The Honeymoon That Wasn't. Debbi Rawlins
“I’m serious. Guys at my club spend hours there and they don’t look nearly as good as you.”
Tony scoffed at Dakota’s remark. “Too much sitting behind desks. All they need to do is get off their backsides and do some manual work once in a while.”
Although there was nothing wrong with her backside, he thought, so round and firm, and her breasts… He had to look away.
“You don’t use weights?” she asked, shifting on the hotel bed, cupping a hand over his biceps, almost reverently following the curve of the muscle.
His ego shot up a notch. “I have a couple of dumbbells at home, mostly to help me loosen up. That’s it.”
She smiled at him. “We’re supposed to order room service for dinner.”
“Hungry?”
She reached for him. “Not for anything on the menu.”
Dear Reader,
Some of you will recognize the heroine’s sister, Dallas, and her new husband, Eric, from A Glimpse of Fire.
In that book Tony San Angelo, our new hero, worked with Dallas. I enjoyed him so much that I knew he had to have his own book. Choosing a heroine for him was a no-brainer. Like they say, opposites attract. And Dakota sure is attracted to Tony. In fact, this steamy chemistry is infectious as they can’t keep their hands off each other.
I’ve always loved revisiting characters in my books.
Even secondary ones, who can be especially fun and outrageous. I hated parting with them all in The Honeymoon That Wasn’t, but hope you enjoy the read.
Warm wishes,
Debbi Rawlins
The Honeymoon that Wasn’t
Debbi Rawlins
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Even after swearing she’d never move again, Debbi Rawlins recently relocated to central Utah with her husband, Karl, where she adopted Dugly, a half tabby−half Siamese cat, and a puppy named Maile. When she’s not writing she can be found feeding apples to the deer, who are too numerous to name. So she calls them all Piggy.
This is for Logan, the newest addition to our extended family. The cutest baby in the world.
Contents
Prologue
To: The Gang at Eve’s Apple
From: [email protected]
Subject: Insanity
I’m not sure why I’m writing to you guys. Besides the fact that it’s three in the morning and I can’t sleep. I know the reason for the insomnia, which doesn’t help one bit. Tomorrow night, no, <sigh> I guess technically tonight, is my sister’s wedding rehearsal dinner. That part’s great. She’s met this terrific guy and I’m really happy for her.
The problem is that I’ll see Tony again. A friend of my sister’s. He’s part of the wedding party. I met him only once, almost a year ago at the job site where they worked. He was wearing a tight white T-shirt and, my, oh, my, what a chest.
He’s tall, too, at least six feet, broad shoulders, dark wavy hair, chocolate-brown eyes and a kind of square jaw. You get the picture. The guy is hot.
So why am I dreading tonight like I would a trip to the dentist? But I’m also looking forward to it. Does that make sense? If so, explain it to me, would you?
Oh, by the way, I’m not new to the group but I’ve been lurking for a while. To be honest, I never thought I’d post anything. Too busy. And besides, it’s not my style. Or so I thought. This guy has my brain going in circles.
Frankly, if I were by myself and met him at a bar, it would be a no-brainer. I’m not into one-night stands though for him I’d make an exception. But that he knows my sister, and will be meeting my parents and brother tonight, complicates everything. I’m definitely not interested in anything long-term. Anyway, he’s not someone who’s in the game plan. No one is, really. I’ve been lucky. My career is taking off. A social life? What’s that?
I’m a lawyer and due in court in six hours. I’m so tired. I truly wish I could sleep. But that’s not going to happen. And now I’m rambling. Enough. If anyone is out there with some advice or even to confirm that I’m totally out of my mind, I’d appreciate it.
Thanks for reading this.
D
DAKOTA STARED at her laptop’s screen for a moment. She was tempted to erase the e-mail. Writing it had been therapeutic—she didn’t need to send it. Nor did she really need a reply. Nothing anyone could write would make her act on her impulse to spend a carte blanche night with Tony. She was too chicken to do anything like that. Not to mention that her family knew him. Or they would by tonight.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. What did she have to lose? If she were to get a response, at least it would be something to do since she couldn’t sleep anyway. Besides, what would it hurt to get some feedback? She pressed the send button before she could change her mind again.
After setting the laptop on her nightstand, she got rid of one of the pillows she’d stacked behind her back and plumped the remaining