“Come on. Get wet with me.”
Now, there was a tempting thought. Without thinking twice, Trent kicked off his shoes and socks, dropping them in the sand. He pulled up the legs of his jeans, and together he and Chloe stepped ankle-deep into the water.
“I’d love to go swimming,” Chloe mused aloud.
“Feel free,” Trent offered. “I’ll even keep watch if you want to skinny-dip.”
“Keep watching, you mean,” she countered.
“That, too,” he admitted with an unrepentant shrug. “Seriously, if you want to get in, go ahead. Nobody’s around, it’s one in the morning…and your little red ensemble could be mistaken for a bikini anyway.”
“Ensemble? Oh, so you saw the bra, too?”
He grinned wickedly.
“I have absolutely no secrets left,” she said with a disgruntled sigh. She kicked water at him, soaking the bottom part of his jeans.
Trent chuckled and splashed her back. Then, growing serious, he stepped closer until their bodies were separated by only an inch of moonlight. “Honey, seeing what you’re wearing beneath your clothes is only making me more interested in seeing what’s underneath it all….”
Dear Reader,
Imagine two gorgeous, hunky men—one safe (or so you think) and one outrageously daring and provocative. Now imagine not realizing that they’re two different people…and getting involved with a twin you never knew existed! That’s exactly what happens to Chloe Weston in Two To Tangle.
Chloe is a hardworking, very creative woman who is determined to find a nice guy. No daredevils need apply. So when she finds herself involved in a passionate weekend with Troy Langtree, a conservative, respectable retail store manager, she thinks she’s found her man. Only, Troy is really Trent, Troy’s twin brother. And Trent is anything but conservative.
But boy, is he hot!
Writing Chloe and Trent’s story was a pure joy. I loved going all out with the humor and sensuality in this book, and I think I’ve found my favorite cast of secondary characters so far. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. If so, let me know. You can write to me at P.O. Box 410787, Melbourne, FL 32941–0787, or e-mail me at [email protected].
Happy reading,
Leslie Kelly
Two to Tangle
Leslie Kelly
To my editor, Brenda Chin.
Thank you for telling me how much you loved
this idea from the very beginning. It gave me the
incentive and the determination to make sure
the story became all it could be.
And to my girls, Caitlin, Lauren and Megan.
I’m so glad you each have sisters.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
1
“OKAY, LOVERBOY, I’m ready. I’ve been thinking about this all week. Now we’re alone. It’s time to get you out of all these uptight clothes and into something a little more comfortable.”
Not expecting a reply, and, of course, not receiving one, Chloe Weston reached for the buckle of an expensive black leather belt and deftly unfastened it. A quick flick of her fingers undid the button at the waist of a pair of men’s designer trousers. Finding the tab of the zipper, she lowered it gingerly. The metallic hiss of the zipper’s teeth broke the heavy silence of the room, followed by a wisp of fabric as the size thirty-two, char-coal-gray pants fell.
Dropping to her knees, she reached for the elastic waistband of a pair of fitted, white boxer briefs. She tugged them down in one stroke, then sat back and stared. After several long moments, she sighed.
“It’s Friday night. I’m a reasonably attractive, single, twenty-something woman and I’ve just taken off a man’s clothes.” Rubbing a weary hand over her brow, she muttered, “Too bad you’re as anatomically correct as a Ken doll.”
The mannequin didn’t respond. Nor did its female counterpart, which stood behind Chloe in the darkened front display window of Langtree’s Department Store.
What a way to spend a Friday night. Alone in a deserted, exclusive store in Boca Raton, Florida. Surrounded by designer clothes, ridiculously expensive leather goods, gaudy, pretentious jewelry…with a bunch of plastic mannequins for company.
Shrugging, Chloe referred to her notes to consider the positions of the mannequins for the next week’s display. Fridays were changeover nights for the store’s main front windows. A big deal, especially lately, since the store manager had finally started giving her some leeway to be more daring with the displays. Before tonight, she’d slipped her own creative touches only in the store’s rear windows near the service department, never the huge ones bracketing the main entrance.
Though she’d worked for Langtree’s for only six weeks, Chloe knew her creations had already drawn some attention. No, the managing director of the store, Troy Langtree, hadn’t been too happy when she’d gotten a little carried away with a spring bathing suit display, and left the itty-bitty top of a string bikini dangling from the plastic fingers of a randy-looking male mannequin. But the public had loved it. So much so that Langtree had finally agreed to listen to her ideas for the store’s main entrance area.
As she reached for the zipper of the cocktail dress still adorning the female mannequin, Chloe heard the rumbling of an engine. She peeked through the dark drapes covering the window, watching as a large, black pickup truck came to a stop directly outside at the curb in front of the store. Glancing at her watch and noting it was after midnight, she bit her lip. The night security guard had to be wandering around somewhere. But he could be just about anyplace in the three-story building. With her luck—and with his reputation—he was probably snoozing on a Serta mattress in the bedding department upstairs. That left her alone to deal with the gang of robbers who’d be throwing a bench through this very window at any moment now so they could raid the nearby jewelry cases.
Crouching lower, Chloe watched as one man—not a gang—emerged from the truck. Then, when the driver passed beneath a streetlamp, she got a good look at his face and his thick chestnut-brown hair. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Troy Langtree.”
The man was probably coming to check up on her, still fretting over what she might do to his precious windows. “Why do the gorgeous ones have to be so anal?” Chloe mused aloud with a sigh. He was handsome, no question, but about as loose and laid-back as Al Gore at a press briefing.
Troy had caught her eye more than once since she’d started working for his family-owned department store. He was, after all, single, successful, and a complete hunk. In some respects Troy was everything Chloe wanted in a man. The grapevine said he didn’t carouse or womanize, worked hard, was intelligent and stable. Just the opposite of the few men Chloe had ever dated—and also the opposite of her own father, two stepfathers, and her mother’s succession of boyfriends.
Exactly what she was looking for.
Or