Crude Oil

Copyright © Desiree Holt, 2008
All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Total-e-bound.

Excerpt from: Crude Oil

Dana Devlin leaned back in her beach chair and resumed devising painful ways to kill her sister Jodi. Her excitement at the gift of a paid weekend at lush, exotic Enchantor Key had turned to shock when she’d arrived to find herself in the middle of a singles weekend. Signs everywhere read ‘Meet Your Mate’.

Yeah, right. She’d already met hers and one was enough, thank you very much.

And this place! She was shocked to realise what kind of resort it really was. At least for the weekend. At first she thought it was great how every guest had his or her own tiny bungalow away from the main building. But then she’d explored her “home for the weekend” and discovered it was stocked with all manner of sex toys, creams and fragrant oils. And God only knew what else. She’d stopped looking after finding the first stash.

Did Jodi really think this would be a good idea for her?

Not that Dana didn’t know what some of the stuff was. Or hadn’t used one or two to give herself the satisfaction Greg the Dipshit had never given her. But use them with someone else?

Jodi, Jodi, Jodi. Just how far did you think you could push me?

A splash of something wet on her thigh jerked her from her reverie and she got her second shock. Standing next to her, a tall, frosted drink in each hand, was her divorce attorney, Max Hollister. What in the hell was a stud like him doing at a weekend like this? And at a place like this?

A sudden image flashed through her mind of Max Hollister using some of the toys from her room on her and she felt a hot flush creep over her body.

Whoa, Dana. Rein it in.

She lifted her sunglasses and stared at him. “Max?”

He grinned, and laugh lines crinkled around his chiselled mouth and at the corners of his gorgeous sapphire blue eyes.

“None other.”

Dana couldn’t stop staring. His magnificent body was sun-bronzed and his thick, black hair tousled by the soft breeze from the Gulf. Strong legs extended from tiny plaid boxer-style swim trunks. Oh. My. God.

No, no, no. Dana closed her eyes. This wasn’t just some stud. This was Max, who’d held her hand all through her nasty divorce from the king of the assholes. He was her friend, her confidante. Besides, she’d sworn off men for the rest of her life. Greg had thoroughly inoculated her against the desire for sex ever again.