âWhat do you want from me, Steele?â
Urgently he drew Judith flush against his chest. âYou know what I wantââ He groaned at the feel of her lower body pressuring his. âYou. In bed.â
She could barely breathe. âMe and the Great Protector, huh?â
âThatâs right.â
âI donât need a man to protect me, Steele.â
âSully,â he corrected, the tantalizing flick of his tongue coming after the hoarsely spoken name, sending delicious feelings swirling through her. âYou said youâd call me Sully if I was good.â
And he was good. Judith couldnât stop herself from wreathing her arms around his neck. Nobody had ever kissed her like this. Each thrust of his tongue was creating waves of internal pleasure. For so long sheâd hoped a man would sweep into her life and arouse her in a way she couldnât deny. âJust kiss me.â
His voice was almost a growl. âWhat the hell do you think Iâm doing?â
âTalking.â
âNot anymore.â And with that he carried her off to bed.
Dear Reader,
Welcome to the third book in my BIG APPLE BACHELORS miniseries, set in New York City. While each book can stand alone, youâll remeet characters I hope youâve come to love in previous stories. Now youâre about to meet the oldest, sexiest Steele brother, a man whoâs known as The Protector.
Like his younger brothers, Captain Sullivan Steele is one of New Yorkâs finest and hails from a great city with a legendary heart. Sullivan is intense and passionate, and I hope his story will deliver everything I love about Harlequin Temptation novelsâgreat sex, lots of emotion and a terrific happy ending that leaves you feeling good.
With all my best wishes,
Jule McBride
Meet all of New Yorkâs finest in the BIG APPLE BACHELORS miniseries
Truman is The Hotshot
Rex is The Seducer
Sullivan is The Protector
A month agoâ¦
âYOUR FATHERâS GUILTY.â Framed in the doorway to the squad room with uniformed officers milling behind her, Judith Hunt stood before him, her posture perfect. She was wearing a gray silk suit with a jacket most people would have removed due to the summer heat. Farther behind her, through a window, sunlight glanced off the jagged steel Manhattan skyline in hot metallic flashes. âYou know it,â she continued, surveying him through suspicious blue eyes, âand I know it, Steele.â
Steele, Sully thought. She usually used his last name, probably because she knew it grated on his nerves; on the rare occasion she used his first, it was always âSullivan,â never âSully.â
Standing behind his desk, he glanced down at the files littering the surface, his attention settling on a festive mug the officers had given him last Christmas. To Captain Steele: the Great Protector, it said, invoking Sullyâs nickname. The mug, when presented, had been brimming over with red-and-green condoms.
At least his men knew he was dedicated to ensuring safety. And unlike Judith, they had a sense of humor. Realizing with a start that she was scrutinizing his possessions, Sully shifted his eyes to hers again. He hated that he was reassessing everything now, wondering what conclusions Judith was drawing about him from the items, but he was glad the files made him look busy, which he was, and that sheâd noticed the mug, since it showed his men cared.
The only thing Sully regretted was the ship in a bottle. Too personal, he decided. Heâd built the ships when he was a kid, and heâd brought some into the office from a collection heâd otherwise divided between his parentsâ home and his downtown apartment. Built inside a Scotch bottle, the English galleon had five raised sails. It was from the late sixteenth century, with a sleek hull and low superstructure that rose toward a slate-and-teal-painted quarterdeck.
She arched an eyebrow. âA pirate ship?â
He shrugged with a casualness he never really felt in her presence, though why, he didnât know, since he was no stranger to beautiful women. Many times, his job had taken him into the homes of actresses and models. âDoesnât that figure?â he inquired mildly. âAfter all, my fatherâs a crook, right?â
âIâm not sure a pirate shipâs an appropriate ornament for the desk of a precinct captain,â she agreed calmly.
âI find flying a Jolly Roger very appropriate, Ms. Hunt.â
âThe Jolly Roger?â
âJolie Rouge,â Sully clarified, the French words feeling sensual in his mouth as he nodded toward the ship. âA red flag. They were meant to communicate that no quarter would be given. That any battle would be to the death.â
âIâll take that under advisement.â A heartbeat passed. âAnd thanks for the history lesson.â
âNo problem,â he returned amiably. âWhere better than a precinct headquarters to intimidate adversaries into surrender, to avoid costly fights?â