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Thirty-year-old Bebe Banerjee is desperate to get rid of two things: her fiancĂ© and her virginity. Escaping her arranged marriage might be impossible, but she refuses to give her firsts to an entitled jerk who lives on another continent. Instead, she devises a plan that guarantees another man will get her momentous firsts. But she never imagined that man would be Cal O’Brien, the gorgeous heir to the Riley O’Brien & Co. denim empire…
Although Cal has always been fascinated by Bebe’s brilliant mind and beautiful eyes, he’s never pursued her. She can’t stand the sight of him, and every time they’re in the same room, they end up trading insults. Yet when he finds out about Bebe’s bold plan, he makes his move, unaware of her upcoming nuptials. He promises to make her firsts unforgettable, but he doesn’t know how hard it will be to forget her when their arrangement ends.
Chaste. Untouched. Maiden.
Pure. Innocent. The words that
described a virgin might sound pretty, but the truth was downright ugly, at
least in Bebe Banerjee’s opinion. She was convinced her virginity was the
reason her heart raced, her breath seized, and her palms sweated whenever she
was near Cal O’Brien.
Bebe surreptitiously
studied Cal, trying to ignore the wave of lust that surged over her. If she’d
had some experience between the sheets, she was sure she’d be able to handle the
way he made her feel.
If she had gotten naked
with a few guys, maybe she wouldn’t obsess about his glacier-blue eyes and his
thick, dark hair. Maybe she wouldn’t notice the way his jeans clung to his
tight behind and long legs. Maybe she wouldn’t fantasize about his lips, his
smile, his big hands . . .
Bebe desperately wished
she could just avoid him, but his little sister, Teagan, was her best friend.
If she wanted to spend time with Teagan, she had to put up with Cal. She said
no to a lot of Teagan’s invitations to hang out because of him, and she had to
be very careful not to offend her best friend.
That was why the object of
her X-rated fantasies stood next to her in a club-level suite at PacBell Park.
The San Francisco Giants were in the playoffs, battling against the Atlanta
Braves to win the National League pennant, and Teagan had invited her to attend
the game in the Riley O’Brien & Co. suite.
Founded by Teagan’s
great-great-grandfather, Riley O’Brien & Co. was the nation’s oldest
designer and manufacturer of blue jeans. Americans had worn Rileys for nearly
two centuries. In fact, Bebe was wearing a pair right now.
Teagan and her brothers
were involved in the day-to-day operations of Riley O’Brien & Co. She
managed the company’s law department, while her oldest brother, Quinn, served
as president and CEO, and Cal handled global marketing and communications. Even
Quinn’s wife, Amelia, was involved in the company, heading up the women’s
division.
Beside her, Cal shifted
slightly and took a pull on his Shiner Bock. He was close enough to touch, and
she clenched her hands into fists just in case her fingers suddenly decided to
act out her secret fantasies. He didn’t even look her way, and he probably
wouldn’t unless he felt the need to toss an insult at her.
“How was Antigua?” Cal
asked, directing the question to his sister and her new husband, Nick Priest.
“It was the most amazing
place I’ve ever been,” Teagan said, her blue eyes shining and her glossy lips
turned up in a smile.
Teagan and Nick had just returned
from their three-week honeymoon to the Caribbean island. Both of them were
glowing from their tans and their newlywed status.
“We were lucky we had our
own private beach because Nick is apparently an exhibitionist,” Teagan added
with a lustful gleam in her eyes.
Nick was a former
professional football player, and he had been voted as one of the “Sexiest Men
Alive” by People magazine. With his blond hair and bright green
eyes, he was gorgeous, no doubt about it. But in Bebe’s opinion, he wasn’t
nearly as gorgeous as Cal.
No one is as gorgeous as Cal.
Nick leaned down and
whispered something into Teagan’s ear, something that was obviously naughty
because her face turned the color of cherries. When he straightened to his full
six-five and saw her red cheeks, he chuckled.
“You’re so bad,” Teagan
muttered, lightly slapping Nick’s chest. In response, he grabbed her hand,
hauled her up against him, and kissed her . . . with tongue.
Cal made a gagging noise.
“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, “do you have to do that in front of me?”
Teagan pulled away from
Nick. “Please,” she shot back, her
voice full of disgust. “Do know how many times I had to listen to my high
school friends talk about you and your big—”
Much to Bebe’s
disappointment, Cal covered his sister’s mouth with his hand and cut off the
rest of Teagan’s sentence. She tried to pull his fingers away, and finally she
got free by elbowing him in the stomach.
Laughing, Cal stumbled
sideways into Bebe, almost knocking her over. He grabbed her forearm to steady
her, his hand hot against her skin, and she gasped. Even the slightest touch
from him made her pulse pound, and she tugged her arm to get away from him.
Instead of releasing her,
his fingers tightened. She looked up . . . way up. He was almost
as tall as Nick, and he loomed over her by more than a foot. He was a little
leaner than Teagan’s husband but still solid muscle. His faded Giants T-shirt
showed off his broad shoulders, impressive biceps, and ropy forearms. He’d
paired the shirt with ancient Rileys that fit him like a glove and well-worn
boots.
“Sorry about that,
Cookie,” Cal apologized offhandedly.
“I told you not to call me
that,” she snapped, trying to jerk her arm free.
She hated it when he called her Cookie, and he knew it. Of course, that
was why he did it.
He had come up with the
nickname right after he’d found out she had a medical degree in addition to her
MBA and law degree. He’d claimed it was a better moniker than Bebe since she
was such a smart cookie, but she knew it wasn’t a compliment.
“I thought you liked
nicknames.” He smiled angelically and widened his eyes to look innocent. “You
call Teagan kanya all the time.”
Kanya was
Bebe’s nickname for her best friend. It meant “girl” in Hindi, the native
language of her Indian ancestors. She had been born and raised in the United
States, but using Hindi words was one way she stayed connected to her heritage.
“Teagan and I are friends,” she pointed out.
He got her message loud
and clear because his eyes got all squinty. “I can be friendly.”
Yes, he could be friendly.
In fact, he was friendly to everyone
but her. He never had anything nice to say to her, and she returned the
sentiment.
She wasn’t sure who had
struck first, probably her, but now they launched verbal missiles at each other
with frequency and precision. He went out of his way to be rude and
antagonistic, and she did the same.
Bebe knew the real reason
she acted like such a bitch around Cal. She liked him, and she didn’t want him
to suspect how she really felt. She didn’t want to be the pathetic geeky girl
with a crush on the hot guy.
Before Cal, she had never
been attracted to any man. She’d never even experienced a high school crush
because she had entered the ninth grade when she was twelve and had graduated
when she was fifteen. She had immediately headed off to college, and she’d
obtained two bachelor’s degrees in three years.
By the time she had been
able to vote, she had been in her first year of medical school. She’d become
accustomed to being viewed as a study partner rather than a sex partner.
She wasn’t oblivious,
though, and over the years, she had noticed good-looking men. But she had never
felt that zing of sexual attraction until she had met Cal four years ago. She
hated the way he made her feel: gauche, nervous, and overstimulated. When he
was near, sounds were louder, colors were brighter, and smells were stronger.
Right now, she could smell
him, a panty-soaking aroma of warm male and expensive cologne. It was so
delicious, she could barely concentrate on the conversation swirling around
her.
“Even though Antigua was
amazing, I’m glad to be home,” Teagan said, ignoring Cal and Bebe’s sniping. “I
missed everyone. Mom and Dad. Quinn and Amelia. Bebe. Letty.”
“You didn’t miss me?” Cal
asked, feigning hurt feelings.
Bebe knew Teagan had
intentionally excluded Cal, trying to annoy him. The O’Brien siblings teased
one another mercilessly. Their relationship was so different from the one Bebe
had with her older brothers.
She rarely talked with
Pritam and Ranjit, and when she did, they definitely didn’t tease her. They
didn’t even call her Bebe. They insisted on referring to her by her full name,
Bindu, which she hated.
“No. I missed Kim more
than I missed you,” Teagan replied, referring to the woman who did her nails at
the swanky spa she frequented.
Teagan’s snarky response
made laughter well in Bebe’s throat. Before she could choke them back, giggles
escaped her. Cal stiffened next to her, and she mentally prepared for their
next verbal battle.
Ready. Aim. Fire.
Cal and Bebe's relationship may have started as an arrangement for her to lose her virginity, but neither of them went into it thinking it was just about sex. It became about Bebe experience a long series of firsts, that would eventually be only's for both of them. They had a few things going against them - her secret fiancé, blackmail and the truth about their feelings for each other - but Bebe figured out a way to finally deal with her problems and Cal showed her how loveable she was. Sweet, funny, charming, sexy and romantic, this if my favorite of the series!
I received an ARC via NetGalley for the purpose of an honest review. I was not compensated for this review, all conclusions are my own.
Jenna Sutton is a former award-winning journalist who traded fact for fiction when she began writing novels. Surprisingly, the research she conducted for her articles provided a lot of inspiration for her books.
Jenna is the author of the Riley O’Brien & Co. romances including All the Right Places and Coming Apart at the Seams. She has a Bachelor’s degree in Journalism from Texas Christian University and a Master’s degree in Integrated Marketing Communications from Northwestern University.
Jenna and her husband live in a 103-year-old house in Texas affectionately known as “The Money Pit”. You can find out more about her and her books by visiting www.jennasutton.com.
Thank you for sharing your fabulous review!
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