Tempting Heat (Tempt Me Book 1)

by Sara Whitney

  She wasn’t, though.

  “I was fine. I was handling it.”

  He cracked open one eye while she loomed over him. But despite her putting on her toughest face, he just shrugged and reached for his headphones, deliberately placing first one and then the other in his ears.

  “Well?” she demanded. Deescalation was apparently not an option for her tonight. That was often the case when she was reminded of her helplessness as a child.

  He pulled one of the earbuds from his ear with a sharp tug and looked at her with a raised brow, clearly indicating, Well what? She continued to glare, and he heaved a sigh. “I said I was sorry.”

  “For?”

  He gave her an opaque look. “For whatever’s got you so angry,” he finally said.

  She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, the compulsion to fight still pounding through her blood. “Typical man. Giving a terrible apology that puts the burden on the injured party. Your gender needs to do better.”

  He continued gazing at her with a neutral expression on his bold features. Since a better apology didn’t seem to be forthcoming, she turned and huffed away, leaving him alone with his precious headphones. The buzzing in her brain started to fade, and as usually happened when her “fight!” instinct drained way, regret started to trickle in. Had she been too harsh with the huge, hot guy? He’d presumably thought she was in trouble and stepped in to help, and she’d yelled at him for it. It wasn’t his fault that the abrupt shift from rescuer to rescue-ee had ruffled her feathers.

  Dammit. She was going to have to apologize.

  She peeked at him under the pretense of checking her phone. His eyes were peacefully closed, as if their interaction never happened. Still, guilt swelled in her chest until she called “I’m sorry” over the seat in front of her.

  His lips quirked, even though his eyes stayed closed and his headphones in. “Why? Aren’t you the injured party?”

  Yeah, she deserved that. She stood again and reluctantly walked toward him. “Okay, so I’m not injured, per se. But I—”

  “—could’ve handled it. I heard,” he said, eyes open now. “I believe you.”

  He tugged his earphones out again as his bright blue gaze traveled from the top of her head down to her shoes. She puffed out her chest, knowing that her Brooks Brothers business suit didn’t exactly project strength and toughness in a fight.

  “You’re goddamn right,” she insisted. “I have skills. I know self-defense.”

  Another twitch of his lips. “The next time some guy insults you, I’ll ignore it.”

  “Thank you.” Okay, this was getting ridiculous. She shook her head and started to pivot when the rumble of his voice stopped her.

  “I’m curious.”

  She turned back, and he cocked his head.

  “Your self-defense style. Is it mostly shin-kicking and yelling ‘fuck you’ from a distance?”

  Her mouth dropped open, and heat coursed through her as his gaze moved across her face, both from her anger at his suggestion and her awareness of how well he wore that smirk on his lips. She was so caught off-guard by her reaction that for once she couldn’t find the words for a comeback.

  He shrugged and crammed those damn headphones back into his ears. “It’d scare me off, anyway.” Then he closed his eyes and had the audacity to ignore her for the rest of the trip.

  Would you believe that things go even worse the second time Josie encounters the infuriating stranger from the train? Find out how in Tempting Taste, book 2 in the Tempt Me series, available February 18, 2020. Preorder now!

  Acknowledgments

  You hold in your hands a debut novel that was only possible because of the love and encouragement from the people who make my life as a writer not just survivable but enjoyable.

  Author T.M. Cromer, you’re my first call, my gut check, and my sounding board. I don’t know how you had the patience for all my muppet-flailing questions. I’m grateful for your advice, your friendship, and your crepes.

  Author Sophie Brooks, you’re my emotions whisperer. Your suggestions big and small brought spark and authenticity to these pages, and I’m pretty sure our conversations are the reason Slack was invented.

  Author Genevieve Jack, you’re a formidable combination of plotting genius and business savvy all wrapped up in a terrific person, and I’m lucky I landed in your life.

  Author Bria Quinlan, you remind me to breathe and give A+ advice and TV recommendations. Thanks for the mentorship and the shared Stiles-love.

  Editor Anne Victory, the only way I sleep at night is knowing that you touched every page of this book. Thanks for your exacting nature and your good humor while you wield your metaphorical pen.

  Laura and Kate and Blair and Megan and Tanya, you checked in on Finn and Tom’s story at various stages, and your encouragement kept me moving forward. Thanks for being my cheerleaders and my friends. (And in Laura’s case, my sister, not that she had any say in that.)

  Mom, you’re the best. Truly. I will fight anybody who tries to tell me their mom is superior.

  Jason, I love you ten million and one cups of coffee. Thanks for finally giving in and growing a beard for me, silver wolf.

  And finally, thank YOU, reader, for taking a chance on a new author. Your time and your funds are precious, and I’m grateful you trusted me with them.

  About the Author

  Sara Whitney writes sassy, sexy contemporary romance novels packed with wit, charm, and crackling dialogue. A 2019 Romance Writers of America® Golden Heart® award finalist, Sara worked as a newspaper reporter and film critic before she earned her Ph.D. and landed in academia. She’s a great baker, a so-so karaoke singer, and an expert TV opinion-haver.

  Sara and her divorce-attorney husband (yep, she sees the irony of their dueling professions) live in Illinois in a house full of books, cats, and pinball machines. To stay updated, subscribe to her newsletter: www.sarawhitney.com/subscribe/