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About Tawny Weber:
New York Times and USA TODAY Bestselling author of more than forty
books, Tawny Weber loves writing about sexy heroes, most notably her popular
Navy SEALs series. Her sassy, emotional
romances are filled with men dedicated to being the best—and women determined
to have the best. Tawny credits her ex-military alpha husband
for inspiration in her writing, and in her life. The recipient of numerous writing accolades,
including Romantic Times Reviewers Choice and in addition to the NY Times and
USA Today bestseller lists, Tawny has also hit the number one spot on Amazon
and Barnes & Noble.
A homeschooling mom, Tawny enjoys scrapbooking, gardening and spending
time with her family and dogs in her Northern California home.
Excerpt:
Vivian
wiggled into the most romantic corner booth she could wheedle and ordered a
sparkling water. No point enjoying wine until she knew she’d enjoy the
evening, too.
She pulled out her cellphone. No cancellation message.
That was a good sign, wasn’t it?
Half the time, Vivian felt like her dreams were a tease. All too often
she got within kissing distance of her goal, and poof, there it went. No
big payoff, no awesome climax, nothing.
Because, why? Because she always blew it.
She shouldn’t have told him her name.
She should have teased instead, said she’d tell him tonight.
Maybe she shouldn’t have let him in on the what she made at The Sweet Spot,
either. Sure, a lot of guys saw that as a turn on, but there were just as
many who subscribed to the prude theory. Like her brother.
And he was Mike’s friend.
Then again, so was Lenny.
Before she’d finished her confused sigh, Zane walked in. And all of her doubts
took a backseat to the sight of how gorgeous the man was. Vivian sat up a
little straighter. Shoulders back, chin high and chest probably jiggling
because her heart was beating so fast, she smiled and sent him a little
wave.
“Vivian,” he greeted as he joined her.
“Zane.”
“So you’re Mike’s little sister, hmm?”
“Ahh, so the dare worked.” Vivian laughed. “How many times did you
consider bailing?”
“Bailing? I’ll have you know I’m trained to confront conflicts of all
shape and size. I fearlessly face down explosives, disarm bombs and
disable volatile chemicals. Sometimes all three before breakfast.”
“Tell me more.” Delighted, Vivian put on a wide eyed look of fascination,
even adding a little eyelash flutter for good measure.
“I train with the best. I’m one of the elite. There’s no challenge
devised that I won’t face.” He leaned in, his smile almost hypnotic as he
teased. “Baby, I never bail.”
“I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that,” Vivian declared as the waiter
brought Zane a beer and refilled her water.
“But, here’s the thing—” he started to say as soon as the waiter left.
“No,” she moaned. “Not the thing.”
There was only one thing of Zane’s that she wanted to hear about.
“Here’s the thing,” Zane continued, laughing. “Some guys have rules about
buds dating their sisters. Sisters, cousins, moms. Guys get weird
thinking the women in their lives have sex. They get even weirder when
they know the guy putting the moves on that sex.”
Lips pursed, Vivian propped her elbow on the table, rested her chin on her fist
and fluttered her lashes.
“Aren’t you taking a leap there, assuming we’d definitely be having sex?”
Zane blinked, looked horrified for one second, then shook his head.
“I’m speaking generally, not specifically.” Then he narrowed his
eyes. “Are you saying that you see this thing between us as platonic?”
“Of course not. I plan on having a great deal of sex with you,” she
purred. “A mind-blowing amount, as a matter of fact.”
“Mind blowing, hmm?”
“Indeed.” She reached out with her free hand to trail her fingers over
the back of his knee. Up his thigh, then back down again. Oh, baby,
even through denim, his muscles were rigidly impressive.
He clamped his hand down, locking hers down on his thigh.
“Only one thing.”
“Only one?”
“Only one.” Zane entwined his fingers through hers. “Your
brother.”
“Oh,
please,” she objected. “Like you’re afraid of my brother? The man
wears argyle socks and loafers, for crying out loud.”
Zane’s snicker escaped before he could stop it, then he shook his head.
“Mike’s footwear isn’t the issue. The fact that you’re his little sister is the
issue.”
Vivian debated for a handful of approaches.
She could
keep blathering about her brother. That’d put an end to either of their
interest in anything after a while. Mike was like a sedative.
She could
offer him an easy out, a simple excuse to end the evening so he wasn’t in
danger of violating his bro code. Given there was a lifelong friendship
involved, that’d be the nicest thing to do.
She could seduce Zane into forgetting about the bro code, which would ensure
her one night of dreams-come-true-ecstasy.
Or she could do the unthinkable.
Vivian took a deep breath, her eyes locked on Zane’s face. He had such a
sweet smile and sexy eyes. And there were dreams at stake here,
dammit.
So she reached into her bag to do the unthinkable.
“What are you doing?”
She finished dialing her brother’s number.
“Getting you a bro code clearance.”
“Mike,” she said the minute he picked up. “Let’s play what if. What if I
have the hots for one of your friends? What if this friend wants to make
a move but he’s worried about upsetting you, so I want to make the move
instead? What would your feelings be on that?”
“He’s afraid of me?” Mike laughed. “Wish him luck.”
“Okey dokey,” she agreed, hanging up and giving Zane her most seductive
smile.
Zane gave her a long look, the kind that made her want to squirm in her seat
and breathe a little heavier.
Then he smiled.
“You know he thinks you’re referring to Lenny, don’t you?”
Vivian ran her tongue over her lower lip and leaned into the table. Just enough
to highlight her cleavage. She waited until Zane’s gaze returned to her eyes
before giving a delicate little shrug.
“Can I help it if my brother is an idiot?”
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