By Donna Kauffman
Uh-oh. decent evening supervisor Sophie Maplethorpe is ready to damage and enter--in her personal lodge. Worse, she geese into the inaccurate room! yet it truly is tough to be sorry whilst she discovers the main horny, mysterious man in it....International defense specialist Simon Lassiter is at the verge of discovering a stolen precious--and pricey--gem...until the main criminally inept yet majorly sizzling lady creeps into his room. a lot to their soon-discovered mutual pleasure!But Simon's bought genuinely-earned savvy and class. he is not approximately to belief a girl who simply occurred to stumble right into a significant heist.Not no matter if she is prepared to do whatever Simon says within the bedroom....
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Extra resources for Simon Says... (Harlequin Blaze)
She glanced at the glowing red numbers on the bedside stand. Twelve minutes to seven. Super. She renewed her efforts on the second chair. Scooting closer, she dug deeper, then deeper still, only to find— She pulled out a pair of black string bikinis. “Ew,” she said, flinging them instinctively before she could check the reflex action. ” Sophie froze. Shit, shit, shit. But even though her brain was threatening to go into full-blown panic mode, there was another part of her that couldn’t help but react to that voice.
All this, and I snuck into the wrong damn room. ” He nodded. ” Simon didn’t understand what she was muttering about, but whatever had pissed her off wasn’t his problem. Getting into Tolliver’s room and stealing—retrieving—the emerald before it went on display at the Art Institute Museum this weekend, that was his problem. “Have a seat,” he told her, motioning to the chair behind her with the gun barrel. ” “Do you really need to point that gun at me? I assure you, I’m not dangerous. ” “Ah, but you did pretend we’d met.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door, making Sophie jump, then freeze. Now what? Room service probably. Great. If whoever was delivering recognized her, and there was a better than average chance of that happening, she was well and truly screwed. Like you’re not already. Then she noted that his entire demeanor had changed. No longer smiling, the muscles across his chest and shoulders tensed—and even more clearly defined—he grabbed the sheet and dragged it around his hips as he stood. ” Sophie looked up—way up—to where he towered, Roman godlike, over her, and was pretty sure she couldn’t have moved even if she’d wanted to.
Simon Says... (Harlequin Blaze) by Donna Kauffman