Sex & the Single Girl
Page 1
“That part you mentioned about me being ready to pounce?”
Aidan’s eyes wandered over Brianne with slow deliberation. “You couldn’t be more right. I’m guessing you’ve got about three seconds before I zero in on my next target.”
She couldn’t have moved to save her life.
Not with his gaze cruising over her with every bit of sensual heat she’d ever longed for ten years ago. More. She would have never guessed back then that a man’s stare could ignite a small inferno.
For that matter, she hadn’t known until just this red-hot, blistering second. If she’d had any doubt about who Aidan’s next target might be, it was obliterated the second he moved toward her. Invaded her personal space. Crowded her.
This was a bad, bad idea. Her hungry lips and aching body didn’t seem to realize it, however.
“Does this remind you of anything, Bri?” His voice was close. Too close. He bracketed her body with his arms, steadying himself on the wall behind her.
Did it? If she wasn’t careful, she’d be so lost….
Dear Reader,
Ever since I lived in Miami Beach, I’ve never missed an opportunity to rave about the colorful setting and the vibrant mood of the place. But the challenge remained—how could I possibly convey the nuances of the infectious energy of the nightlife, the lure of Latin music, the draw of Caribbean cuisine and the steady backdrop of rolling waves behind it all?
Lucky me, I’ve got six books in which to try! Welcome to SINGLE IN SOUTH BEACH, my first miniseries for Harlequin. This month we begin with one of the new owners of the exotic Club Paradise and over the course of the series we’ll meet more of the driven women who put their creative muscle behind this hedonistic playground. Next month, be sure to check out Summer’s story in Blaze #108, Girl’s Guide to Hunting & Kissing.
For now, sit back and enjoy Brianne Wolcott and Aidan Maddock’s story. Since these two hit the town, nightlife on the strip has definitely heated up! Visit me at www.JoanneRock.com to learn more about my future releases or to let me know what you think of my books.
Happy reading,
Joanne Rock
Books by Joanne Rock
HARLEQUIN BLAZE
26—SILK, LACE & VIDEOTAPE
48—IN HOT PURSUIT
54—WILD AND WILLING
87—WILD AND WICKED
HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION
869—LEARNING CURVES
897—TALL, DARK AND DARING
919—REVEALED
SEX & THE SINGLE GIRL
Joanne Rock
For fabulous Lisa, Jen and Arete—
my highly educated, superintelligent girlfriends whose advice
I crave most for shoes, shopping and great food.
Who says we can’t still be divas? I adore you.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Prologue
“HOLD ON TO YOUR PANTIES, girlfriends. It’s raining men just outside our front door.” Brianne Wolcott eyed the monitor from security camera number three, the one with the best view of the crowd gathered at Club Paradise’s Ocean Drive entrance—and all the gorgeous guys waiting in line. The mob of people would be checking out the newly revamped disco in another hour. Nervous energy hummed through her. As a new part-owner and head of security for the club, Brianne needed to make sure tonight’s reopening ran smoothly. “Looks like we’re in for a busy night.”
“My panties couldn’t be more firmly in place if they were Super Glued to my hips.” Lainie Reynolds, CEO of the reorganized South Beach resort and nightclub, slid into the oversize leather chair behind Brianne’s desk in the slick, modern office housing the club’s high-tech equipment. “Divorce will do that to you.”
The four founding members of the soon-to-be hottest spot on Miami’s trendy South Beach had called a meeting an hour before they opened their doors for business. Although Club Paradise had been a wildly successful resort for couples over the last five years, the three former partners behind that business—known locally as the Rat Pack—had absconded with the profits. Brianne’s stepfather had been one of those partners, Lainie’s husband another.
With Lainie’s business savvy and legal guidance, the women left behind in the wake of the embezzlement scheme had pulled together to restructure the company. Tonight they were reopening just the club. In a few weeks, they’d have the rest of the resort refurbished and ready for guests.
The couples theme was out, however. Given that three of the four women who now owned the business had been deceived by husbands or boyfriends in the Rat Pack, the new owners had no desire to market themselves for the sticky-sweet couples’ demographic. Club Paradise would slowly be overhauled into a singles’ haven—a lush, hedonistic oasis for the uninhibited.
And although Brianne hadn’t been dumped by a husband or boyfriend in the Rat Pack—merely inconvenienced by her highly immoral stepfather—she’d still bought into the singles theme. She had a hideous track record in the dating world, and even worse experience as part of a couple. She couldn’t wait to enjoy the lavish, sensual luxuries the club would provide.
Summer Farnsworth, another founding partner and the ambiance coordinator for the club, approached the television screen teeming with men. She blew a kinky blond curl out of her eyes and traced a finger over a muscle-bound motorcycle rider who had pulled in front of the line outside. “I don’t know, Lainie. Even Super Glue might not be strong enough to resist the temptations we are going to be subjecting ourselves to in this line of work. Have you seen these guys?”
Brianne suspected Summer would be the quickest to find romance—or at least some sensual diversion— during the course of their upcoming endeavor. Sort of a flower child throwback, Summer prided herself on lack of inhibitions and what she called “living in the moment.” While Brianne had never considered herself uptight, next to earthy Summer and her seductive wardrobe of silk skirts and halter tops, Brianne sometimes feared her tailored clothes and dark colors made her look downright repressed.
“Been there, done that,” Lainie shot back, slowly spinning in the oversize black leather chair behind Brianne’s seldom-used desk, her sleek platinum hair not daring to move out of place. “And I lost half my life savings in the process. You can decorate the club with as many nude statues and erotic paintings of flowers as you want, Summer, a new relationship doesn’t even begin to tempt me. What about you, Brianne? Are you looking for a Mr. Right Now tonight?”
Not yet. She was more interested in keeping an eye out for a Mr. Wrong from her ancient past. Rumor had it FBI agent Aidan Maddock was investigating the scandal that had rocked the club last year, and he was the last man Brianne needed to see. Sure, Aidan might have held more than a little appeal for her at one time, but the man held a grudge against her stepfather and had proved himself impervious to Brianne’s every seductive machination ten years ago. He’d be better off remaining in her past.
But Brianne wasn’t entirely comfortable with spilling her intimate thoughts to women she’d only known for all of a month. “I’ll be too busy doing my job.” Keeping an eye out for the agent she suspected would be watching Club Paradise very carefully. “Speaking of which, I’ve got some security concerns I’d like to share as soon as Giselle arrives—”
“Sorry I’m late.” On cue, the club’s head chef, Gis
elle Cesare, burst through the office door. A petite, dark-haired Italian-American, Giselle was a nonstop bundle of energy. She balanced a tray of exotic drinks topped with fortune cookies in one hand. “I thought the start of our new venture deserved a toast.” She lowered the tray of drinks on to the desk with a flourish. “Introducing the Good Fortune Potion, newest specialty of the house.”
While Summer squealed, Brianne hurried to stuff a glass in Lainie’s hand. Lainie was having a difficult time getting over the fact that her husband had not only embezzled half her money, he’d also indulged in a quick affair with Giselle before he’d skipped town. What Lainie didn’t seem to understand was that the bastard had hurt Giselle nearly as much in the process, providing her with more guilt than a guileless twenty-five-year-old deserved. Giselle had had no idea that the man had been married.
But even Lainie seemed to catch the momentary spirit of camaraderie and she sipped at her drink, too.
“This is awesome.” Brianne raised her glass to the chef and temporary bartender. “But before we toast the grand opening, I wanted to suggest we open our doors a little earlier than we anticipated to try and minimize the crowds out front. There are already journalists swarming and I don’t want our guests getting hassled about the club’s old scandals.” Nor did she want to miss her stepfather’s nemesis, agent Aidan Maddock, if he tried to get in the disco tonight.
Lainie and Summer were both shaking their heads before she finished. Lainie set her fortune cookie on a cocktail napkin atop Brianne’s shiny lacquered desk.
“We want the press, Bri, even if it’s negative,” she argued. “And we definitely don’t want to lose the long line out front as that’s one of the main elements of cachet for a hot spot.”
“Not to mention the moon is void of course until almost eleven tonight,” Summer added, clutching one of her crystal necklaces as if for good luck. “We agreed to open at eleven because by then the moon will be entering Aries and the stars will be in a favorable position for the new venture.”
Brianne focused very hard on her fortune cookie to prevent herself from rolling her eyes. “But it’s difficult for the surveillance cameras to detect images with the bright lights of the television crew glaring into their lenses. I’d hate to have a security breach our first night because we failed to take a few simple precautions.”
Brianne recognized the importance of security measures. Her last relationship before she’d left New York had been with a guy who couldn’t seem to take no for an answer. If not for her techno-gizmos and stepped-up security measures, she might have actually been concerned for her personal safety. Did it hurt to be a little careful?
“I could send some of my erotic pastries out to the TV group,” Giselle offered, tapping one short, efficient fingernail on her glass. “That might distract them a little longer until we’re ready to open the doors.”
“Send some of the Kama Sutra cookies,” Summer urged, “those pretzel positions ought to keep the crew intrigued for at least another hour.”
Lainie shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to waste her most delicate work on the media.” She sniffed in distaste at the word. But then, all of the members of Club Paradise’s new ownership had been scrutinized in the news over the past few weeks. “I think most of the reporters are male, so I bet a box of the doughnuts with cherry nipples ought to be distraction enough. Good thinking.”
Brianne exchanged surprised glances with Summer. The compliment was the most civil exchange Giselle and Lainie had managed all month.
“Is that okay with you, Bri?” Lainie asked.
“It ought to work. Heaven knows I wouldn’t want to disrupt our moon timing.”
“We all want tonight to be a success, don’t we?” Summer asked, unoffended. “A little help from a favorable celestial alignment couldn’t hurt.”
“Neither could a toast,” Brianne agreed, lifting her Good Fortune Potion high in the air. “To the success of Club Paradise.”
“To a feast for the senses,” added Giselle, clinking her glass in time with her words.
Lainie rose to her feet. “To a fat bottom line and sweet, financial revenge.”
Summer sidled over to the group. “And for crying out loud, girlfriends, let’s have a little fun while we’re at it. May we all enjoy the single life at its absolute, delicious best.”
Their collective clank of glasses sent Good Fortune Potion spilling down their arms and to the floor as they christened their partnership and began a friendship.
1
THE PROMISED FORECAST of raining men had turned into an outright downpour. Too bad Brianne couldn’t seem to enjoy all that testosterone right now.
She slipped away from the sizzling salsa beat and raucous voices in the disco’s Moulin Rouge Lounge to seek the privacy of her office. Not only because she’d never been that much of a party girl, but also because she took tonight’s job seriously.
After the Rat Pack embezzlement and the difficulties the new ownership had faced getting Club Paradise back on track, Brianne wasn’t about to risk any security breaches to land them in tomorrow’s newspapers. From the safety of her high-tech office haven, Brianne could survey lovers’ quarrels on the dance floor or cat-fights near the ladies room—anything with the potential to attach more scandal to the club’s name.
She’d be damn sure nothing happened on her watch. Not with her entire life savings wrapped up in the club now.
Her finger settled over the mouse on her computer to click through the security monitors in the unused portion of the hotel. There shouldn’t be any activity in the resort rooms tonight, just empty scaffolding and paint cans that were part of Summer’s massive decorating overhaul.
She clicked on autopilot, zipping through the views of the former Sweethearts Suite, the Lovebirds Nest and the excessively gilded Honeymoon Heaven. She was about to flip screens back to the lounge when a movement in Honeymoon Heaven caught her eye.
Instantly alert, Brianne pressed a few more buttons to tell the camera to zoom in on a shadowy figure crouched beside the bed. Nerves tense, she waited as the lens refocused and lightened the picture at her command.
Lo and behold, the dark shadow slowly rose from the floor and turned into a huge bear of a man. Standing at a good six-foot-four, he dwarfed the delicate white, heart-shaped bed. His dark hair reached his collar, a bit overgrown and as tousled as if he’d just crawled out of bed with an overenthusiastic woman. A short Fu Manchu beard-mustache combo gave him the trendy-scruffy look of South Beach.
He wore a Harley T-shirt with jeans that had seen better days. Reflective sunglasses perched in his hair even though it was well past midnight.
And for the second time in her life, Brianne thought he was the most unusual-looking FBI agent she’d ever seen.
After ten years, Aidan Maddock hadn’t changed a bit.
Her heart jumped a bit out of rhythm as she stared at the object of her eighteen-year-old fantasies. She’d half expected to see him tonight, given his unrelenting pursuit of her ex-stepfather’s criminal activities. Did Aidan really think she’d be hiding her crooked old man under the bed in the Honeymoon Heaven?
She needed to get him out of the club. And she would go confront him. Soon.
For now, she couldn’t resist another minute or two to just look her fill. She’d wondered during her years working in the film industry in New York if she’d imagined how intriguing-looking Aidan had been.
She hadn’t.
Perhaps it was merely the producer-director in her that so enjoyed watching the way his big body moved, the way he dominated his environment at every turn. But her accelerated breathing led her to think her reaction had very little to do with her work as a director.
And everything to do with being a woman.
He looked utterly out of place in the white room overflowing with lace and gold accents. He picked up a miniature music box in the shape of an old-fashioned woman’s boot and poked at it with one large finger.
The absurdity of
the gesture reminded her that she’d always thought they’d be a great match because Aidan would overshadow a more delicate woman. At five-foot-eleven, Brianne had never been a fragile flower.
Silly, romantic thinking of an eighteen-year-old.
Dismissing the notion, Brianne flicked off the camera zoom and prepared to confront Aidan in person.
Until one of Club Paradise’s new employees sidled across Brianne’s monitor screen and insinuated herself in front of Aidan. Brianne recognized the cigarette girl from the Moulin Rouge Lounge. A definite fragile flower, the young woman had wide blue eyes and sort of fluffy blond hair. She looked innocent as a damn baby chick, but she was probably close to the age Brianne had been when she’d fallen hard for Aidan.
Only Aidan looked at this newcomer with considerable more interest than he’d ever shown Brianne.
Not that she cared. It was a purely detached observation. Something Brianne had gotten very good at during her years spent in New York. After her overly dramatic childhood with a temperamental mother and a charming, white-collar criminal stepfather, Brianne had become a quick study in detachment.
Scooping up her handheld computer, she switched the picture from the Honeymoon Heaven camera on to the miniature device so she could keep tabs on the action while she walked through the club to the resort’s tacky white room. Aidan hadn’t needed to pick any locks to get into the suite, but he was definitely treading where he shouldn’t have been by ignoring the signs saying Employees Only.
For that matter, the cigarette girl was way out of line, too. Brianne would tell her that as soon as the elevator reached the top floor.
As soon as she shoved open the door and—