Lust for Life (Sexy in Spades Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  Lust for Life

  Sexy in Spades Series

  Maggie Dallen

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  Passion for Players

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  It was a little white lie that had Kat shuffling down the hallway of the lodge in desperate need of a drink.

  Well, a little white lie and boredom. But she blamed the boredom on the little white lie, along with the dull headache that had finally prompted her to get up out from under the cozy down comforter and head to the bar that adjoined the main hall, with its overstuffed, ridiculously comfy leather chairs and the large paintings of elk and antelope and other nature stuff. Nature wasn’t really her thing, which was why she’d told the little white lie, which was why she was now bored… and maybe a little hungover.

  It was all a vicious circle, really.

  She stopped short when she reached the dimly lit bar with its pretty backlit liquor bottles, its cozy booths, and the long oak bar itself. Behind which stood a man.

  A hot man.

  No, hot wasn’t accurate enough. There was something about him that made him seem… dashing. But not in a Hollywood playboy way. No. This guy was dashing in a rugged way.

  He was a dashingly rugged man, she silently amended.

  He had dark hair that was just a little overgrown, and the sort of creases and indentations that gave a man’s face character and took him from handsome to oh-my-God-he-should-be-modeling-underwear-on-a-Times-Square-billboard.

  Yeah, he had that kind of face, with the dimples and the cleft in his chin. Freakin’ sexy as hell and she had a feeling he knew it by the easy confidence in his every move. He managed to pull off a plaid flannel shirt and jeans like a perfectly tailored tux. The crinkles around his eyes when he smiled was really just overkill. Almost too much sexy when aimed in her direction.

  She knew this because he was smiling at her right now. Whether it was her lack of sleep or the late hour or the rapid onset hangover, she found herself blurting out the first words to pop into her head. “You’re not Steve.”

  That made his smile widen and she was fairly certain that smile deserved a cape and some sort of insignia. It made him look like a goddamn superhero. But he wasn’t Steve, the pleasant young man who’d been pouring her drinks all afternoon. Steve had been nice-looking in a very average Midwest sort of way.

  No one had ever accused Steve of being dashingly rugged, of that she was certain.

  The caped crusader pointed a finger in her direction. “And you’re not Rhonda.”

  Kat grinned as she continued into the bar and plopped down at one of the empty seats. It was almost impossible not to return that smile. “You are correct. I am not Rhonda.” She rested her elbows on the bar and made herself comfortable. “Who is Rhonda?”

  He tossed a bar rag over his shoulder and leaned over the bar too. “She’s the night manager who usually comes in here and locks up for the night.”

  “Ah,” she said. “Nope, sorry. Not Rhonda. I’m just a guest here.”

  “What can I get for you, not-Rhonda?”

  Oh hell. Had he meant for that to come out all low and sexy or was it just wishful thinking? She cast a quick glance in the mirror behind the bar. Probably wishful thinking. She’d been tossing and turning in bed for an hour before finally giving up the quest for sleep and heading out to the bar. Her blonde curls were a disheveled mess and she was wearing yoga pants and a T-shirt. She had a feeling even if she gussied herself up with makeup and the perfect blowout, she still wouldn’t be up to this guy’s standards. A guy like this probably dated the hottest of the hot, and while she would consider herself cute—pretty, even—no one ever insisted she should be modeling underwear on billboards.

  Somehow knowing that put her at ease. There was no one to impress here. Just a fun, flirty new bartender. She grinned at him—that she could do.

  “I came here to see if you guys had any aspirin back there, but I’m tempted to have a drink instead.” She gave him a questioning look. “Unless you’re closing up for the night?”

  His grin widened and unless she was losing her mind, she was fairly certain his gaze warmed as his eyes narrowed on her like she was prey. He held up a drink that he must have been hiding behind the bar. “I’m just getting started.”

  “Then I’ll have whatever you’re having.” She watched him grab a top shelf bourbon and an empty highball glass. Oh boy. This was not going to help that hangover when it eventually caught up with her.

  “Can’t sleep?” he asked her when he handed her the glass.

  She sighed. “I told a lie today.”

  Whoa. Where had that come from? She hadn’t exactly intended for the hottie bartender to become her father confessor but there it was. She’d started her story from the very beginning.

  His gaze took on a mischievous glint as he wagged his eyebrows. “Do tell.”

  She let out a sound that was half sigh, half laugh. What was she doing? Oh yeah, just spilling her secrets to a relative stranger. No big whoop. But the stranger in question had such kind brown eyes and he was looking at her like she was the singular most interesting person on the planet.

  Also, she needed a friend. Her own friends were safely tucked away in their cozy apartments back in New York, which was what she’d planned on doing this weekend as well. They certainly weren’t roughing it in the middle of Nowhere, Montana for some stupid office retreat.

  Not that this lodge was “roughing it” per se… but the hiking? The gun shooting? The freakin’ riding of horses?

  No, thank you. This was the kind of event she’d pay money not to attend.

  But her hottie bartender was waiting for her to continue so she found herself spilling her guts. “I told my boss that I sprained my ankle,” she said in a mock whisper.

  He nodded sagely. “Uh huh. And why did you do that?”

  She dropped the whisper as she shrugged and took a sip. Mmm, delicious. “So I wouldn’t have to ride a stupid freakin’ horse.”

  His brows shot up. She shouldn’t have been surprised by his surprise. Everyone here seemed to think horses were the best thing since sliced bread. Not that sliced bread was all that great, come to think of it. She took another sip and shook her head. The whole world was bananas.

  Or maybe that was the drink talking.

  The bartender leaned forward and her attention was drawn to the flex of his muscles beneath the flannel shirt. She could so get used to flannel if everyone who wore it sported burly, sculpted biceps.

  His voice held a note of laughter that was more intoxicating than the whiskey. Or maybe the whiskey was more intoxicating than she’d realized….

  “You told your boss you sprained your ankle to avoid riding a…” He used his fingers to do air quotes. “Stupid freakin’ horse.”

  She nodded.

  “And?” he prompted.

  Ah. So clearly he didn’t see how that related to her current ine
briated state and inability to sleep. She let out a small sigh. Silly man.

  Leaning forward so far her breasts were resting against the bar, she smiled broadly. “So, I told them that yesterday and got out of the stupid horse riding. Instead, I cooped up in my room and read my book.” Her grin grew smug. “Win-win.”

  Really, she had been a winner. With zero Internet access and limited cell reception, it was impossible to get any work done. For the first time in forever she’d found herself with a period of guilt-free time where she literally could not work. Laying around a hotel room all day had been sweet bliss.

  “Mmhmm.” He waved his hand in a gesture to continue.

  “So today I said that it still hurt and managed to get out of yet another day of ridiculous bonding activities with my coworkers.” She managed to refrain from making a gagging face at the mention of her coworkers, but just barely. It wasn’t that she hated all her coworkers at the cable news station, just the ones who were here on this executive retreat.

  Probably because they were executives. She was not an executive, at least not at the same high level as all these assholes, and they all knew it. She’d only been invited because she was the number one sales rep in the company.

  No big whoop.

  Honestly if she’d known this would be her big prize for being the best, she might have tried to tone it down a bit.

  No. Not really. She wasn’t capable of toning it down when it came to her job. She’d created a plan for herself a long time ago and had been steadily working her way up the corporate ladder ever since. The plan was all-encompassing—mainly focused on her career, but it took into account the fact that one day she might want to get married and have kids. So yeah, that was all part of the plan. But she still had years to go before she reached that point in the plan, and right now she was solely focused on developing her career.

  However, if she’d known that this would be her reward for salesperson of the year, she might have given herself an excuse beforehand so she wouldn’t have found herself spending her precious weekend hours hobnobbing with a bunch of D-bags with egos the size of that mountain outside.

  The bartender’s lips were twitching with contained laughter and the sight was mesmerizing. Hell, everything about those lips was hypnotic. “So how did that lead you to my bar tonight?”

  My bar. She liked that. His easy confidence made her think of Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin. He had that old-school kind of charm.

  When she was done grinning like an idiot she gave her head a little shake, took another sip, and continued with her story. “The problem was, I finished my book yesterday while playing hooky.”

  “Ah.” He nodded sagely as though he knew exactly where this was going.

  She explained anyway with a sigh that was worthy of an Academy Award for all the angst it signified. “So today, obviously, I was bored. Out of boredom I came out here to seek some company and I found Steve.”

  The hottie’s brows rose. “So that’s how you know Steve.”

  She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “Indeed.” Steve had been the instigator of her bad behavior, the accomplice to her lies, the enabler to her excessive drinking. She sighed again. She missed Steve.

  But this guy. This not-Steve. She rested her cheek on her fist to better gaze upon his beauty. She liked him too.

  He was smiling at her in a way that was far too knowing, but also strangely sweet. Like he knew her. Like they knew each other. Like they’d been great friends for ages and not just strangers who’d met in an empty bar this very night.

  He moved to refill his own glass. “And the headache?”

  She stared in confusion for a moment. Headache? What headache?

  Then she sat up a little too quickly. Oh yeah, that one. “The alcohol started to wear off from my day drinking so I figured I’d come out here and either see if Steve had some aspiring….”

  “Or just continue to drink?” he guessed.

  Her shoulders sagged. She’d been caught. But it wasn’t like she often drank the day away. She enjoyed a pint now again and a bottle of wine even more often, but she rarely did this.

  This was a temporary reprieve from the hell that was a work outing poorly disguised as some sort of vacation. Ugh. Whoever thought traveling and mingling with one’s bosses was a vacation had a sick sense of fun.

  The hottie surprised her by coming around to her side of the bar and perching on the stool beside her. “I have a secret for you.”

  Her breathing stopped. Everything appealing about this man was magnified a million times over at this close proximity. It was too much. Sexy overload. Luckily he didn’t seem to require a response.

  His smile grew as he lowered his voice. “This lodge has a library.”

  She blinked at him. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting from those tempting lips. A proposition, maybe?

  Definitely not tourist info.

  Still, once the words sank in, excitement had her bouncing out of her chair. “Where? And why didn’t anyone tell me?” she demanded.

  He shrugged and that made her scowl. Dammit, Steve. He’d really let her down.

  Tugging on the bartender’s sleeve, she pulled him up and out of his chair. “Show me.”

  He obliged. As she followed him through the dark, narrow halls of the lodge, she found herself grumbling. “I can’t believe I’m wasting precious weekend time here, of all places.”

  “You don’t like the lodge?” He turned back so suddenly she walked into him and promptly bounced off his hard chest. She found herself staring at the solid rock of a chest in fascination. Holy muscles, Batman.

  Her mouth watered and she caught herself just in time before she licked her lips like some sort of perverted horn-dog.

  But seriously, this guy was hot. And sexy. And the way he looked at her, like she was adorably wacky but also sensationally hot—well, that look was a turn-on in and of itself. When she managed to tear her eyes away from the muscles that filled out his shirt, she found that he was eyeing her in turn, giving her the same, lascivious once over. She might have been offended that he was ogling her like a piece of meat if she hadn’t been caught doing the very same thing.

  Besides, he clearly liked what he saw, mussed bedhead and all. And she liked that he liked it.

  She gave him a slow, seductive smile as she leaned in closer to his heat and his amazing, earthy, soapy scent.

  Oh yes, this was definitely a case of mutual admiration.

  The hottie reached behind him and opened a door. He walked in backward, his gaze never leaving hers.

  Oh hell, he was smoldering at her. She hadn’t even known that was a thing men did outside of the movies, but this guy did it well. His dark eyes held a promise. All she had to do was say the word and he would make her night.

  Why not?

  The voice was unbidden, it seemed to come out of nowhere and she froze in place, blinking like an idiot. Why not? Because she didn’t do that sort of thing. She was here for work, for Christ’s sake, not on some epic girls’ weekend looking to get laid.

  Still, it has been a long time, the devilish, possibly tipsy little voice kindly reminded her.

  Six months, to be precise. That was when she’d ended her last relationship and she’d been suffering a dry spell ever since. She resisted the urge to lift her hands and touch that amazing chest of his. Maybe wrap her arms around his neck and feel how those pecs would feel against her breasts. Maybe—

  “You never answered my question.”

  Dragging her gaze up to meet his eyes, she saw that he was laughing down at her. His gaze was knowing and he wore a smug grin that was infinitely sexy and more than a little exasperating.

  This guy knew he was irresistible. That should have been a turn off but it wasn’t. He had a striking confidence about him, with just a hint of arrogance. Not so much that he came across as smarmy and gross, but enough to give him an air of total competence. Like he knew he could blow her mind and would be happy to comply.

>   His lips pulled up on one side so he was giving her a lopsided smile. “What don’t you like about the lodge?”

  Oh hell. He wanted to talk. She bit back a sigh and made to move past him.

  Then she stopped. “Holy Mary, mother of God.” The words slipped out as a curse and a prayer. This was heaven, surely. Every wall was covered in books right up to the vaulted ceiling. A fire crackled in the fireplace which was surrounded by a cozy couch and two leather chairs that looked like they were made for snuggling up with a mug of hot cocoa and a good book.

  She crossed over to sink down onto the couch where she could tilt her head back and see the full extent of the library’s offerings. “I think I’m in love,” she sighed.

  He gave a low chuckle as he sank into the couch beside her, his head resting beside hers. So close that if she turned her head—

  “So, is it all lodges you despise or just this one?” he asked, his voice teasing.

  Dammit, this man seriously wanted to have a conversation and all she wanted to do was give in to her ridiculous desires for an anonymous one night stand.

  She turned to face him and saw his gaze fixed on her, his attention and interest so firmly focused on her it took her breath away for a moment. What had he asked?

  Oh right, the lodge. “Stupid lodge,” she muttered.

  He let out a little snort of amusement. “Not a fan of the rustic vibe, I take it?”

  She studied him with narrowed eyes. Why wasn’t he letting this go? Then she rolled her eyes. What did it matter? She didn’t care what this guy thought of her. It wasn’t like she was here to impress him with her love of the wilderness.

  “No,” she said with a loud exhale. “I don’t love rustic. And I’m not a fan of nature.”

  The couch vibrated slightly and she turned to see that he was laughing at her quietly.

  Oh good. She lived to amuse.

  With a shrug, she explained. “I’m a city girl, born and raised. I’ve just never really understood the appeal of nature. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a whole lot of insects, rodents, and bad weather.”