Summer Heat. A.C. Arthur
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“But we’re here now and we’re alone.”
“That we are,” she said, knowing the exact moment his lips would touch hers.
From the center of the fountain just a few feet away, ten-foot jets of water spouted and fell in a lighted display. Sam’s lips touched hers and her eyes fluttered shut. The sound of rushing water echoed in the distance but all she could think about was the soft touch of his lips on hers, the warmth of his tongue slipping past her teeth and moving seductively into her mouth.
Wrapping her arms around his neck and tilting her head for better access she took him in, moaning as he sucked her tongue with deep hungry strokes, sinking closer into his embrace as he masterfully seduced her with his mouth.
Never before had she been kissed like this. Surely this must be a dream. Either that or it was forbidden. Nothing that tasted this good, felt this right, could be good for her. Hadn’t she already learned that lesson?
Summer Heat
A.C. Arthur
MILLS & BOON
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Dear Reader,
Welcome to the art world and to the legacy of the beautiful and talented Lakefields of Manhattan. Once again I have given you a family of strong, independent and successful adults—this time in the form of three intriguing sisters—Monica, Karena and Deena.
When I envisioned the perfect woman for Sam Desdune I knew she would have to be multi-dimensional. Sam would want a woman who was independent and sexy, yet compassionate and loving. I also knew that bringing Sam and Karena together was going to take something really special, so I went out on a limb with a beautiful Brazilian beach, an endearing Great Dane and the tried and true tale of Romeo and Juliet.
I hope you enjoy this first look into the Lakefields and stay tuned for more!
As always, I would love to hear from you. I can be contacted at [email protected].
Happy reading!
A.C. Arthur
Prologue
August—St. Michael’s, Maryland
Karena Lakefield took her seat on the plane and immediately buckled her seat belt, just as she did when getting into a car. It was just one of those things she was anal about. Actually, if her sisters were telling it, they’d say she was anal about just about everything. She, however, liked to think of it as having an orderly life—everything in its place and all that.
That’s how she managed her business dealings, her family issues and her personal life—otherwise, she would have checked into the sanitarium by now.
She was just about to reach into her bag and pull out her laptop when the seat beside her was taken.
“Hello, again,” Sam Desdune said with an easy smile that once again had Karena’s toes warming.
“Well, hello to you. I didn’t know we were booked on the same flight.”
“Neither did I. Originally I was going to stay another day just to make sure that things went smoothly with Luther’s extradition. But Brock assured me that he’d go down to the police station to personally see the man off.” With that, Sam had packed his overnight bag and headed for the airport, hoping to find a flight leaving for New York sooner rather than later. And lady luck seemed to be on his side—in more ways than one, he noted as he looked into the cheerfully pretty face of Karena Lakefield.
They’d officially met last night at dinner, the one where Brock announced that Noelle would be moving to the East Coast with him—and Jade nearly fell out of her chair. The memory had Sam chuckling. He’d known Trent Donovan for almost ten years. He’d shared some of the Donovan family dinners and enjoyed them immensely, but none as much as last night’s.
The lady with the coal-black hair styled in a short spiky do and dark, seductive eyes was the cause for that.
She was one of the Lakefields of Manhattan. The minute Noelle had said her name, he’d made the connection. The Lakefields ran the most exclusive and affluent African-American-owned art galleries in the United States. And while his brother-in-law, Lorenzo Bennett, had just recently opened his own gallery, Renny had nothing on the Lakefields’ status in the art world.
That’s exactly the impression Karena gave him: refined, delicate, priceless—a piece of art worth buying for whatever price was asked.
“Good. I’m glad that whole episode is over. I feel so bad for Noelle and all that she’s been through.”
“Yeah, but she’s got Brock now, so I’m sure she’ll be well taken care of from here on out.”
“Humph, must be nice,” she said with a frown then looked out the window.
The plane was just about to take off when Karena’s cell phone chimed. She cursed and answered it quickly, looking around to make sure none of the flight attendants noticed that she hadn’t turned it off as they’d asked.
“Hello?” she whispered.
“What? Monica, I’m on the plane. Can this wait until I get home? No, I don’t leave again for another two weeks.
“It’ll be fine if we wait, Monica. Yes. I know.” She rolled her eyes skyward and sucked in a breath as the plane lifted from the ground. The worst parts of flying were takeoff and landing, in her book.
“I know, Monica. Look, I’m hanging up. I’ll call you when I get home.
“Okay,” she sighed. “I’ll call you when we land.”
“Trouble on the home front?” Sam asked when she’d snapped the phone closed, turned it off and stuffed it into her purse.
“Not exactly. My older sister, Monica, is a slave driver.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, she manages our family gallery in Manhattan while I do all the buying and supervise the sales division.”
“I see, a family business. I know all about those.”
“Are you in a family business?”
“Nah, I’m one of the apples that fell far from the tree,” he chuckled. “My family owns restaurants up and down the eastern seaboard. But at my P.I. firm I employ mostly family members. My twin sister and Trent’s cousin to name a few.”
“That’s right, you and Trent are good friends. Well, I’ll tell you, people are constantly telling me to get a life, but Monica is the one who needs to take a chill pill,” Karena said with a grin.
“Really? That’s interesting,” Sam said thoughtfully.
“How so?”
“Is Monica involved with anyone right now?”