âI need to know your name, so I know what to cry out next time.â
âAnd I need to know yours,â Nate replied, giving the beautiful woman beside him a light nip on the neck. âSo I know who now owns me body and soul.â
She stretched out lethargically and kissed his jaw. Then, lifting a shoulder, she allowed the robe to fall completely off one arm. As he bent lower to taste that sweet, smooth skin, she whispered, âMy nameâsââ
Before she could finish, the door opened, and a light flashed on. âItâs J.T.,â Nate said. âOh, boy.â
âOh, boy is right,â the woman echoed, her horror undisguised.
Nate shifted slightly to the side, hiding her behind him, as J. T. Birmingham entered the room.
Taking stock of the situationâand not looking the least bit surprisedâJ. T. finally said, âSon, I think youâre wearing my robe.â
Nate groaned. Heâd been caught by a millionaire, wearing the manâs robe during an important cocktail party at which he was the guest of honor. Caught fooling around with a gorgeous stranger on that manâs trampoline. âCan things get any worse?â he muttered.
âAnd,â J.T. continued, âyouâre lying on top of my daughterâ¦.â
Dear Reader,
I love Broadway musicals. And Iâve always been fascinated by the thought of looking across a crowded room on âone enchanted eveningâ and finding a stranger who turns your world upside down. Thatâs exactly what happens to my heroine, columnist Lacey Clark, who falls instantly for a devastatingly attractive man during a crowded party. When she finds herself alone with him a few moments laterâand they end up naked on top of a trampolineâshe never imagines that sheâs in the arms of her nemesis, Nate Logan.
Can two enemies-turned-lovers navigate the rocky road to romance in the sometimes outrageous world of magazine publishing? I sure had fun finding out while writing Into the Fire.
Those of you who read my first Temptation novel, Night Whispers, will recognize some characters in this book. I was so happy to find just the right story for Kelsey Loganâs older brother, and I got a kick out of writing more of those sexy radio show segments. For my readers who have written to me asking for a sequelâ¦I hope this one lives up to your expectations.
Iâd love to hear what you think. Please drop me a line at P.O. Box 410787, Melbourne, FL 32941â0787, or write to me through my Web site: www.lesliekelly.com.
Enjoy,
Leslie Kelly
With love to the Smith kids:
Lynn, Donna, Karen, Cheri and Lee. I canât think of five other people Iâd rather have grown up withâtelephone poles and all.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
ALONE in a throng of elegantly dressed people, in the lavishly appointed reception room of a tasteful Baltimore mansion, Lacey Clark began to sweat. Not a ladylike beading of perspiration on her upper lip. Not a moistness at her temple. No. Her tight black cocktail dress was growing downright damp as each additional person oozed into the already overcrowded party. A few more minutes and there would be circles under her armpits and her makeup would run off her skin in great bisque streaks.
âGet me out of here,â she murmured, wondering if she could make it through the sea of people to the exit. Surely no one would notice if she slipped away. After all, she looked like practically every other woman in the place. Ninety percent of the females at the party wore the typical city social uniformâa little black cocktail dress, sheer black stockings, shiny, never seamed. Ridiculously high heels, useless tiny bag barely big enough to carry a tube of lipstick. Not to mention the confident expression disguising boredom.
Boredom always made Lacey Clark sweat. As did low-cut, skintight dresses and heels so high she wondered if she was going to fall on her fanny and humiliate herself in front of Baltimore society. Not that she really cared about Baltimore society. This was definitely not her crowd. Lacey would much rather have been at her favorite bar with her best friends.
For the hundredth time, she wished sheâd been able to find a way out of this eveningâs event. As if it wasnât bad enough that her dress was uncomfortably tight, her stockings scratchy and her makeup oozy, her entire life was about to change course. Lacey didnât like feeling cornered nor having her personal affairs made very, very public. And tonight, in her bossâs home, at a cocktail party where she was about to be honored for her job, she was also about to be set up for some major intrusion into her personal life. Her family. Her history. Her nice, orderly world.
âDammit,â she whispered, knowing things were completely beyond her control and not liking it one bit.
Nearby, two senior staff members from the magazine where she worked beckoned her closer. She smiled and pointed over her shoulder, implying she was waiting for someone. She didnât want to engage in small talk. Lacey just wanted to escape.