A sweet, fun, and sexy stand-alone romance from New York Times bestselling author Aleatha Romig. One night to remember Is that too much to desire? One night for fun, passion, and a chance to remember what it’s like to be a woman. I’m not looking for love. There’s a man in my life who loves me with all his heart. He has beautiful blue eyes, is three feet tall, and calls me mommy. He’s my whole world and I’m his. Fate stole his daddy way too soon. What would happen if I allowed fate another chance, just for one night? One night to help a friend Why did I agree to this? Blind dates are disasters. If I weren't helping the friend of a friend, I wouldn't go. I’m not looking for romance, love, or even a one-night stand. After all, the man my friend knew is gone. I’m no longer the hockey star known for his "pep" on the ice and in the sack. I have a new life, and a new career—a new passion. I’m not looking for more. When the blind date is a bust, could fate change everything? One night doesn’t end with a kiss—it begins with one.
Be ready to laugh, cry, and fall head over heels as you meet Leatha, the lighter side of Aleatha in this new sweet and sexy stand-alone romance, ONE NIGHT.
When we finally pull apart, before I can speak or even contemplate what happened, Malcolm's blue eyes shine down on me, taking me in and reading me.
His voice rumbles through the background commotion of the bar. “You taste like sweet wine and smell like perfume and desire.”
Warmth fills my cheeks. “You taste like good beer.”
“Good? You're a beer connoisseur?”
I shrug. “Mostly, I know cheap beer.”
He lifts my chin, bringing his indigo eyes into focus. The room disappears, making those blue orbs all I can see.
“I'm a connoisseur,” he says as his thumb gently rubs over my bruised lips. “And you, beautiful Mandy, if you were a beer, would never be a cheap one. No, you're a rich custom craft brew. I see it in your eyes, feel it in your touch, and smell it in the air. Kissing a stranger isn't something you do, is it?”
I try to move my eyes away, but Malcolm's grip of my chin is unrelenting. Meeting his gaze, I reply, “No. I won't even bore you with how long it's been since I've kissed a real man.”
His eyes sparkle. “You kiss fake men?”
“Boys. Well, only one actually.”
“You kiss boys...” And then, as if the reality of his statement hits home, he asks, “You have a son?”
My heart flutters, its speed increasing by the second. “I do, but I don't want to talk about him. Not because he isn't important for he is—he's my world—but because tonight isn't about him. It's about me.” I can't gauge Malcolm's reaction. I can only guess that he's assuming that I'm some needy woman trying to get a man to take on the responsibility of a kid who isn't his.
I reach out and splay my fingers over his chest. His heart is beating to match mine. “I don't want to talk about him,” I continue, “because he'll never know about you—I'll never tell him and never introduce you. Don't worry. I'm not after a man to rescue me. I'm perfectly content with my life as a mother. I just wanted to remember what it felt like to be a woman...for just one night.”
“I'm not anti-children—”
I shake my head. “Stop. That doesn't matter.” It’s then that I notice the filled glasses on the table and laugh. “When did the waitress come?”
Malcolm bows his head until our noses touch. He inhales deeply, his eyes closing as his hand falls to my lap. “I'd say just after you.”
More heat floods my cheeks. “I-I didn't...”
“Then we need to do something about that.” He looks again at the full glasses. “I think the drinks came while my tongue was busy getting to know your sweet mouth.” His hand splays over my thigh.
My breathing hitches. “Malcolm?”
“You said you want one night. One night doesn't end with a kiss. It begins with one.”