blaze® and Special Edition lines. They call Toledo, Ohio, home base, but travel to Tony’s home town of Athens, Greece, whenever they can. For more information on the couple, their books and where they plan to appear next with a fresh batch of Tony’s Famous Baklava in hand, visit www.toricarrington.net.
Dear Reader,
“Well-behaved women rarely make history.” This Laurel Thatcher Ulrich quote is one of many that grace our office walls. Women who push the boundaries of accepted behaviour are a popular theme for us, so when it was proposed that, along with Leslie Kelly and Julie Elizabeth Leto, we consider adding members to THE BAD GIRLS CLUB, we immediately signed on.
In Taken, Seline Sanborn is a sexy con artist. And self-made millionaire playboy Ryder Blackwell is the handsome mark. When Seline breaches his company’s inner circle by posing as a successful account executive, Ryder falls for her hard. A one-night stand quickly turns into full obsession. But what happens when he wakes up to find the angel in his bed gone…along with an interesting chunk of his company’s capital? Is he capable of redefining everything he believes about life and love and the law in order to be the one man skilled enough to earn Seline’s trust and steal something worth far more than money – her heart?
We hope you enjoy every twist and turn in Seline and Ryder’s unconventional journey towards happily-ever-after. We’d love to hear what you think. Contact us at PO Box 12271, Toledo, OH 43612, USA (we’ll respond with a signed bookplate, newsletter and bookmark), or visit us on the web at www.toricarrington.net.
Here’s wishing you love, romance and hot reading.
Lori & Tony Karayianni aka Tori Carrington
TAKEN
BY
TORI CARRINGTON
MILLS & BOON
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We dedicate this book to fellow lifetime
Bad Girls Club members Leslie Kelly, Julie Leto
and our shared editor Brenda Chin. And to bad
girls everywhere: keep knocking down those
walls and breaking through those glass ceilings.
1
IT WAS a temptation she couldn’t resist.
Heat slid over her skin, igniting every nerve ending, making her hyper-aware of each breath she drew in. Tension. Anticipation. Longing. All combined in her muscles, clamored for release. Demanded she unleash the more primal part of herself kept under wraps for far too long.
It was July, it was hot and Seline Sanborn sat alone in her leased glossy-black Audi TT roadster convertible with the top down, her Dior shades parked on her nose, tendrils of blond hair stuck to her chin and lips. Yearning, pure and strong, shuddered through her. How long it had been since she’d allowed herself the indulgence of taking off her mask? One month? No, it was closer to two. Two months since she’d taken on the identity of conservative Carol Lambert, senior account executive moved to New York City from Seattle, Washington. Eight weeks in which she’d gained the confidence of the higher-ups at Blackwell & Blackwell Industries. Sixty days since she’d traded a lifestyle with few boundaries for long twelve-hour days, and nights spent reviewing carefully laid out plans rather than enjoying romantic sunsets with a special someone.
Then again, it had been time immeasurable since she’d spent a romantic anything with anyone.
Which probably explained why she’d decided to take the sporty rental car to her uptown lunch meeting rather than a taxi. And why she’d let the top—and her hair—down afterward.
Of course, the success of the meeting had also contributed to her desire to cut loose. If all corporate endeavors could be as powerfully engaging, she’d seriously consider hanging up her hat and going legit. The problem was that there was much more paperwork and tedium involved in the life of a corporate exec than big-ticket deals like the one she’d just brokered on behalf of Blackwell & Blackwell.
Or rather, just brokered on behalf of herself using a shell company she’d anonymously staffed through a temporary employment agency. A company that would cease to exist by this time tomorrow, guaranteeing her rush would survive at least as long…and the security the funds from she’d make off with even longer.
Which was why she much preferred the title of con artist. Forget that the job was the only one she knew. What other position would give her quick access to the type of money she needed? Not even Carol Lambert’s nice salary could cover an overhead that went beyond the expensive leased cars and designer duds she needed for her cons. Well beyond.
Of course, the impulsiveness of her current actions went against one of her top rules, developed out of necessity: do not, under any circumstances, let your guard down until the con is over. And seeing as only a day and a half—thirty-six short hours—remained in her current job…well, her uncharacteristic recklessness was spotlighted all the more.
“It’s a car ride, that’s all,” she said quietly. “What harm can come out of a car ride?” She pressed the power button for the high-end CD player. The guitar riffs of “Radar Love” by Golden Earring instantly drowned out the cautionary voice that whispered in her ear, along with the sound of the purring engine now idling at a stoplight.
Until the rumble of another equally impressive engine turned her attention to her left.
She smiled with deliberate pleasure.
It didn’t take a car lover to appreciate the sleek lines of the XK Jaguar. But seeing as she knew the 12-cylinder engine that growled beneath the attractive hood inside and out, her interest quotient notched upward.
Too bad all she could