All The Man I Need

by Tamara Sneed

Overview

"An entertaining romance with spices of drama, comedy and action mixed in." - RT Book Review

She Thinks She Knows It All...
Public relations powerhouse Lana Hargrove is ready to settle down as long as it's with a man who fits into her elite, social-climbing lifestyle. And that man is definitely not Justin Larkin, the hot-blooded P.I. who's been following her all over town. So why can't Lana stop thinking about how good it would feel to climb into his arms and hold on tight?
But The Last Man She Wants...
Justin Larkin doesn't like to mix with pleasure, but he can't deny that following the luscious Lana Hargrove is pure bliss. Justin's latest assignment is to find Lana's art-thief father. As things heat up, he fears Lana may be in danger. Now it's up to Justin to keep her safe-even if it's from his own runaway desire!
Is Exactly Who She Needs...
Justin's case spirals out of control when he discovers that an enemy of Lana's father is targeting her to get even. He and Lana will have to join forces if they want to escape with their lives. But as tensions mount, their intense attraction threatens to boil over-and each kiss they share may be their last, in All The Man I Need by Tamara Sneed.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781466863415
Publisher:	St. Martin's Publishing Group
Publication date:	01/28/2014
Sold by:	Macmillan
Format:	eBook
Pages:	336
File size:	311 KB

About the Author

Tamara Sneed writes contemporary romance novels with equal parts humor and suspense. Her previously published novels include You've Got a Hold On Me, Love Undercover, A Royal Vow, and When I Fall in Love, which won the EMMA Award for Favorite Romantic Comedy at the 2003 Romance Slam Jam.

Tamara was born and raised in the Los Angeles area. She loves to travel, and she has visited most of the United States and Western Europe. After graduating from Georgetown University Law Center, Tamara returned to Los Angeles and currently works in a law firm. She has no pets, husband, or children to say anything cute about, but she does have one plant that tenaciously clings to life and gives her hope that sheer will alone can be enough sometimes.

TAMARA SNEED writes contemporary romance novels with equal parts humor and suspense. Her novels include You've Got a Hold On Me, Love Undercover, A Royal Vow, All the Man I Need, and When I Fall in Love, which won the EMMA Award for Favorite Romantic Comedy at the 2003 Romance Slam Jam.

Tamara was born and raised in the Los Angeles area. She loves to travel, and she has visited most of the United States and Western Europe. After graduating from Georgetown University Law Center, Tamara returned to Los Angeles to practice law. She has no pets, husband, or children to say anything cute about, but she does have two plants that tenaciously cling to life and give her hope that-sometimes-sheer will alone can be enough.

Read an Excerpt

All the Man I Need

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By Tamara Sneed

St. Martin's Press

Copyright © 2004 Tamara Sneed
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4668-6341-5

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CHAPTER 1

Lana Hargrove had spent half of her life running from men. Men who either wanted more than she was willing to give — like a second date or a returned phone call or E-mail, or men who wanted to give her too much, like the key to their house or a kidney. But, after spending five months in a self-defense class that she had initially taken because the instructor looked like a shorter, darker version of Boris Kodjoe, she had vowed to never run from a man in fear. Not that she ever had before, because Lana Hargrove was scared of no man, but she didn't want there to be a first time, either, which was exactly why Lana decided to confront the man who had been following her for the last half hour on the crowded streets of the Georgetown shopping district.

Lana turned down a quiet tree-lined street that branched off from Wisconsin, the main street in the heart of Georgetown. She hurried on her tiptoes — so that her three-inch stiletto heels didn't make noise against the pavement — to the opening of the alley. She set her three shopping bags on the ground, then waited. Sure enough, she heard the steady rhythm of footsteps on the sidewalk. It had to be the pervert.

Lana balled her right hand into a fist and patiently waited, remembering to breathe evenly and deeply. She was following her training perfectly, except for the part where she planned this confrontation. Her self-defense instructor, Raj — who later turned out to be married with two kids and, more important, a personality as exciting as a package of tofu — had always taught the other smitten and subsequently disappointed women in his class to avoid confrontation and to only engage "the enemy" when forced to. Lana had never liked avoiding anything.

She tensed as the footsteps grew nearer; then as she was about to jump out and attack, a short white man walked past her, yelling into his cell phone. Lana stared past the man, confused. There was no one else on the sidewalk. Where was the tall black man in the baseball cap and sunglasses? Lana had been certain that there had been a tall black man, with impossibly broad shoulders, following her. Men usually followed her, because she was an attractive black woman in Washington DC, where black men followed any black woman as if she held the Holy Grail. The following thing didn't bother her. It was the fact that the man never made his move. He just followed her. The lurking stalkers she didn't like; the open and obvious stalkers she could deal with.

Lana was so preoccupied with her disappointment that she wouldn't be able to kick some pervert's butt today that she didn't notice the man with the baseball cap and sunglasses until he stood almost in her face. Her training took over. She grabbed his hand and tugged and pulled with a warrior yell that would have made Raj proud. The man flipped over like a Hollywood stuntman and landed in the middle of the sidewalk with a loud groan that made Lana smile in satisfaction.

She placed one thin heel squarely in the middle of his chest and stared down at him, feeling mildly triumphant, even though common sense told her to just run. Unfortunately, a lack of common sense was one of the traits she would actually admit that she had inherited from her father.

"Why are you following me?" Lana asked coolly, as if she had all the time in the world.

Then she noticed his face, which was fully visible, since his cap and glasses had flown off during the fall. The majority of his face was chocolate brown perfection, a perfect nose and full lips, almond-shaped eyes, and eyebrows as dark as midnight and silky smooth. But then there was the portion of the left side of his face, which was very far from perfection. It was as if a section of his face had melted, and brown tangled, scarred tissue was frozen to preserve the injustice of it compared to the majority of his dark, unblemished skin. Only a small portion of his face was horribly scarred, but it was enough to draw her attention, and enough horror and sympathy flowed through her body to make her take her foot off his chest.

The man took the opportunity that her obvious shock provided to push her off him and scramble to his feet. She almost lost her balance but wobbled on her feet only for him to grab her shoulders and slam her into the brick wall behind her, hard enough for her to wince in pain and berate herself for feeling sympathy for him. His hands were rough on her shoulders as he pinned her to the wall. It was a strange time to notice it, but she observed how dark and intense his eyes were. If his hands hadn't been digging in her shoulders at that moment, she would have thought he was easily manipulated, like most men she met.

"Are you scared, Lana?" he demanded in a husky voice as his mouth hovered inches from hers.

Lana's gaze unwillingly lowered to his wet, full lips. She was grateful for the sudden pinpricks of pain in her back from the sharp edges of the brick wall through the thin material of the dress. She winced and it could have been her imagination, but it felt as if his hands loosened on her shoulders. She cursed herself. She refused to have lust-filled thoughts about her attacker.

She forced herself to swallow the lump of fear and arousal in her throat and demanded, "How do you know my name?"

"Nice outfit," he said, his gaze raking over the lilac-colored sundress she wore. It was too short and cut too low and those were the two main reasons she had bought it, except she had not pictured this scenario when she had. When lust flashed openly in his eyes, she struggled against his hold on her shoulders, but his grip was too strong. His gaze lingered on her breasts, on the cleavage visible there, and he actually licked his lips. His very beautiful and full lips. He finally met her eyes again. "With that dress, I'm surprised half of the men in DC aren't following you ... or throwing dollar bills at your feet for a lap dance."

Rage flowed through her body and she rammed a knee into his groin with enough force to make him scream in pain. He immediately released her and fell into the wall as he cradled his private parts, his face contorted in agony. He slid to the ground with a whimper. Lana smiled at him, then spotted his sunglasses nearby and purposely ground one heel into the designer shades. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and watched him.

"We were about to get to the part where you tell me who you are and how you know my name," she said cheerfully.

His eyes rolled in their sockets as he continued to grimace in obvious pain. Lana sighed in impatience, then examined her fingernails while she waited. It was definitely time for another manicure.

"You're insane," he finally managed to gasp.

"That's creative," she said dryly, then demanded, "Now, who are you?"

"You could have caused serious damage," he said.

"Hopefully, I have. I guess we won't know for certain until you take the equipment for a test run. I would volunteer for the job, but I think it's probably too small to hold my attention for long," she said cheerfully, then pointedly stared at the spot in his pants where the equipment resided, until he cleared his throat.

She was surprised she didn't internally combust from the look of hot anger he directed at her. She actually took a step back to place more distance between them before she reminded herself that she was scared of no man. He obviously tried to calm himself as he took several deep breaths before he said, "My name is Justin Larkin."

"That's a good first step, Justin," she said in a soft, soothing voice. "Next question: Why are you following me?"

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said, then slowly and carefully pulled himself to stand, although she noticed with satisfaction the flicker of pain crossing his face with the movement. She never before wanted a man to think about her while he used the bathroom, but she hoped that Justin Larkin would be thinking about her while he painfully tried to take a piss for the next few days.

She laughed, amused, then said dryly, "Thanks for the reassurance. I feel much better now."

"I work with your father," he said flatly.

It was Lana's turn to lean against the wall for support. She tried to breathe but suddenly forgot how. Her father. She looked at Justin again, but his face was a blank mask as he watched her. When her gasps for air intensified, a flash of concern crossed his face before he hesitantly approached her, almost as if he were waiting for her to knee him again. Then he placed a hand on her back, a large, warm hand that felt nice. There were no ulterior motives, no demands from him, just comfort. It had been a long time since any man had touched her without any ulterior motive, and she had forgotten how nice it could feel.

"Breathe, Lana," he instructed in a surprisingly gentle tone.

"My father?" she whispered, confused. That word "father" hadn't existed in her life in years. Twenty years, to be precise, since her father left her with his mother and never made any attempt to contact her. "If you work with him, then ... then you're a —"

He smiled and the sight was almost out of this world, showcasing beautiful even white teeth. It was a shame that a pervert had to have such a nice smile.

"I'm a thief," he supplied the word for her, his smile fading only slightly. "Or as your father likes to say, we commandeer and exchange artwork for a fee."

"But you're ... How can you ..." Her voice trailed off, but her gaze remained glued to the scarred side of his face.

His smile instantly disappeared, and she realized too late that she had touched — or, more accurately, looked at — a sensitive spot. "One of the only jobs, outside of Disneyland, where wearing a mask is a prerequisite. You can see why I'm perfect for it."

For some reason, she didn't like the self-loathing she heard in his voice. Once more she had to shake herself from feeling sympathy for her attacker, or even worse, since he was no longer her attacker but one of her father's colleagues. Lana abruptly moved away from his touch, all too aware of the feelings being awakened by it. She could have told herself that any man could make her body hum like that, but it would have been a lie. She had never reacted to a man like she had to this one.

"Why are you following me?" she demanded, finding her voice again.

"Because your father asked me to," he said simply, then retrieved his cap and broken sunglasses off the ground. He placed the shattered sunglasses in his shirt pocket and sent her a look that was designed to make her feel guilty but instead made her want to stick out her tongue at him. "I've been following you for a few days —"

"No, you haven't," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "I would have seen you."

"Yes, I have."

"No, you haven't."

Justin sighed impatiently, obviously stopping himself from arguing with her again, then said, "The point is you're in danger and your father wants me to take you somewhere safe."

"You?" She snorted in disbelief. "I'm supposed to voluntarily follow a strange man to God knows where, all because my father, whom I haven't seen in twenty years, supposedly wants me to? Maybe your head was damaged in the fall, but I ..." Her voice trailed off when he held up his hand, from which a familiar small sapphire pendant on a white gold chain dangled.

She snatched it from his hand and studied the sapphire. On the back of the pendant LH was engraved and her birth date. It was hers. Her father had bought it for her the day she was born and gave it to her the day her mother died. Lana hadn't seen it in twenty years, since her father had dropped her off at her grandmother's house in Oakland, and she had given it to him with a foolish innocence that said he would return and give it back to her. Her heart beat wildly as she glared at Justin. "Where did you get this?"

"Your father wanted me to give it to you so you'd know that you can trust me."

She snorted in disbelief, but her gaze returned to the pendant. She couldn't believe that he had kept it. Twenty years. She abruptly slipped it into her purse, then said to Justin, "I don't trust him and I sure as hell don't trust you. He disappears for the majority of my life — not even bothering to attend his own mother's funeral — and then you show up saying I'm in danger and I'm supposed to follow you without question —"

"You weren't supposed to see me yet. I was supposed to wait to talk to you after your father contacted you," he grumbled reluctantly.

"You're hard to miss," she snapped. He went completely still and Lana rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I'm not talking about your face; I'm talking about you. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You're a big guy."

She would die before telling him that with the way his shoulders filled out a shirt and the square line of his jaw, any woman would notice him. That's what she had noticed. Lana liked to think that she had radar when it came to fine men, and she had spotted him blocks ago.

"You just noticed me today," he obviously felt compelled to add.

She rolled her eyes, then asked, with feigned boredom, "Why am I supposedly in danger?"

"Your father has some enemies in DC. He doesn't want you to get hurt, and he thinks that they'll use you to get to him."

"What did he do this time? Steal something from the most violent criminal in America?" She felt an uncharacteristic flash of fear when she saw the distinctly uncomfortable look on Justin's face. "I was being sarcastic, but that's it, isn't it? My father took something from the wrong person and they want it back."

Justin ignored her question and glanced up and down the quiet street. "It's not safe here. Let's go to your house so you can grab a few things, and then we're going for a drive."

Lana laughed in disbelief and shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

He sighed as if he were a long-suffering martyr. "I'm not going to hurt you, Lana."

"I know you aren't going to hurt me, because I won't let you," she said simply. "But I'm still not going anywhere with you. If you are telling the truth, that someone is trying to use me to hurt my father, then you could be the exact man that I should be avoiding. And if you aren't telling the truth, then you're crazy and if you make any sudden moves I'll make sure the family jewels are permanently out of commission."

Silence stretched between them as Justin glared at her. She could tell he was half-tempted to throw her over his shoulder and take her where he wanted her to go, and she wasn't entirely certain that she could do anything to stop him besides scream a lot. And there was that small part of her that didn't want to scream at all.

Justin abruptly threw up his hands in surrender and said, "I give up. I'll tell Frank that I tried." He turned and began to walk down the street.

"Where are you going?" she demanded, surprised.

"I don't like to waste my time, and talking to you is a waste of my time," he called over his shoulder, without breaking his stride.

"What about all the danger and my father's enemies and ... and stealing?"

He ignored her and continued walking until he rounded the corner of the building and disappeared from her sight. Lana tried to tell herself she was glad she had gotten rid of the man, but then she pulled the sapphire pendant from her purse and studied it. The fact that he had it told her that he really knew her father or ... that her father was dead.

CHAPTER 2

Three hours after being accosted and shocked by a man whose smile should have been bronzed in a dentist's museum, Lana stifled a yawn as she sat across from Bruce Longfellow. She was in one of the most exclusive restaurants in DC, enjoying delicious food and expensive wine, which normally would have been enough for her to at least enjoy herself, despite the company, but tonight she felt anxious. Out of place. As if everyone in the restaurant was watching her. She couldn't blame herself for being paranoid. The reappearance, the mere mention, of Frank Hargrove in her life was cause for alarm in an image-conscious town like Washington DC.

She had spent a long time making certain that her father's infamous past would not affect her reputation in public relations. After college, she had spent the requisite few years in a large PR firm, grinding out the hours and landing the major accounts, and for the last two years she had been running her own company, Lana Hargrove Public Relations, Inc. Her company was just beginning to reach the level she had envisioned; she had hired a secretary to come into her office — which was the converted bottom floor of her brownstone in Dupont Circle — only a few months ago to handle the ever-increasing administrative duties that she didn't have time to deal with anymore. The mention of her father reminded her how fragile her house of cards was. Being known as the daughter of an art thief did not fit into her carefully crafted image.

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from All the Man I Need by Tamara Sneed. Copyright © 2004 Tamara Sneed. Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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