Slanting his mouth over hers in a smooth glide, deliberately light and teasing, he offered a kiss that hinted and lured rather than taking outright.
Cali shuddered, her breath slipping over his lips with a soft moan. He pulled back to meet her gaze. âThat good, huh?â
Her lips curved as she drank him in through half-lidded eyes. âIâd forgotten just how good that felt.â The tip of her tongue darted out to moisten the sexy swell of her pink bottom lip.
âWasnât much of a kiss, if you ask me,â he murmured. âI can do better.â
Her eyes darkened like smoked sea glass and locked on his mouth, sending âgoâ signals toward his groin. Her breath hitched as, moving closer, he traced the smooth line of her delicate jaw with his thumb, sifted his fingers through the silky hair at the nape of her neck, and tilted her face to his.
âMaybe just one more,â she whispered breathlessly, her lips an enticing invitation.
âOne more,â he agreed, intent on doling out a kiss with every skill and seductive nuance heâd honed since high school packed into it. And that kiss would become the prelude to a night in bed.
Dear Reader
Have you ever had a connection to a place that neither time nor distance could sever?
I have. Chicago.
Itâs the city of my youthful heart and romantic memories. Itâs where I grew up, became a woman, and learned to love. When I began writing WILD FLING OR A WEDDING RING? I found myself mentally walking the streets, dropping by old haunts, and picking out all that I loved about the city to give to my heroine, Cali, to discover.
In the end this book became a bit of a love letter to Chicago, and I hope Iâll be able to share some of what makes this city so special to me with you.
Do you have a city thatâs stolen your heart? If so, drop by my website at www.miralynkelly.com and share your stories.
Mira
Wild Fling or A Wedding Ring?
By
Mira Lyn Kelly grew up in the Chicago area, and earned her degree in Fine Arts from Loyola University. She met the love of her life while studying abroad in Rome, Italy, only to discover heâd been living right around the corner from her for the previous two years. Having spent her twenties working and playing in the Windy City, sheâs now settled with her husband in rural Minnesota, where their four beautiful children provide an excess of action, adventure and entertainment.
With writing as her passion, and inspiration striking at the most unpredictable times, Mira can always be found with a notebook at the ready. (More than once sheâs been caught by the neighbours, covered in grass clippings, scribbling away atop the compost container!)
When she isnât reading, writing, or running to keep up with the kids, she loves watching movies, blabbing with the girls, and cooking with her husband and friends. Check out her website www.miralynkelly.com for the latest dish!
This is Miraâs first book!
To my husband, Chris. I love you.
STYLED in 1930s décor, the Jazz House was an inconspicuous place, classy and understated, tucked into a quiet corner of Chicagoâs downtown Streeterville neighborhood. Smoky melodies, thick with heartbreak and yearning, drifted through the dark club, curling around hushed conversations and seeping beneath the tensions of the day.
Seated toward the back of the high-polish bar, Calista McGovern swirled rough chunks of ice in her gin and tonic, savoring the pull of blue notes at her soul. This was a place she could get used to.
That was it would be, if the next two months werenât committed to an assignment that left little chance of Cali seeing the light of dayâor even the dark of night for that matterâbefore it ended. She was Project Manager for the multibillion-dollar retail conglomerate MetroTrek, and her stint in the Windy City guaranteed long hours under the steady hum of fluorescent lights, broken only by meals on the run and the necessity to sleep.
Chicago was about work. It was a stepping stone to the new London expansion position her New York-based boss, Amanda Martin, had all but promised herâif she could nail the Chicago job first. It was the opportunity Cali had been waiting for.
Her plane had touched down on the OâHare tarmac three hours before. She would have been elbow-deep in work already if it hadnât been for Amandaâs insistence that she spend her first night in Chicago out on the town. And, more specifically, at this club.
As a rule, Cali wasnât much of a suck-up, but with the London position hovering on the horizonâthe restoration of a career sheâd nearly destroyed all but completeâcatering to her bossâs whims seemed a reasonable accommodation.
Amanda had discovered the club through her little sisterâs husband, Jackson, last time sheâd been home for a visit, and hadnât stopped talking about it since. Normally mention of anything associated with the beloved brother-in-law earned a mental eye-roll from Cali. As Amanda told itâoften in excruciating detailâJackson could do no wrong. As Cali heard it, Amanda harbored some deep-seated crush on the guy, and any opinion even remotely tied to him should be taken with a grain of salt.