Turn Up the Heat. Isabel Sharpe

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      Her turn to gape at him, but unfortunately not because he was the hottest thing she’d seen all winter long as had been the situation when he was doing it. “How did you know?”

      “My last name is Case.”

      “Case?”

      “Justin …”

      “Justin Case.” She cringed, where every other person who made the connection burst out laughing. “Oof. Sorry.”

      “Thanks.” He was distracted by the way her full curving lips were colored a plummy shade that complemented her top. She parted those lips and her breath emerged, a soft white cloud in the dim light. He had a sudden and urgent desire to kiss her, and when he lifted his gaze to her eyes and felt the earthquake shock of attraction, he almost did.

      Almost. “Uh, yeah, my dad was quite the jokester, too.”

      “Apparently.” She broke the eye contact, glancing across the street at his house. “Well, welcome to the neighborhood, Justin Case. How long have you been here?”

      “Since November.” He put his glove back on, crossed his arms over his chest. She had dynamite eyes, lashes long but not fake-looking; subtle liner and smoky brown shadow made them large and smoldering, yet he had the feeling that when she wasn’t dressed and made-up in one of her guises, she’d look farm-girl sweet. Nothing turned him on more than the combination of heat and innocence. He wanted to ask if she was seeing anyone, and how she’d feel about staying indoors with him for the rest of this miserable season. “Pretty serious cold here today, huh.”

      “Today?” She blinked at him.

      “My thermometer said eighteen. Brutal!” He shook his head, taken aback when she looked puzzled. “For this time of year, I mean.”

      “You’re not from Wisconsin, are you.”

      “Uh. Southern California?”

      She smirked. “That explains it. Eighteen is a pretty normal temperature. This winter has actually been really mild. We usually go subzero in January.”

      He shuddered. Were there flights out of Milwaukee to anywhere warm leaving this afternoon?

      “It’s not that bad.” She shifted on the sidewalk, gesturing with her hands in her pockets; her sweater gaped and he got a very nice eyeful. She wasn’t tall—he was six-one and she came up to his chin in those incredible boots—but perfectly proportioned. If anything could warm him up … “What made you move here, Justin?”

      “A book contract.” His teeth started to chatter; he wondered if she’d think he was making a move on her if he invited her to continue their conversation inside.

      “No, kidding! What about?”

      “An interactive how-to computer manual. There will be a disk with the book, and an e-version. In the ebooks, readers will be able to click links to pursue subjects further, see short animated demos or try out software screens. We’re trying to duplicate a classroom experience. A friend pitched the idea to our publisher. He’s the computer guy. I’m the writer.” Could she tell his sentences were getting shorter and shorter as his body started to want to shake in earnest? It took more and more energy to hold still. Not macho to start violent trembling. “If it flies they’ll want a whole series.”

      “No kidding! That is most excellent. Did you write in California? Where were you from exactly? I have a friend in L.A.” Her conversation tumbled out, as if she’d been holding back before.

      “I’m from Solana Beach, outside San Diego. Yes, I wrote, technical manuals for a scientific engineering company.”

      “Oh, wow. That sounds so …” She faltered.

      “Unbelievably exciting? Universe-altering, in fact?”

      “Of course.” She tipped her head, smiling again, hair hanging in a shiny curtain behind her right ear. If he wasn’t about to turn into Frosty the Snowman, he’d really enjoy being on the receiving end of that deep-brown gaze, imagining what else she might find unbelievably exciting.

      But he was about to turn into Frosty the Snowman.

      “Listen, I know you natives consider this a balmy day in paradise, but I am about to start dropping limbs. Would you like to bring this conversation over to my house? I have coffee on, though at this point I’m thinking of bathing in it.”

      She laughed. “I’d love to, but I have a … date.”

      “Yeah, okay.” He was surprised to be so disappointed. But of course a woman like this would have a boyfriend, or guys all over her. Guys who’d walk around on a day like today in shorts, shirtless and not even have their balls retract. His were somewhere up near where they’d been the day he was born. “I should have figured with you so dressed up.”

      “I don’t always dress like this.”

      He almost said “No kidding” but didn’t want her thinking—okay, knowing—that he’d taken a somewhat voyeur-type interest in her and was already curious about her abrupt changes in style. “Too bad.”

      She smiled, and under her sex-aura he thought he detected shyness. “Thank you.”

      “You … go on a lot of dates?”

      “Recently, yes.”

      He took a step back. He really liked the look of this woman, the way she smiled so often, and the sensual energy she emitted, but he wasn’t the type to stand in a testosterone line. Angie, his ex-girlfriend, was like that. A man-magnet, who was a lot better at attracting than at repelling, for which she was unapologetic, to say the least. She was one of the reasons he’d done more than just consider cutting ties to his home state.

      “I joined a dating site.”

      “Yeah?” He stopped moving back. That would explain all the dates—easy access to a pool of single guys. But not the variety of outfits. “How’s that working?”

      “Not bad. Not great.” She laughed. “Sometimes I don’t know if it’s such a good idea.”

      He nodded, not really understanding. For someone who didn’t think it was a good idea, she sure put a lot of effort into transforming herself.

      “My friend owns the site. Milwaukeedates.com. It’s … sort of a favor to her.”

      “Really.” Now that was interesting. She was going on dates to help out a friend, not to find someone? What about the women who signed up legitimately at the website? What about the poor men who thought they were on a real date and had a chance with her? “The company isn’t doing well? Needs more women?”

      “Oh.” She dropped her eyes, clearly flustered. “No, she … No, it’s doing very well. In fact, Marie won a Best Success Stories award last year from Women in Power, a local organization of female business owners. I belong, too.”

      “Good for her.” His reporter instinct started humming. Something was making this appetizing Candy-gram pretty uncomfortable. After graduating with a degree in journalism from the University of Southern California, Justin made most СКАЧАТЬ