Their Summer Heat Read Free Page A

Preston. Do you know the answer?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Counselor, I don’t need to remind you that Miss Heat is not on trial for where she works.”
    “Forgive me. I’ll try not to forget that. DG Enterprises is a sex-for-sale company.”
    A couple of gasps resonated behind her.
    “What does sex-for-sale mean?” Summer asked. One thing her daddy always said was to answer a question with a question until you figured out what to say, and never, ever answer and give your opponent information when they don’t have it. Thanks, Daddy.
    The shark pursed his lips, so he didn’t know. Like her momma said—money can’t buy everything. “Well?” she asked.
    “An escort service, perhaps?”
    The Shark was fishing. Summer crossed her arms over her chest and said nothing, nada, zilch.
    “Straight up prostitution?”
    “You don’t know, and Your Honor, I don’t think it’s any of his business. I pay taxes on whatever it is.”
    “I agree with Miss Heat. Move on.”
    He studied his screen, probably trying to intimidate it to cough up the answer. After a few seconds passed, he rubbed his chin, a clear sign he was hedging for time instead of dropping the subject and moving on as the judge had instructed.
    “Ah. My sources tell me it’s a 900 service.”
    She couldn’t deny his statement because lying wasn’t something she was good at, but not denying it was an admission. Summer remained silent and would only answer if the judge ordered her to.
    “So, Miss Heat. What’s your call name, or do you use your real name? Summer Heat has a nice seductive ring.”
    The damage was done; no tucking the truth back in the shadows. “Two things.” She stood and faced the judge. “Your Honor, my jobs are irrelevant to this case.” She turned her head to stare at the New York Shark. “And do you want to know my call name to see if you’ve talked to me before, see if you might be one of those who’ve waited in line on the phone until it’s your turn?”
    He worked his lower jaw, no doubt grinding his teeth. She was stupid to open her mouth and imply such a thing. Of course, he didn’t need phone sex, probably had all sorts of women calling him, just to hear his deep voice say hello. Hell, she could almost get off on his voice alone.
    “Let’s move on,” instructed the judge.
    “Okay.” Mr. Preston resumed his seat, which struck her as totally out of character for someone who made their living intimidating people with is eyes, his voice, his height. He pulled some papers out of his case and flipped through them. Summer remained standing, hoping to give the impression she wasn’t intimidated by the fact that the whole world now knew she got paid for talking dirty to men and women so they could get their rocks off.
    She was a psych major, had left her small town in North Carolina to come to New York to attend college. The 900 job paid damn good money, and she had discovered she could study and whisper sensual suggestions on the phone at the same time. It was an association game, a person to facts. She didn’t claim to understand it, but earning while learning was a sweet, sweet deal.
    Summer forced her head up a notch and murmured, “Bring it on.”
     

Chapter Two
     
    Max flipped through the credit card charges and wrestled to get his damn erection under control. Reporters from Channel Four lurked in the back and him sporting a hard on for the nightly news wasn’t on his agenda.
    His opponent, the lovely Miss Summer Heat, was every man’s wet dream. Her black dress, which hugged her toned body like a second skin, was the type of garment a man enjoyed peeling off a woman. He definitely wanted to unwrap her, slowly, and discover her skin inch by delicate inch.
    And her southern drawl was so damn cute. He’d hated making her blush when he’d called her on it, but rattling her was his goal. Miss Summer Heat didn’t rattle easily.
    Even though her neckline was modest, he knew her breasts were round, high and most