My Temptation (Kingston Lane Book 1)

Juliet

“Will you relax?” Chloe says.

Ugh. I look around the huge ballroom. “How did I let you talk me into coming here? I feel so out of place.”

“I bribed you, that’s how. Stop whining. You look hot.”

“True, and you are paying up. Dinner anywhere I want next week, remember?”

“McDonald’s sounds good.”

“Tight-ass.” Chloe is my best friend, whose magical talent is talking me into doing things that I don’t want to do.

“Remind me why we are here again?” I ask her.

“Because I want to have sexual intercourse with Dr. Grayson,” she whispers as she rearranges her boobs in her dress. “You know this already.”

I giggle. “I thought you just wanted to fuck him?”

“That too.”

Chloe is in lust with a doctor who works at our hospital. The problem is, so is most of the female population, and he doesn’t even know who we are.

“Who is that slapper he is talking to, anyway?”

I glance over to the beautiful redhead talking to Dr. Grayson. “I don’t know, but she’s hot.”

“I could take her.”

“Totally.”

The night is a glamorous event, auctions and celebrity trivia, and while I would love to tell you that my mind is on charity, that would be an appalling lie. This is so far from my thing, but I do admit that something has caught my attention: the stranger across the ballroom.

I noticed him the moment I walked in. Wearing a black dinner suit, he’s laughing and talking with a group of people. Dark-brown wavy hair, square jaw, and the biggest dimples when he smiles.

“I’ll get us some more drinks. Same again?” Chloe asks.

“Yes, please.” I watch her walk off to the bar, and then my eyes drift back over to him. He’s very tall, maybe six foot four. Broad shoulders and built, but there’s something about the way he’s talking to his group of friends. He’s all animated and laughing, and they’re hanging on his every word as he commands their attention.

I look around the beautifully decorated ballroom. I’ve never been to anything like this before. A fundraiser for the children’s medical-research wing at the hospital I work at. Nurses don’t usually get invites to things like this, but I’ve become friends with one of the doctors, and he invited Chloe and me to come along. I glance back over to the gorgeous stranger, and for the first time, we lock eyes. We stare at each other for a beat longer than usual, and then, as if perplexed, he tilts his chin to the sky as he takes a sip of his amber drink. Even the way he holds the glass is hot. His legs are wide and his back is straight, dominance oozing from his every pore. I snap my eyes away, embarrassed that I was caught perving. His wife is probably loitering around here somewhere.

I pretend to look around and then glance back to see Dr. Grayson walk over to him. They begin to chat like old friends, laughing and animated.

I bite my bottom lip to hide my smile. They know each other.

It could be double date heaven.

Chloe arrives back with our drinks. “I just saw Helen at the bar, remember her?”

“Not really,” I reply without even trying.

“Yes, remember, she worked in our wing a few years ago.” She continues on this long-winded story. But I hardly hear her. My attention is lost. I can feel his gaze on my skin, sense that he’s looking at me.

Over the next two hours, more of the same.

Every time I casually glance over, he’s staring at me. And the thing is, when I catch him, he doesn’t look away. He holds my gaze in a silent dare, as if willing me to do something . . . just what that is I’m not too sure.

Can a look give you goose bumps? Because I swear his is.

I can’t even say anything to Chloe because the reason we are here, the dick Dr. Grayson, hasn’t even looked her way.

“Is he going to talk to every fucking woman here tonight?” Chloe whispers angrily with her eyes locked on him. “I’m over here. You haven’t talked to me yet, you giant dickhead.”

“Right?” We watch Dr. Grayson for a moment. “What’s his first name again?” I ask.

“Blake.”

“Blake Grayson.” I twist my lips. “Hot name.”

“The name isn’t half of it.” Chloe eyes him. “He’d be great in bed.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Look at him, how could he not? He could just stand at the end of the bed naked, and I would orgasm.”

I giggle. “True.”

Dr. Grayson looks more like a model than a doctor, with sandy-brown hair and a square jaw, fit and buff.

“And he’s a pediatrician.” She sighs dreamily.

“That’s the killer, I have to agree.”

I glance back over to the handsome stranger to find him staring at me again. My stomach flutters. I can feel the air between us swirling, sexual tension so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

This man is a walking temptation.

“Lord have fucking mercy,” Chloe whispers.

“What?”

“Have you seen Dr. Grayson’s friend?”

Seen him? I can’t take my eyes off him.

“Who?” I act dumb.

“Oh fuck,” Chloe whispers, wide eyed as she looks over my shoulder. “He’s coming over.”

“Who?”

“The god.”

“What god?” My eyes widen.

“Act cool.”

“What?”

“Ladies,” a deep and husky voice purrs from behind me.

Oh crap.

I turn around to come face to face with piercing dark eyes.

Yep . . . he’s even better close up. “Hi,” I squeak.

What the hell is that mouse voice?

“I mean, hi,” I say lower.

Chloe smirks. “Hello.”

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he says as he holds out his hand. “I’m Henley James.”

Henley James.

“Chloe Willcox.” Chloe smiles as she shakes his hand.

He turns his attention to me, and I stare at him, tongue tied.

“And you are . . .” He raises his eyebrow.

“Juliet.” I force a shy smile. He takes my hand and shakes it. His thumb dusts over the back of my hand as he maintains eye contact.

Oh . . .

“Juliet who?” He gives me a slow sexy smile, knowing full well the effect he is having on my poor deprived hormones.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Drinkwater.”

“And do you?” he replies, his eyes still locked on mine.

“Do I . . .” I frown, confused.

“Drink water?”

“Yes, I do.” I fake a laugh that resembles a six-year-old’s.

Help.

Okay . . . what the hell? Please go away. You are too good looking for my brain to work.

“Would you like to go out with me, Juliet?” he asks.

My eyes flick to Chloe and then back to him. Did I hear that correctly? Huh?

“Well?” he prompts me.

“Um . . .” I take a sip of my champagne. “Like . . . on a date.”

His mischievous eyes light up. “Yes, like a date.”

“Oh, um.” Answer him, fool. “Okay.”

He gives me that slow sexy smile again. “Shall we say . . . Friday night?”

A goofy grin begins to come over my face, and I inwardly stop myself.

Act cool.

“I’ll have to check my schedule,” I reply.

He chuckles as if knowing my game. “Sure.” He pulls out a business card and passes it over. “Call me.” Then without warning he leans over and kisses my cheek; his lips linger for a beat on my skin, and the smell of his aftershave wafts around me. Then he turns and walks casually across the room back to his friends.

Chloe and I stare after him, shocked.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God,” Chloe whispers. “Did that just happen?”

I glance down at the card he gave me.

H E N L E Y. J A M E S

ENGINEERING

044 289 0777

“He’s an engineer,” I whisper.

“Who gives a fuck. I would sleep with him if he was homeless.”

I giggle and turn my back to him. Can’t seem too interested.

Chloe clinks her glass with mine and winks. “Well done.”

It’s Thursday night. I’m on my couch, and I need to get my act together. I’ve been nervous about this all week. I chew on my thumbnail as I stare at the business card.

“Just call him,” Chloe says. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“He could be a dick, that’s what.”

“Listen to me,” she says, deadpan. “He’s fucking gorgeous, and gorgeous men are an endangered species, practically extinct. So when you find one, you need to grab him with both hands. Not to mention that he asked you on a date and gave you his card. He wants you to call him. You’re not just some random chick off the street.”

“You’re right.”

“Here’s the plan: you call him, you two fall madly in love, and then you set your friend up with his friend, Dr. Grayson.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s so simple when you put it like that.”

She passes me my phone. “Just fucking do it.”

“I’m way overthinking this, aren’t I?”

“You are.”

I dial his number and quickly hang up.

Shit.

“Okay, what do I say again?”

“Oh my god, you’re killing me,” she gasps.

For the tenth time, I run through the conversation in my head: casual . . . concise, and make the date. Don’t be nervous. Who cares if it doesn’t work out—he’s probably a dick anyway.