A Risky Affair Read Online Free

suddenly, she got her wish.
    At the photographer’s flirtatious coaxing, the man slowly turned and flashed a dazzling white grin that set off a flurry of flashbulbs—and jack-hammered Solange’s pulse. Before she could catch her breath, he noticed her standing in the doorway. Beneath the low brim of his fedora, the killer smile wavered and a pair of black, piercing eyes locked with hers.
    If Solange thought she’d had trouble looking away before, it was now an impossibility. The stranger’s heavy-lidded eyes probed hers with searing intensity, trapping the air in her lungs. He was as darkly handsome as his profile had suggested, with razor-edged cheekbones, a strong, masculine nose and those full, sensuous lips that ought to be registered somewhere as a lethal weapon.
    As Solange stared at him, his gaze slid down her body as if he could see through her creamy silk blouse, through her tan slacks, her mismatched lace underwear, right down to the quivering flesh beneath.
    To show him she could, she returned his bold appraisal, letting her eyes trace the wide expanse of his shoulders and the hard, sinewy muscles carved into his chest and abdomen. Without warning, she envisioned herself standing before him and dragging the suspenders off his shoulders, then lowering her head to flick her tongue over one flat dark nipple. She imagined taking it into her mouth and gently suckling, teasing and pleasuring him. The thought was enough to make her shiver.
    When one corner of the man’s mouth lifted, Solange was surprised to find her own lips curving in response.
    A movement to her right caught her eye, and she suddenly remembered there were two other occupants in the room, including the photographer, who had followed the direction of the man’s stare and was now looking at Solange with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Solange murmured, stepping into the room. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I must be at the wrong address. I’m looking for Roarke Investigations.”
    â€œYou’ve found it.” The sexy stranger came toward her, moving with the fluid ease and grace of a panther. As he drew nearer, Solange didn’t know whether to look at his face or his bare chest—both were equally riveting.
    â€œDane Roarke,” he introduced himself, wrapping his big, warm hand around hers. Tingles of awareness swept through her body. Their eyes held.
    Solange’s mind went completely blank.
    â€œYou must be from the temp agency,” he said. His deep, resonant voice brushed across her awakened nerve endings like a slow, hot caress. “We’ve been expecting you.”
    She swallowed hard, and shook her head. “No, actually, I’m not from the temp agency. I have an appointment with you this morning. My name’s Solange Washington.” She glanced around the room at the camera tripod, lighting equipment and the young woman who was now packing up her supplies with the help of her assistant. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
    â€œNot at all. In fact, you rescued me,” Dane Roarke confided with a chuckle, and her stomach bottomed out at the low, sexy rumble. He was wrong— she was the one in desperate need of rescuing.
    â€œHey, I heard that,” the photographer retorted as she approached them. Smiling easily, she passed a business card to Solange. “Hi, I’m April Kwan. I’m shooting a calendar featuring twelve of San Antonio’s hunkiest men in law enforcement. Dane graciously agreed to be Mr. January.”
    â€œI don’t know about the ‘gracious’ part,” Dane grumbled. “My cousins didn’t exactly leave me much of a choice, telling me at the last minute that their wives wouldn’t allow them to pose for the calendar and volunteering me instead.”
    April grinned. “Well, thanks for being such a good sport about it. And remember that all proceeds from the calendar