Scandal

Jordan reached out one finger to touch his soft bottom lip. Yep. He was still there, tangible and 3-D. “Wow.”

“Do I know you?” he asked.

He narrowed his eyes, boldly surveying her from top to bottom, making her feel warm under his intent gaze. And more turned on than ever. She didn’t feel free and saucy anymore in her miniskirt and camisole. Instead with her skirt scrunched up and covering almost nothing, Jordan felt indecent, naked, exposed.

“I thought—” He broke off and then started again, pulling his eyes away from her body to focus on her face. “You seem very familiar to me. But surely I’d remember if we’d met before.”

“Only in my dreams,” she said without thinking. The vivid memory of the lovemaking in those dreams was making her heart beat fast. She smiled. “You don’t know how glad I am to finally meet you, Nick.”

Closing her eyes, she tangled her arms around his neck. She held on tight, enjoying the feel of his arousal, so amazingly right . She’d been with him many times in her fantasies. All the things she associated with Nick came flooding back. Comfort, belonging, destiny…

And sex. Oh, yeah.

Dear Reader,

When I was asked to be part of the PERFECT TIMING miniseries for the Harlequin Blaze line, I was eager to jump in. I have always loved time travel. There’s something romantic and exciting about characters leaving their old world behind and leaping into somewhere dangerous and different.

It didn’t take me long to choose turn-of-the-century Chicago, with the lovely White City of the 1893 Columbian Exposition and World’s Fair as a backdrop.

Like my heroine Jordan, I studied history, with “Scandalous Women” such as Catherine the Great and Marie Antoinette showing up in my favorite classes. I love the idea of someone like Jordan—perfectly normal in her own time, longing to rock a few more boats than she really does—hitting Victorian times with a bang!

I tossed Jordan into the White City alongside Nick Tempest, who is himself chafing to break free of the restrictions of wealth and privilege of his time, and upped the ante by sticking them both under a shockingly beautiful marble arch carved with sexually charged images. For Nick and Jordan, the arch’s erotic powers are impossible to resist.

Scandal, sex, art and romance…Sounds like the stuff history is made of!

Happy reading!

Julie Kistler

Julie Kistler is well-known for her fast-paced romantic comedies for the Harlequin Temptation and Harlequin Duets lines. Now she’s excited to be writing for Harlequin Blaze—and flirting with the past in Scandal , part of the PERFECT TIMING time-travel miniseries. “I love a challenge,” this former RITA^>® Award nominee exclaims with a grin. Julie and her husband live in Illinois. Check out Julie’s Web site at www.juliekistler.com.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

How to Be a Scandalous Woman, Rule 1:

Throw out the rules.

J ORDAN A LBRIGHT’S OFFICE DOOR creaked open. “Professor Albright? Can I ask you something?”

Without even looking up from her laptop, Jordan said automatically, “No, Catherine the Great did not have sex with a horse. And, no, Marie Antoinette was not a ‘major ho-bag,’ as somebody put it last week.” She smiled as she glanced at the young woman hovering in the doorway. “Anything else you want to know, you’ll have to come to class. And I’m not Professor Albright. Just Jordan, okay?”

But the student lingered, shifting her weight to her other platform sandal. “How did you know what I was going to ask?”

Jordan tried to be patient. “It’s not hard. I’m only teaching one class this semester. Scandalous Women 101. Everybody wants to know the same thing.”

“And you’re sure Catherine the Great never, you know, did it with a horse?” the girl persisted.

“Yes, I’m sure.” With that, Jordan turned her attention back to the display on her computer screen, trying not to be frustrated by this latest in a series of interruptions.

“Thanks, Professor Albright.” The student ducked into the hallway, already moving on.

“Come to class, okay?” Jordan called out after her. This time she didn’t bother to correct the “professor” thing. At twenty-six she was only a few years older than some of her students, so she kind of enjoyed being called “professor” every now and again, even if she hadn’t really achieved that status yet. Nope. Just a lowly grad student. A lowly grad student working desperately to get her PhD sooner rather than later.

Jordan heard footsteps patter down the wood floor of the hallway as the student departed.

Thank goodness. Now if only she could concentrate long enough to figure out a decent ending to the damn dissertation that had been plaguing her for the better part of four years.