Friday, August 17, 2007

Excerpt of Satisfaction Guaranteed by Isabelle Drake

Jack Harley was not a deceptive man. As an attorney, his professional code of ethics required him to be completely honest and up until that moment it never crossed his mind to be anything but up-front. But this cool brunette who’d walked into his life and recited something like one of those made up stories in “Penthouse Forum”, she’d changed everything.

He’d have thought the whole thing was a set-up, a personalized welcome wagon joke delivered courtesy of his cousin, Denton but the determined set of this woman’s kissable mouth assured him she was serious. Unbelievably serious.

Admittedly, her proposal came across a bit stiff and lacking in detail but his imagination had already filled in the blanks. Not even Theresa Hill, the high maintenance girlfriend he’d left behind in Dallas, ever made him this shameless. Self-control? Good judgment? His two best personality traits had gone AWOL.

He looked down, almost hoping he’d find them within easy reach, sitting on his desk. No luck. Truth be told, there probably wasn’t anything that would douse the liquid spell this dark-haired ice princess had poured over him.

He swallowed hard and forced his face into what might pass for objective professionalism. She didn’t miss a single movement. If she applied that thorough approach to her love-making, she’d eat a man alive. But what a way to go.

Maybe he should’ve been insulted for being examined like a piece of meat. Maybe he should at least try to remember all the things his mother had taught him about being truthful and tell the woman that she’d made a simple mistake. The ever-popular escort service had moved to a bigger office down the hall. Remembering that he was an attorney would’ve been a good first step on the path to socially acceptable behavior.

But he’d suddenly stopped caring what was socially acceptable. He wanted to keep this woman right where she was, doing exactly what she was doing. Making him feel more alive than he had in months.

Years.

Hell, maybe ever.

“The arrangements, Mr. Harley?”

To read the full excerpt visit my website http://www.isabelledrake.com/.

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