Catch Me If You Can (Romantic suspense, New Orleans Trilogy book 1) Review
Book 1 in the New Orleans trilogy, a romantic suspense novel by Nina Bruhns
Caught Between Duty and Desire…
Simon “Beau” Beaulieux oozed sensuality—from his bedroom eyes to his broad shoulders to his lilting Louisiana drawl. Kit Colfax knew the parish chief of police always got what he wanted, but to protect her future she couldn’t let him have his way…or her.
Kit wanted to put Beau’s thieving cousin behind bars. Beau needed to stop her. Painful experience had taught Kit how powerful men operated…and manipulated. Well, not this lady. Not this time. Sure, Beau made her feel as she never had before. Made her want to trust him as he so unwaveringly trusted his cousin’s innocence. But was that a lover talking, or a deceiver bent on saving his family…whoever paid the price?
EXCERPT:
From Chapter One
In a supple movement, Beau pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. Kit’s breath caught. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, lean hips, powerful thighs, all encased in perfectly tailored black evening clothes. His jet black hair fell disarmingly over one eye. She nearly sighed out loud. The women of the world would be losing a prime piece of real estate when he got sent down.
With deliberate ease he sauntered around, coming to a halt right beside her. She grasped the edge of the table. He was way too close. So close, the heat and the scent of him surrounded her, smoky from the cheroot, a hint of spice and sandalwood cologne, and oh, so male.
What was with her? She didn’t do men any more. They were demanding, selfish, shallow creatures, and hell on a woman’s career. With an unsteady hand she reached up and pushed her blonde hair behind her ear, so he could examine her earring. They were emerald-cut studs, matching the sapphires in the necklace.
“Exquisite,” he murmured. His fingers softly collided with hers, then moved on to brush the outer shell of her ear. His warm breath fanned her cheek, causing stray hairs to tickle her neck. A finger traced around her earlobe.
“They’re worth–”
“I’m not interested in the earrings.”
Her eyes flew open and she turned her head, alarmed. His face was so close their noses practically touched. The angled slash of his cheekbones and square strength of his jaw should have made his expression forbidding, or at least severe. Instead it looked sensual and provocative.
“But I’ve got nothing else to offer.”
As she watched, his whiskey colored eyes darkened to a deep mahogany. “Darlin’, you’ve got plenty to offer.”
Oh, lord. This was not in the plan, either. No way was this in the plan.
“What–” Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and tried again. “What is it you want?”
She knew what she wanted. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to kiss her so badly her knees were shaking and she could hardly stand in her high heels.
She swallowed heavily.
For a moment he stared at her mouth, then his gaze dropped to her throat, her collarbone, lower, and lower, until it settled on her breasts. His eyes lifted to hers, filled with lambent invitation. There was little doubt what he wanted, either.
“Your dress.”