Free Waking Up by Arianna Hart Page A

of air ruffled her hair as he sighed. “When you were a teenager, did you fool around in your boyfriend’s car?”
    “Of course not!” Her mother would have killed her. Ladies didn’t “fool around” at all, but most especially not in a car. Not that Jane wouldn’t have been willing to try it at least once if she’d had the opportunity. Unfortunately, her dates in high school were limited to chaperoned events orchestrated by her mother.
    “I didn’t think so.”
    “What does my youthful experience,” or lack thereof, “have to do with being squashed against the seat?”
    “Lady, you don’t want to go there. Trust me.”
    “Right. Like I’d trust you about anything.”
    “Whaddya mean by that crack?”
    “You have to admit, you’re not the most upstanding of citizens.”
    “What’re you talking about? I was a freaking FBI agent!”
    “You run away from the police, you carry a gun, and you have a penchant for, ah, playing the field.” Her face flamed in embarrassment, but she didn’t back down. If he was going to mock her for her lack of experience, she could comment on his plethora of it.
    “My what?”
    “The revolving door on your bedroom.”
    “You’re crazy. I’m not a player.”
    “Oh pul-lease. If you had any more women parading through your condo you’d have to install one of those ‘take a number’ machines like at the deli. You are most definitely a player.” Whatever that was.
    “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve had relationships with all the women who’ve ‘paraded’ through my room. Jesus, it’s not even like there’s been that many. I’m not home enough to be a player.”
    “It’s none of my business how you choose to live your life.” Oh Lord, could they please just drop this subject? She should have kept her mouth shut. This was only slightly humiliating.
    “You’re right. It’s not.” He tapped his hand on his thigh.
    Jane couldn’t help but stare at his long fingers just inches from her nose. He had a strong hand, very masculine with a smattering of dark hair sprinkled across the knuckles. It would look perfectly natural holding a beer can or a hammer. She couldn’t picture Lex drinking from a wine glass or using a delicate fish fork with those broad, callused hands.
    An image of his fingers cupping her breasts, his darkness against her lightness, flashed through her brain, singeing every synapses along the way. He wouldn’t be a gentle lover. No, he’d be hard and demanding and probably very thorough.
    Her breath hitched as her heart rate shot through the roof. Suddenly she felt far too warm. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck and between her breasts.
    “I am not a player.”
    “Whatever you say.”
    “Don’t try that reverse psychology crap on me. Just because I don’t live like a monk doesn’t mean I use women. They know the deal going in. I’m not around enough for a permanent relationship. That’s not what they’re looking for either. Just a mutually satisfying experience between consenting adults.”
    “Of course.” Very satisfying, from what she could tell.
    “Why am I explaining myself to you?”
    “I have no idea.”
    Lex swore softly and Jane hid a smile. The conversation was completely inappropriate, but he was no longer picking on her for not making out in a car as a teen. It was nice to actually win a battle with him for once.

Waking Up
     
     
     
    Arianna Hart
     
     
     
     
    It’s not nice to mess with a goddess. She’ll change your life—whether you like it or not.
     
    When Morgan Callahan goes to New Orleans to celebrate her divorce, she expects to get drunk and let her hair down a little. Waking up naked in a strange hotel room complete with a strange man singing in the shower—and the new tattoo on her wrist—definitely wasn’t part of the plan.
    Memories of a night of incendiary sex? Oh yeah, those are burned into her brain. But how the tattoo got there is a mystery. Deciding discretion is the