âSam, what are you doing to me?â
Hopefully driving him half as wild as he was driving her. With Jack standing so close, cupping her face with his big hands, avoiding a dance had become the last thing on her mind. âI should mentionââ Sam sank her teeth into his earlobe, thrilling to the sound that dragged from him ââitâs been a little too long for me. Iâm liking this way too much.â
âDonât tell me that.â His hand skimmed up her back, while the other rested on her hip. His thumb glided over her belly, then moved upward, stroking each rib as it climbed. He traced her last rib, then just barely touched the bottom curve of her breast.
All the while his gaze held her, conveying hunger, passion, desireâ¦more heady than the champagne sheâd sipped. She let out a shuddery breath.
Then his thumb made another sweep, not quite touching her nipple, and she had to concentrate on breathing.
Sinking her fingers into his hair, she brought his mouth back to hers, and their moans mingled, becoming part of the crazy, wild kiss.
Dear Reader,
Iâve always wanted to be a surfer girl. I grew up in L.A. in the fun and sun, but alas, I was never coordinated enough to make it on a surfboard. So I created a heroine who was. Samantha OâRyanâSam to her friendsâis one tough cookie. Sheâs had to be. Surfing in the mornings, running her little café in the afternoons, she thinks she has it all.
Enter one Jack Knight, ex-basketball star and current rich bum. After a life in the limelight, all he wants is peace and quiet. But then these two are thrown together by one well-meaning nosy older sister, a fancy charity event complete with obnoxious paparazzi, and a dunking booth.
Oh, and throw in a red-hot, undeniable attraction like nothing either Sam or Jack have ever experienced. Watch them both fall hard. Hope you do, too.
Best wishes and happy reading,
Jill Shalvis
SAMANTHA OâRYAN had been eyeing half-naked, wet, glistening men for hours under the guise of teaching them to surf. Theyâd offered to pay her but, truthfully, sheâd gotten the most out of the deal. She just loved being in the water, on her board. After she finished giving the group of college kids pointers, she walked down the beach and up the stairs to let herself into her outdoor café, where she went to work on her second loveâcreating fun, exotic sandwiches.
As she served her customers, she realized she had no plans after work, her favorite kind of evening. She could bodysurf by moonlight if she chose, or drive up Pacific Coast Highway as far as a tank of gas would take herâ¦anything.
That was the beauty of being unencumbered.
Although she wouldnât mind being temporarily encumberedâfor a night, that is. It had been a long dry spell without a guy around.
Her own fault.
âYou sold everything.â Lorissa Barrett, her best friend and part-time server at the Wild Cherries café, looked surprised as she surveyed the empty display cases at the cash register. âWell, except the brownies. You make terrible brownies.â
âHey, thanks.â
But Lorissa was right. Everything but the brownies were gone, including the new turkey-with-mango-spread special. Sam could drum up inventive stuff like that with ease, bake the most mouthwatering cookies on the planet, but she failed at brownies every single time. She knew why; she just didnât like to think about it.
âSorry.â Looking anything but, Lorissa leaned against the counter, her amusement slowly fading.
âUh-oh,â Sam said. âWhat is it?â
âNothing.â
They had a long history and knew each other better than anyone else did. âIf itâs nothing, then stop staring at me like youâre trying to get your nerve up for something.â
âIâm not.â
Sam shrugged and turned back to cleaning the countertop.
Lorissa sighed. âOkay, I have this favor.â
âPass.â It was a hot one today, and Sam swiped at her forehead, then dusted off the display cases.
âYou canât turn down a favor when you donât even know what it is.â Lorissa tossed back her long, red, wildly curly hair and pushed out her full, highly glossed lower lip in a pout that was extremely effective on men, but not on Sam.
âSure I can. In fact, I just did.â Sam moved outside to the bright red plastic tables, wiping them down, lowering their red-and-white-striped umbrellas, all the while watching the sun slowly sink into the glorious Pacific Ocean. âWhen you ask for a favor in the same tone you might mention a funeral, I know better than to even hesitate.â Sam stretched out the muscles in her neck and back, and thought a midnight swim later tonight might be just the thing she needed, especially in lieu of a man.
âYou could at least let me tell you what the favor is.â
âI do not want a blind date,â Sam said emphatically.