'Tis the Season to Be Tempted Read Free Page A

and sending his heart rate higher. Her scent was rich, like a decadent dessert, and her eyes simmered with a heat that was impossible to ignore. If she’d had full command of her faculties and wasn’t on the rebound—and had been anyone other than Dan Burling’s sister—he’d have been hard-pressed to refuse the offer in her gaze.
    But sex with Evie couldn’t get any more wrong. He owed his friend that much. “Even in high school you had an authoritative air.” Her words were more slurred than ever, but her tone betrayed both awe and sympathy, as if his personality was something to be both admired and pitied. “So tell me, Mr. Responsible…”
    Gaze now dreamy, she plastered her soft body against his. Wes’s heart paused along with her as he studied the liquid brown eyes and the beautiful, flushed face, waiting to hear what she’d say next. The words weren’t reassuring.
    “Is there was a wild man beneath that do-right exterior?”
    And suddenly, three hours with a tipsy Evie sounded like a lifetime in temptation hell.

Chapter Two
    Evie’s head swam, and the dark fog enveloping her senses made the mutter of distant voices difficult to interpret. She wasn’t sure which was worse: the pounding in her skull, or the queasy stomach that was currently rolling like a seasick passenger. Something lamb-soft lay beneath her cheek, and her fingers tingled, her left arm numb. When had the seats in first class gotten so hard ?
    Evie snuck a small peek, the bright light momentarily burning her retinas. She squeezed her lids shut, struggling to gather her wits. After a moment of adjustment, she opened both eyes and was surprised to find the world had tipped sideways. And why were there so many people on the plane?
    It was then she realized she was lying on a bench in a crowded airline terminal. She inhaled deeply and caught a whiff of cologne. Her head was resting on a winter coat.
    A man’s Armani winter coat.
    She bolted upright, and the world swayed for a moment.
    “I wouldn’t move too quickly if I were you,” a man said.
    Wise advice. Currently her brain felt as if it were sloshing around in her head, searching for stable ground. Careful to move slowly, she turned in her seat and spied Wes Campbell sitting just beyond her feet, reading a copy of the Wall Street Journal . Her stomach bottomed out.
    Wes Campbell…the disapproving bossy bane of her high school years.
    Wes Campbell…the man who’d been forced to sit next to her on the plane, though he clearly hadn’t wanted to.
    Wes Campbell…the man she might have made some really inappropriate comments to during takeoff.
    The queasy feeling in her stomach intensified, and she blinked, pushing a tangle of hair from her face. Wes was wearing dress pants and an expensive-looking blue button-down shirt, impeccably dressed, as was fitting the CEO of his company. The masculine planes of his face had matured since high school, but the dark hair—though a touch shorter—still had that slightly ruffled look that had always been boyishly cute. But boyish really wasn’t an accurate description anymore.
    He was all man. A heart-stoppingly gorgeous man.
    A memory resurfaced, being pressed against his hard body, her breast relishing the feel of the firm muscles of his arm. But despite her sloppy, vodka-and-tonic-induced posture, those intriguing hazel eyes had remained cool and unflustered. Which was especially cruel because they were heavily fringed with the most sinfully sensual lashes ever. Up until now, Evie had refused to admit to herself what a sexy male specimen Mr. Wes Campbell was, because the silent disapproval he’d radiated in the past had pissed her off to no end. She’d had enough of that at home, thank you very much. Not to mention he only dated the right kind of girl, and Evie Burling would certainly never qualify.
    And why hadn’t she noticed that the plane had landed? Even more urgent, what the hell had happened on that flight?
    She eyed Wes warily,