Series: Billionaire Secrets #3
park ranger standing in her way.
connected he is—and she knows he’ll be a very reluctant source even if she can
get him to talk. What she isn’t expecting is to fall head over heels in
insta-love with a grumpy, bearded mountain man who wants nothing to do with
her.
my best efforts to glare straight ahead, I see her out of the corner of my eye.
I see her glance down at her recorder, and turn it off. I see her jaw tighten,
then relax, and I see her sigh and turn to look out the window.
soft thigh.
performance.
it’s gotta be because she wants me to chase the hem with my tongue. Because she
wants to get lost for a few hours, and part company with a mutually fond
memory.
hand to her mouth. Her lips part, pink and shiny, and she sinks her perfect
white teeth into the fleshy pad of her thumb.
me. Another few hours of this antagonism and who the hell knows what will
happen?
her to let you peek up her skirt.
scrambles to hang on to her recorder, her skirt, her plan of seduction.
figured out I’m serious, and she doesn’t want me to touch her.
anyway. Definitely not in anger.
who’s poking around my life.
playing at?”
“Nothing.”
the recorder.”
stock-still, then gasps again and shoves her hands hard against my chest. “You…
you… you…”
gaze collides with mine, there’s no humor there. Just angry, pissed-off woman.
“Okay, let’s start at the top. I’m wearing a skirt. Yes. I have legs, that’s a
fun fact, too. And you saw part of them. Whoop-di-fucking-doo, Ranger Boy.
Second, if I was biting my thumb, it was to keep from criticizing your reckless
fucking driving. And finally, I turned off my recorder because this interview
is a waste of my fucking time. And if you think for a hot second that I might
use my feminine wiles to get a story out of you, you’re a fucking asshole who
deserves to be hunted down by paparazzi. I’ll make sure that happens just as
soon as I get off this fucking godforsaken mountain.”
again, crowding into her personal space. “Lose your story?”
glittering. “Not one worth writing.”
mostly to scare her away, but also a little bit because she itched at me. That
itch now flares up, hot and red and annoyingly principled. “I was trying to
scare you off.”
the fuck am I supposed to get back to my car now? Because I’m sure as hell not
getting back in your truck.”
is super grateful for caffeine, blueberry muffins, and yoga pants. She is the
USA Today bestselling author of Hate F*@k and Prime
Minister. She also writes sexy, small town and military romance as Zoe
York.












About Lauren Blakely:








About Lauren Blakely:



One handywoman.









New York Times bestselling author, Emma Hart, brings together two polar-opposite single parents in the second book in the sinfully sexy Vegas Nights series.












You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone…







Tessa Bailey is originally from Carlsbad, California. The day after high school graduation, she packed her yearbook, ripped jeans, and laptop, and drove cross-country to New York City in under four days. Her most valuable life experiences were learned thereafter while waitressing at K-Dees, a Manhattan pub owned by her uncle. Inside those four walls, she met her husband, best friend, and discovered the magic of classic rock, managing to put herself through Kingsborough Community College and the English program at Pace University at the same time. Several stunted attempts to enter the work force as a journalist followed, but romance writing continued to demand her attention. She now lives in Long Island, New York with her husband and daughter. Although she is severely sleep-deprived, she is incredibly happy to be living her dream of writing about people falling in love.
