検索キーワード： 著者 "Staci Hart" すべてのカテゴリー

He plays the bass with expert fingers. He plays women with intoxicating charm. And he’ll play me with the ease of a virtuoso. Who better to teach me to play than the master himself? I’m his model student, front row, pencil sharp. Pick-up lines? I’ve got them. Free drinks? By the dozen. Kissing? Let me grab my chapstick. But the most valuable lesson I’ve learned is that there’s so much I don’t know - like why his touch sets off a chain reaction straight to my nethers…or how I’m certain each kiss is the best I’ll ever have…until the moment his lips take mine again.

His body is as chiseled as Adonis. His lips are as sculpted as David. And his ego is the size of the Guggenheim. You know the type: wolfish smile and the gravity of a black hole - the kind of man who sucks all the air from the room the second he enters it. My cocky boss thinks this internship was wasted on me, and he doesn’t hesitate to let me know. But he’s wrong, and I’m going to prove it to him. If I can stay away from his devil lips, that is....

Twelve years ago, my first and only love left town and never came back. How dare he show up now, looking like that, and he’s running against me for mayor. It’s unfair, him standing there, too tall and handsome for his own good. It’s audacious that his clothes accentuate every lean, strong curve of his body. It’s universal BS that his smile makes my heart flipflop, and it’s patently un-freaking-believable that my body would betray me when he turns that gorgeous smile on me.

No one can ever have Keaton Meyer. Least of all me. The brooding construction manager is a man of myth and legend, rarely seen in the wild. Once upon a time, he was the star quarterback, the smiling homecoming king, royalty in our small town. Until tragedy struck. And then he disappeared completely. Now he’s resurfaced, and I can’t keep my eyes off him. He’s an island surrounded by lava, bound by a desert and guarded by dragons. I don’t stand a sunshine’s chance in a hail storm.

When the devil comes to town, you have to meet him head-on. Which is exactly what I did when Grant Stone rolled into our small Texas town, driving a sports car I could fit in the bed of my truck, wearing a suit as black as his soul. He’s here to acquire mineral rights to half a dozen farms in town. And there’s no way he’s getting mine. I don’t make deals with the devil.