The Million-Dollar Question. Kimberly Lang
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Evan’s kiss was everything she remembered and more.
Unhurried but hungry, it promised all kinds of pleasures to come, and pure want drowned out any caution from her higher brain functions.
He tasted like the whiskey on the rocks he’d been drinking earlier—only hot and far more potent. Then he leaned into her, pressing her back against the cool cinderblock wall, deepening the kiss and blocking out everything that wasn’t him.
And his hands … One was gentle against her cheek, but the other was strong against her hip—and both of them were caressing her, stoking the fire kindled by his tongue.
She slid her hands under his jacket to feel the hard muscles of his stomach hidden under fine cotton, then wrapped her arms around his waist to pull him against her.
A groan echoed off the walls and she wasn’t sure if it was hers or his. Evan’s lips were hot against her neck, sending shivers over her skin.
You may remember from my bio that I used to dance. Not at Olivia’s level, of course, but writing this book was, in many ways, a trip down memory lane—taking me back to some of the best (not to mention thinnest and most flexible) days of my life. Ballet was always my first love, and the first dream I chased, and it was so much fun to revisit that world. Thanks for indulging me in this!
Had I ended up with Olivia’s career, I like to think there would have been an Evan in my story, too. (Hey, if I’m going to dream I might as well dream big!) Evan … sigh. So cocky and sure, yet still haunted by his own insecurities. Plus, he’s hot and not threatened by Olivia’s success. Yeah, I fell in love with him pretty easily.
I hope you come to love Evan and Olivia as much as I do. As always, I’d love to hear from you, either through my website, www.BooksByKimberly.com, or on Facebook or Twitter.
All the best
Kimberly
KIMBERLY LANG hid romance novels behind her textbooks in junior high, and even a Master’s programme in English couldn’t break her obsession with dashing heroes and happily-ever-after. A ballet dancer turned English teacher, Kimberly married an electrical engineer and turned her life into an ongoing episode of When Dilbert Met Frasier. She and her Darling Geek live in beautiful North Alabama, with their one Amazing Child—who, unfortunately, shows an aptitude for sports.
Visit Kimberly at www.booksbykimberly.com for the latest news—and don’t forget to say hi while you’re there!
The Million-Dollar Question
Kimberly Lang
To Marilynn, Terri, Sunny, Angela, Stacey, Marbury, both Melissas, Anna, Andrea, India, Kelly, Buddy, Chris, Susan, Nelson and the whole ASFA dance department for all the stories that start with,
“There was this one time, during Nutcracker …”
Table of Contents
Dear Reader
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
EPILOGUE
“SOMEBODY’S GOT A hot date.”
It was hard for Olivia Madison to both roll her eyes and apply mascara at the same time, but she managed it—just barely. Rehearsals had run long today and she was now running late. She didn’t have time for this. “It’s not a date.”
Her roommate, Annie, flopped across the bed and examined the outfit Olivia had laid out for tonight. “Hmm … Silky top, the ‘good butt’ jeans and ‘take me’ boots. You curled your hair, you’re wearing makeup, and …” She stopped to sniff the air delicately. “I smell perfume. All signs point to a hot date. And it’s about time. I was getting afraid we’d have to get a couple of cats soon and the lease doesn’t allow pets.”
“First of all, neither of us is in Cat Lady territory just yet. Getting married and having babies is what your thirties are for. Second, it’s just dinner. Pretty much a business dinner, at that.”
Annie still wasn’t convinced. “In that outfit? Please. Did you shave your legs?”
Olivia had, but that was neither here nor there and had nothing to do with the person she was meeting for dinner. “It’s with my brother’s college roommate, for goodness sake.”
“Is he cute?”
Olivia had to admit he was. She’d looked him up online to see if he’d changed much in the past nine years, rather hoping to find that he’d developed a paunch or lost a lot of hair, only to be disappointed in that hope. If anything, the past decade had been quite good to Evan Lawford, maturing his features—and even the attitude he projected in the photos—light-years past the frat rat she remembered. The sun-bleached hair had turned darker, probably meaning he didn’t spend as much time on the beach as he used to, but the color offset his blue eyes nicely. The cheekbones and the jawline she remembered quite well, only the two-day stubble look was also gone. The difference between boy and man was stark and startling at first.
Objectively speaking, Evan Lawford was hot. Male-model-broodingly-advertising-expensive-suits-in-a-glossy-magazine hot. “It doesn’t really matter. He’s a jerk.”
“Which means he is a hottie, and that’s just wrong.” Annie sighed and rolled to her back. “Why can’t the really nice guys be drop-dead gorgeous, too? Is that really too much to ask?” she pleaded to the universe.
“All signs point to yes.” Olivia tossed the mascara tube back into her makeup bag. Jerk was a nice word for Evan. He was a cocky, arrogant, ego-ridden player. But he was a successful cocky, arrogant, ego-ridden