Master’s degree in vocal performance and embarked upon a career on the stage.
A love of romance then drew her to wedding planning. Ultimately she
succumbed to her lifelong love of books and now writes contemporary romance.
She is the award-winning author of the Aisle Bound series. Christi is President of the Maryland
Romance Writers and lives in Maryland with her husband.
and tickled his cheek. “Told ya.”
reaction in his body. Blood pounded south in great, galloping leaps and bounds
to pool in his crotch. Jack hadn’t experienced an insta-hard-on like that in
years. He quickly shifted the black script binder across his lap.
so.” Then her lips pursed. “Okay, you’ve piqued my curiosity. Exactly how have
into a beautiful woman.”
color of ripe strawberries. It made Jack wonder if her nipples were the same
color. Or would turn that color after he used his lips on them. “Um, thank you.
And let me just say that adding a few pounds of pure muscle didn’t hurt you any,
little harder, see what developed. “Here I thought you were going to comment on
my righteously masculine goatee.”
her hand rose, scraped along the end-of-day stubble on his cheeks to trace the
outline of the goatee. “It, ah, makes you look devilish.”
his as her hands dropped to her lap. “You want to dance?”
much more difficult. Jack sighed. “Metaphorically.” When she still looked
bewildered, he continued. “Forget it. Do you want to have dinner with me?”
at her hands twisting together. “That depends.”
Jack didn’t want her take on the crisis in Syria. Why would a simple dinner invite
come with conditions? “On what?”
as if to check they were still alone. Or as alone as you could get in a three hundred-seat
theatre full of people milling about from the lobby to the dressing rooms. “Are
you just lonely, Jack? Because of Ty?”
myself,” he growled.
is, do you want to have dinner with just anyone? Or do you want to have dinner
with me?” She fluttered her hands up to cover her heart.
why she had the crazy female insecurity, but at least he knew what she was
driving at. “I want to have dinner with you. Only you. Not because we used to
be good friends. Not even because we’ve slid pretty well back into those roles.
And not just dinner.” Jack grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“You’re a beautiful woman who heats me up every time you slide those cool lake eyes
over me. With enough talent and know-how and passion for my business to make
for interesting conversation. So what I want from you, Becca, is a date.”
blush again. Or look away. Or for that matter, look flustered at all. Instead, she
mimicked his pose, putting her hand to his mouth. Rubbed her soft thumb in a
slow glide across his lower lip. Her eyes darkened from the clear blue of Lake
Harriet in the summer to the darkness of a winter’s night.
course I’ll go out with you.”
size, women never failed to confound him. Jack didn’t know what he’d said to
peel off her timidity. Didn’t care, either. Just looked forward to an evening
filled with more surprises from the woman he was discovering he liked even more
than the girl he used to adore.