Excerpt:
Michael Williams was a soft city boy, and she was willing to bet he not only
indulged in regular manicures but perhaps even enjoyed the occasional facial. She
wondered whether he had rolled up his sleeves for fear of getting his expensive,
white, designer dress shirt dirty with barbecue sauce. He probably wore designer
underwear as well.
Boxers or briefs? Her gaze traveled south. Briefs, probably. Expensive white
designer briefs. Tighty whities.
He was definitely not her type.
She smirked as her gaze traveled back up to his eyes. They were staring back
into hers.
Caught red-handed! Her smirk faded and her cheeks reddened. She grabbed
at a strand of hair to twirl in her fingers and pretended to be interested in a framed
painting of a pig in an apron that was hung behind his left shoulder.
Something primal lurked below the surface of his gaze, and it drew her back
in. It was as if she stared into the eyes of a caged animal set to pounce. Not one
that had been born in a zoo, but one that had been captured in the wild and placed
in captivity. Perhaps he hadn’t always been a city boy?
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