Veronique had done the monogamous relationship thing before and got her heart stomped in the process. She no longer allowed her emotions to join her liaisons and kept her heart locked away. While taking a break from her sorority's festivities, she meets Frank O'Connor in a bar. She's attracted. The man is seriously fine and does the one thing guaranteed to gain her attention. He threw down a bedroom challenge. With two days left in town, could she handle his challenge and leave town unscathed?
"Are you okay?"
The deep sexy-as-sin voice shot straight to her core. Damn. Now visions of tangled sheets and long nights ran through her mind with the voice. And she hadn't even seen the body it came from. Sitting back up in her chair, she eyed him while she rubbed the side of her face. Damn, he's fine.
"Can I get you another drink?" The dark eyes pinned her to her chair. A flutter of interest rose in her breast.
She nodded, her pussy tingled at his look of interest.
"What're you drinking?" He smiled. And Veronique, defense attorney extraordinaire, swore the sun had just come from behind a dark cloud, making her world seem brighter. Sappy, but true.
"Oh, a glass of zinfandel will be fine." Any buzz she'd had earlier evaporated under the heavy dose of lust that'd swamped her. Although he wore jeans, his shirt was professional grade. Could he be in the gray area? A professional with blue-collar tendencies. Hmmm, watching him weave through the crowd, she marveled at his size. Tall, broad shoulders, dark hair and eyes. All-around nice package. Her lips puckered and smacked, wanting a taste.
God, please let him be capable of a halfway decent conversation. No matter how hot and horny he made her, she'd long passed the stage where she screwed dumb men. Even brief flings had to bring more than solid meat to the table. Placing her shoes into her large Coach bag, she watched him maneuver the crowd while holding her wine and a beer.
He handed her the glass as he sat next to her.
"Thanks, I appreciate it. I'm Veronique by the way." She looked at him from beneath her lids as she took a sip of the cool liquid.
"I'm Frank. Your name's different. Are you from Philly?" He took a pull from his bottle. The weight of his gaze warmed her.
"No, I'm here for a conference. Two more days to go." She gazed at his dark eyes, and the heat singed her core. His eyes blazed as he watched her lips on the glass. Yep, he was he interested. "Is this home for you?"
"I live an hour away, but I had some business in town, and came in here to unwind before heading out." He looked at her and winked. "Glad I did."
Me, too. "How about that? I was on my way out when you bumped into me. Must be kismet, huh?" She smiled as he placed his bottle on the table, and leaned toward her.
"Yeah, kismet works for me. Let me buy you dinner before you leave. You seem like an interesting person, Veronique. I'd like to know you better."
Tingles shot down her spine when he said her name. "I am." She stood, and picked up her purse.
He followed. "Is there anything you prefer?"
"Lean meats." She smirked as her eyes roved slowly over his muscular frame. Did she say he was fine? Regardless, his body demanded another bravo for finess.
He placed his hands in his pocket and walked behind her. "Lean meats? Hmmm, lean and juicy, I hope."
"Juicy works. Nobody likes dry meat." She stopped and looked around the hotel lobby for the entrance to the in-house restaurant. Spotting it, she headed in that direction. "We can eat here."
"Sounds good. I like lean and juicy myself." He grinned. They entered the restaurant, and the hostess sat them in the back after Veronique explained the problem with her shoes.
After they'd been seated, she glanced at Frank over her menu. Damn. The man was handsome. Thick, dark shiny hair touched his collar, a small close-cropped beard, and a nice smile. He reminded her of Russell Crowe and Mel Gibson combined into a delicious package. A package she planned to unwrap before the night was over.