First You Kiss 100 Men.... Carolyn Greene

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СКАЧАТЬ back view of her wasn’t bad, though. Her slim-fitting pink body shirt, decorated with large black question marks, showcased the taper from ribs to waist, and a soft black leather skirt skimmed her narrow hips, falling to the middle of her thighs. Hunter drank in the view. By now, she’d switched to Marilyn Monroe’s version of the song, going so far as to act it out by bending forward slightly and placing her palms on the tops of those mind-boggling legs.

      The voice, though tickling his mind with its familiarity, left a lot to be desired, but that didn’t matter as long as his gaze caressed her gently rounded rump. Hunter’s body responded in a way that had him thinking of hot, sweaty nights and wrinkled sheets. He turned to leave before his libido led him to do something he might regret.

      That’s when the brunette turned, arms outstretched, and milked the final words of the song. ‘‘…to you…!’’

      Julie Beth Fasano? No, it couldn’t be. The last time he’d seen his former neighbor, he’d been about to depart for college, and she’d been a barefoot, gangly kid of eleven. A tomboy who untiringly dogged his tracks, often inviting herself to accompany him on dates with her older sister.

      He blinked and looked again. This was no tomboy. All traces of the scraggly hair, skinned knees and crooked teeth had evaporated, and in their place was a lovely young woman with below-the-shoulder curls, legs that seemed to go on forever, and sweet pouty lips that dared a man to kiss them.

      Hunter took a couple of deep breaths as he assessed the changes that had taken place in his pesky former neighbor over the past dozen years or so. Half a lifetime for her.

      She played to the audience, and their eyes met. Hunter gave her an embarrassed smile. The girl—er, woman—had always had a knack for getting under his skin. He just hoped she wouldn’t know how much she’d affected him today. She returned his smile with a polite one of her own. Their gazes lingered a mere second longer, but it was enough time for him to notice the quizzical expression she shot him. The message seemed clear. She didn’t recognize him.

      It wouldn’t hurt to stay and watch the rest of her performance. He wouldn’t get any work done anyway as long as he knew she was still out here. Hunter joined the others as they applauded her overacted performance. To his surprise, not to mention Len’s, she bent and gave the older man a quick kiss and once again wished him a happy birthday before gathering up her ukulele and car keys.

      Lucky Len.

      Lingering by the exit while Len’s assistant tipped her for the singing telegram, Hunter moved to intercept Julie Beth on the way out. He would remind her who he was and watch her reaction. And maybe inquire after her grandmother.

      But when she approached and gave him that same shy, questioning smile, the words in his head vanished. Neither spoke for a moment, and the silence hung awkwardly between them when he made no move to let her pass.

      Her pale blue eyes darkened slightly. The fringe of dark, sultry lashes and the brash, upward jut of her chin reminded him she was no longer a child. Little Julie Beth wasn’t so little anymore.

      Seeing her standing there like that, her face tilted as if inviting him to partake in the kiss he’d coveted earlier, he blurted the first words that came to his mind. ‘‘My birthday’s tomorrow.’’

      Those dark lashes widened almost imperceptibly, alerting him that his remark had surprised her as much as himself. And then her freckle-spattered face was covered with a broad, uncensored smile. Standing on tiptoe, the ukulele dangling at her side, she whispered, ‘‘Happy birthday!’’ and touched her soft lips to his.

      Forgetting about adhering to workplace procedures or saving social pursuits until the appointed break time, Hunter returned the kiss and felt himself respond in a way that was decidedly unprofessional. Not to mention painful.

      It was as if she had locked up his brain and handed the key to his mutinous body. He pulled her to him, seeking release in the sweet sensation of her touch, but that only served to fan the flames even higher. And when she lifted her arms to encircle his neck, he didn’t even care that she banged the ukulele against his rump.

      Her mouth, which he remembered as being full of sass and mischief, was now sweetly compliant as he explored her tender lips with his own. Her strawberry-flavored lipstick teased his senses, making him hunger for more. The soft curve of her breasts pressed against his chest, and Hunter damned the suit jacket he was wearing for adding an extra layer between them.

      It was seconds—or maybe minutes, or even days—later when he reluctantly lifted his head to end the kiss. Julie Beth exhaled deeply and dragged her arms from around his neck. Her motions were slow, almost as if she were drugged.

      ‘‘Hear, hear!’’ said Len in an appreciative tone. The rest of the staff signaled their agreement with cheers and thunderous applause.

      Hunter swallowed. He didn’t regret what he’d done, but he hoped Julie Beth wasn’t embarrassed by the attention. His gaze still fixed on the delicate features of her face, he sought to lighten the mood and, at the same time, cut an escape hatch for himself.

      He asked his partner, ‘‘What’s today’s date?’’

      ‘‘April first,’’ the old guy said.

      Julie Beth narrowed her eyes at him as she caught on to what was happening.

      ‘‘April fool,’’ he told her with a teasing grin. ‘‘Tomorrow’s not my birthday.’’

      She tucked the ukulele under her arm and maneuvered past him. ‘‘I know.’’ Shooting him a wink over her shoulder as she headed down the hall toward the elevator, her skirt swaying in a devilish salute, she added, ‘‘Your birthday is in August.’’

      ‘‘I think Anna is seeing someone.’’

      If it were anyone other than his brother making this outrageous statement, Hunter would laugh and tell him to get a hobby and stop letting his imagination run amok. As a judge and a pillar of the community, however, Peter Matthews was not prone to creating fanciful tales.

      ‘‘She’s been slipping out at odd times of the day and night, and she refuses to tell me where she’s going.’’ Peter’s face tightened in pain. He stabbed at the chicken with his fork. ‘‘And yesterday, when I looked in her tote bag for a pen, I found some racy lingerie.’’

      Hunter’s sister-in-law had been a devoted wife and mother during her eighteen years of marriage. As much as Hunter tried, he couldn’t imagine her hurting Peter like this. Not intentionally, anyway. ‘‘There must be a reasonable explanation for her behavior.’’

      ‘‘Things haven’t been well between us for a while.’’ Peter met his eyes and then looked away. ‘‘I want you to follow my wife. Find out what she’s been up to. It’s important that we keep this unpleasantness out of the media.’’ He leaned forward and lowered his voice as if to emphasize the importance of what he was about to say. ‘‘With the reappointment coming up, I can’t afford a messy scandal.’’

      Hunter set his napkin on the table. He had no wish to get in the middle of their marital difficulties, but an impartial third party might be able to help them. ‘‘You don’t need an investigator,’’ he said gently, ‘‘but a good counselor could probably help.’’

      Peter clenched his jaw. ‘‘I already suggested that to Anna. She wouldn’t go.’’

      ‘‘Did СКАЧАТЬ