Book 2 in the Hollywood Heat series
By Leslie A. Kelly
Release Date: July 1, 2018
No celebrity secret stays buried for long in USA Today bestselling author Leslie A. Kelly's sexy and suspenseful Hollywood Heat series.
A cold case is suddenly too hot to handle
Police officer Rowan Winchester wants nothing to do with his family's A-list Hollywood legacy. Working with the LAPD is his way of atoning for the Winchesters' dark and secretive past. And, right now, the last thing Rowan needs is true-crime novelist Evie Fleming nosing around the most notorious deaths in Los Angeles - including the ones that haunt his own family.
To make things worse, he's torn between wanting the wickedly smart writer out of his city... and just plain wanting her.
While researching her latest book, Evie suspects that a dangerous new killer is prowling the City of Angels. Now she just has to convince the devastatingly handsome cop that she's right. Soon Evie and Rowan are working together to try to find the killer, even as their attraction ignites.
But when the killer hones in on Evie, she and Rowan realize they'll have to solve this case fast if they want to stay alive.
Here in the bright interior light, he got a better look at her perfectly-shaped face, her full lips…and the bruise on her jaw that was darkening by the second.
He put his fingertips on the bottom of her chin lifted her face to examine it more closely. He held her gently, not wanting to add any more fingerprint-shaped marks to her beautiful skin, like the ones that married her neck and throat.
“I should’ve broken his hands,” he muttered.
She stared up at him, those big eyes bluer than the Pacific on a calm day, and licked her lips. A hint of color flushed her cheeks, and her mouth opened a tiny bit as her breaths deepened. They stood close together, her soft body brushing against his in a few places. Not intimate places…but the touch was intimate just the same.
The peach-pie fragrance of her shampoo filled his head every time he inhaled. Color rose in her cheeks, and her throat trembled as she swallowed hard. He suspected she was just as affected by the sudden heat rising between them.
The urge to catch that soft mouth and kiss her until all her dark memories of tonight were obliviated nearly overpowered him.
So much for the hero.
Rowan dropped his hand, gritting his teeth to keep himself from cursing for being weak enough to even consider kissing her.
Evie Fleming had been attacked a few short hours ago. She was a victim in need of safety and security. Not a come-on from a guy she barely even knew.
He stepped back and swiped a hand through his hair, then jerked a thumb toward a closed door. “The master bedroom’s right there. There’s a big sunken tub with jets. Feel free to take advantage of it.”
“Isn’t that your room?”
“No, I’ve been staying in the other guest room. Speaking of which, I oughta grab my stuff.”
To leave. To go home. To remove himself from temptation.
“You’re sure Detective?”
Sure? Hell yes he was sure.
Hell no he wasn’t sure.
His brain and his body just couldn’t seem to come together to make that call.
One thing was certain, though, if he was this wound-up about a stranger—a woman he was supposed to just be protecting—he needed to get out more. His recent assignment had played hell with his sex life, and it had obviously been far too long since he’d been laid.
Yeah, that was it. Being near any attractive woman would cause the same churning low in his gut and the tension shooting in waves throughout his body.
You are so full of shit.
His inner voice was both amused and disgusted. Maybe if he kept telling himself he was just an average guy who hadn’t had sex in a few months—pretending it didn’t have anything to do with her big blue eyes, that ashy-blond hair, the angel’s face and the curvy body—he’d start to believe it.
“You really can stay here, you know.” She gazed up at him, visibly trusting, still seeing a nice cop, and not recognizing the horny wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Decent guys do not take advantage of crime victims.
Right. Time to go.
“Thanks but now I’m looking forward to a night in my own bed.”
Don’t think about beds, Jesus, man.
“I’ll pick you up in the morning and take you back to your car.”
“I hate to put you to more trouble. I’ve been nothing but trouble to you.”
He shook his head. “I’m glad I was there, Evie.”
“So am I,” she whispered, stepping closer to him. “Very glad.”
Her tongue swept out to moisten her lips, and just like that, with that miniscule movement, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to sleep again until he’d tasted that mouth. It made no sense, it wasn’t wise or particularly noble, but that mouth had been driving him nuts for hours, and he just had to kiss her.
So he did.
He didn’t think about it, didn’t really plan it, didn’t worry about what would come afterward. He simply touched her chin again, lifting her face, and then brushed his lips against hers. Soft, slow, and easy. A kiss that wasn’t really going anywhere—couldn’t go anywhere, not if he ever wanted to think of himself as a decent guy again. No, it had no particular destination, but was a hell of a nice way to get there.
About the Author
A four time finalist for the prestigious Rita Award, Leslie has also been honored with the Romantic Times Career Achievement Award.
The author is giving away 5 ebooks of Wanting You and a grand prize: $25 Amazon GC!