Leslie Kelly – The Guy Most Likely To...: Underneath It All / Can't Get You Out of My Head / A Moment Like This (страница 1)
Look what people are saying about these talented authors…
Leslie Kelly
“Kelly is a top writer, and this is another excellent book. 4½ stars.”
“A hip contemporary romance packed with great one-liners! 4½ stars.”
Janelle Denison
“Kudos to Ms Denison for her fantastic, hot, steamy love stories and the heroes that leave you wishing you had one just like him!”
“When I want a sensuous read, I know Ms Denison delivers what I want to read: sexy heroes, sassy heroines and sinfully erotic games to die for!”
Julie Leto
“Julie Leto certainly knows how to put the X in sex! A great and exciting read!”
“Get a cold drink when you sit down to read this one; this is one hot book!”
About the Authors
LESLIE KELLY has written dozens of books and novellas for Blaze. Known for her sparkling dialogue, fun characters and depth of emotion, her books have been honored with numerous awards, including a National Readers’ Choice Award, an
JANELLE DENISON is a
Over the course of her career,
The Guy Most
Likely To…
Underneath it All
Leslie Kelly
Can’t Get You Out of My Head
Janelle Denison
A Moment Like This
Julie Leto
To Janelle and Julie. This project has been a long time coming…I’m so thrilled we got to work together at last! Long live the Plotmonkeys!
THIS YEAR’S PROM WAS a huge success!
Held at the downtown Marriott, the members of the class of 2002 partied the night away in their tuxes and glittering dresses. The decorating committee’s “A Night in Paris” theme was a big hit and made everyone feel like they were strolling along the Seine or posing for pictures beneath the Eiffel Tower.
Deejay “Mad Mike” spun all the class’s favorite tunes, and students and faculty alike shook their stuff on the dance floor. The hotel-catered food was delicious, the punch managed to go all evening without being spiked and everyone had a great time.
There was only one incident, which left prom-goers whispering and confused.
What happened to Prom King Seth Crowder?
His queen—and longtime girlfriend—Lauren Desantos had to go up on the stage alone to be crowned, and her tears sure didn’t look like happy ones. Rumor has it that Seth stood Lauren up, with only a mysterious phone call to explain his absence.
The plot thickened Monday when word got out that Seth had withdrawn from Winfield Academy…and he hasn’t been seen or heard from since.
Which begs the question: Where’d he go?
One thing’s for sure—judging by the picture of Lauren up on that stage, all alone, looking absolutely heartbroken, Seth Crowder has some explaining to do!
STANDING AT THE BACK of the A–E line at the registration desk, her dark sunglasses shielding her eyes and her stiff posture discouraging communication, Lauren Desantos came to a sudden realization. The Marquis de Sade had invented the high school reunion. Him, or that Torquemada guy from the Spanish Inquisition.
It made perfect sense; there could be no other explanation. Only someone who enjoyed seeing others squirm in discomfort, who got off on inflicting pain, who thrived on reducing mature adults back to their overemotional, whiny, bitchy, competitive, miserable adolescent selves, would have thought this reunion thing was a good idea.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, along with the fear and discomfort came other remnants of high school days—nervous twitches, weak, fake-sounding laughter. Heck, even long-left-behind acne seemed to show up. It was probably brought about by the stress of wondering who you were going to run into first, who looked better than you did, who would notice the extra ten pounds you’d put on since graduation, who would remember you had once slipped on mashed potatoes in the cafeteria. And, more important, who would ask if you ever fulfilled your dream of becoming a magazine editor and what they would say if they found out you worked in marketing for a grocery store chain.
Yeah. Pure hell. Straight evil. Really, only a masochistic idiot would ever agree to attend one of these reunions.
There were a thousand ways she could be spending this lovely summer weekend, including staying with her family during this all-too-rare visit back to the Chicago area. Instead, she’d driven outside the city to this sprawling, dubiously themed hot spot called Celebrations, which catered to the let’s-relive-past-glory-days-and-pretend-we-aren’t-bitterly-crushed-by-the-reality-of-our-adult-lives crowd. In other words, a reunion resort.
Blech. Next thing you knew, they’d be opening a spot for post-hemorrhoidal-surgery patients to get together and shake their recently-operated-upon backsides.
She considered it, but knew she wouldn’t. Lauren couldn’t disappoint her oldest friend, Maggie, who had been there for her during some rough times. Now, when her friend was so unhappy and lonely after her recent divorce, how could Lauren let her down? She wasn’t a coward, or a quitter, so she just had to suck it up and get through this weekend no matter what.
She inched closer to the front of the line, staying quiet, hoping not to be seen by any of the former classmates ahead of her. Some de Sade descendant had decided nobody could get their room key until they checked in at the reunion registration desk. She had fully planned to go to her room and get cleaned up before risking running into anyone, but instead, she got stuck standing here with her suitcase and her messy hair, trying to remain invisible.
The odds weren’t good that she’d stay unnoticed. Every minute somebody recognized somebody else and the squealing commenced. Watching air kisses between girls who had ripped each other to gossipy shreds ten years ago, and man hugs between former jocks whose beer guts now got in the way of a good old-fashioned chest bump, she could only hope the first person to ID her wasn’t kissy or bumpy.
“Hello, Lauren.”
Oh, God, she would take kissy, bumpy, fake, shrill, sexist, knowing, biting, sarcastic or slobbering over the voice she’d just heard from directly behind her.
Seth’s voice.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said, still staring straight ahead, not turning her head so much as an inch. Surprisingly, she didn’t stammer, sounding in control. She couldn’t imagine how that was possible, considering her throat felt filled with a huge, anger-flavored lump.
“Was that why you decided to come?”
“Yes.” The one condition she’d imposed on Maggie was that Seth not be attending. As of yesterday, his name hadn’t been on the list of attendees. Obviously he’d decided at the last minute to crash. “Still have a problem with that RSVP thing, huh?”
“Honest as ever, huh?”
His voice was still smooth, easy, sexy and masculine. Just like it had been when he was joking, flirting, whispering sweet words in her ear…and breaking her heart.
Hopefully the rest of him had changed and he had become one of those overweight, prematurely balding, red-nosed-from-too-much-beer guys. Because if he got to keep the delicious voice, he ought to at least have been forced to give up his damn good looks. And maybe a few teeth. And all his hair. A limb might not be stretching it, either. Or his peni…