Extraits

Chapter 1

“Honestly, Holly. Hot wax on the nipples is not everything it’s cracked up to be.”

Across the table that separated them, Holly McTierney swirled the straw in her unsweetened iced tea and barely batted an eyelash at her BFF’s pronouncement, but she did lean forward a little.

“Do tell.”

Liz Benning flushed and averted her eyes. They’d had dozens, possibly hundreds of conversations over the years – some downright scandalous – about things like this. This time it was a little different, though, because they weren’t discussing a scene in Holly’s latest book or hypothetically pondering the pros and cons of the latest in erotic gadgetry. This time, it hit a bit closer to home.

Her gaze landed on the basket of warm, buttery rolls. They were nestled in white linen and baked to a perfect, golden brown with a slight satiny sheen that appealed to the eye. A bit of steam rose up from the top, carrying with it an aroma that had her mouth watering.

Why did restaurants feel the need to put those on the table like that? Why couldn’t they bring out complimentary celery sticks or baby carrots instead? It was as if they were trying to sabotage the carb-shunning, post-thirty metabolisms of women everywhere by providing enough enticement to test even the greatest of wills.

She moved the deliciously offensive basket to the inside edge of the booth table and arranged the stand-up menu in front of it to reduce the temptation, then groaned. The glossy 5 x 7 picture of a fried caramel apple cheesecake wasn’t much better, and she needed to be good. She had a birthday coming up soon, and she was going to have cake. Or at the very least, cupcakes.

“Is it that new guy in your complex?” Holly prodded, sweeping a lock of chestnut-colored hair away from her face, her green eyes sparkling mischievously. “The financial analyst? Based on what you’ve told me about him, he sounds like a real-life Christian Grey.”

Liz had no idea if her new neighbor was into that kind of thing, but he did look as if it was a distinct possibility. With his stylishly-cut sable hair, panty-wetting hazel eyes, and tailored suits, he certainly projected the image of a “realistic” version of the fictional billionaire.