Cassie Wilson has traveled to Brazil for her brother’s wedding; yet she’s the one with cold feet. She’s all set to begin seminary, but she’s sick and tired of being treated like a saint, especially by the best man. What she really needs is one sexy night with him to ease her jitters and give her a taste of normal life.
Adam Forrester crashed and burned at his dream job, screwing up all his hopes for a better life. Now he’s moved home to start over, but first he must confront the irresistible Cass, apologize for whatever happened on that drunken night he can’t remember, and make damn sure it doesn’t happen again. Only she has other plans.
He has typecast her as the good girl in his heart. Can she force him to see her as a real woman, desires and all?
ONE SINFUL NIGHT IN SAO PAULO
Well, that had gone better than Adam expected. She hadn’t hit him, which he probably deserved. Though, he wasn’t completely sure what he had coming to him.
Justin tucked his chin in astonishment. “What the hell? Cassie, get back here and say hello.”
Adam couldn’t tell him that she had every right to be mad, or he’d go from best man to worst enemy in three seconds flat. “It’s cool. I’m sure she’s just tired.”
The back door slammed.
He took a deep breath. Best to clear the air and move on. “I’ll go check on her.” He strode away before Justin could argue.
Outside, she sat cross-legged on a bench against the garden wall, looking up. Above them, the clouds reflected back the city’s lights so brightly a night driver wouldn’t need headlights.
She didn’t spare him a glance. “You seem to have missed the hint, Adam. I don’t want to talk to you.”
“We have to walk out of the church together arm in arm on Saturday, so this is going to be a shitty couple of days if we can’t be civil, especially for Justin.”
She looked at her fingernails. “I’m always civil. I just want a little space.”
“Look, Cass, I know this is awkward. I really am sorry for what happened.”
Whatever that was, exactly, that resulted in your panties beside my pillow.
Her gray eyes settled on him, like Justin’s but prettier—almond shaped with thick lashes, so unsettlingly clear. The eyes he thought of when someone used that cliché ‘so-and-so has an old soul.’ And he only had a clue what the saying meant because of Cass.
“What are you sorry for?”
This he could answer truthfully, despite all he failed to remember. “That was no way to treat a girl like you.”
“A girl like me.” She smiled down at her knees.
He didn’t know what to make of her words or the strange curve of her lips, so he continued to study her.
She wore a faded pair of jeans, thready hems hanging over her sneakers. She never dressed so casually. Even in high school, she’d always worn skirts, old-fashioned ones that looked cute on her but would have looked geeky on anyone else. She had a classy kind of polish he’d always liked, different from the perfect shine on the women he’d worked with, and slept with, in New York.
Cassie glanced up at the house and licked her lips before rubbing them together.
No. She was nothing like those women. She was sweet, pretty, and so fucking kissable. And he hoped that was all he’d done that night, because a girl like her deserved better than a guy like him.