“What were you thinking just now?” Carson asked in an intimate voice.
“That I’d be a fool to fall for you.”
He studied her awhile, not showing any reaction. “Are you ready to go?”
She nodded, and they walked out of the restaurant. A valet summoned Carson’s limo. The excessive show of wealth should have repulsed her. Instead, it was a fitting end to a wonderful evening—a drive home in a princess carriage. Everything she’d previously thought about rich people wasn’t true tonight.
Carson tugged Georgia’s hand. She stopped and faced him.
“I had a nice time tonight,” he said.
“I did, too.”
“I won’t tease you about that.” He grinned, sexy and full of affection.
Her heart flopped into more excited beats.
“I’d like to do this again, Georgia.”
“Oh … I …” She may as well have melted right there.
He slid his arm all the way around her, pulling her close. And then he kissed her … before she could react. His mouth over hers sent tingles of shocking pleasure all the way through her, brewing desire she wasn’t expecting.
“Gun!” someone shouted.
The Marine’s Temptation
Jennifer Morey
Two-time RITA® Award nominee and Golden Quill Award winner JENNIFER MOREY writes single-title contemporary romance and page-turning romantic suspense. She has a geology degree and has managed export programmes in compliance with the International Traffic in Arms Regulations (ITAR) for the aerospace industry. She lives at the feet of the Rocky Mountains in Denver, Colorado, and loves to hear from readers through her website, jennifermorey.com, or Facebook.
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Contents
Perceptions didn’t always reveal the truth about a man. What he appeared to be and what he was could be two different things. Surface and depth. The surface reflected the shell of the man, what he looked like, what he said, what he did. Underneath that, a well of secrets lurked. Painful secrets that death exposed. Ruthless and indifferent in life. Human in death. That about summed up Reginald Adair. Few had liked him, but then, no one had really known him, had they?
Carson Adair marveled over how little he knew his father when he thought he had. He spread his hands over the top of the desk. How would his father have felt sitting here? Powerful. Accomplished.
Detached.
Sad.
Human...
Carson would not have associated that word with his dad prior to his murder. But a gnawing curiosity had nestled inside him. If his father hadn’t been who he’d thought, who had he been?
He imagined what it must have been like to be the man at the top of a thriving telecommunications corporation, running the competition into the ground, doing whatever it took to keep shareholders happy and revenue flowing. Not caring about anything or anyone else. Maybe he rarely noticed the spectacular view of downtown San Diego. Maybe he rarely enjoyed a lunch or dinner for anything other than a business meeting.
His wife. His kids. He couldn’t have had many fond memories about them. Turns out Reginald had been consumed by the kidnapping of his first-born son. Indifference had hidden his grief.