Julie Miller wants one thing, and she wants it now: a trophy.

Not just any trophy: the First Prize Trophy for the San Francisco Flower Competition. She may not have the classical training of her nemesis, who’s won the last five titles, but this is her year and she’s taking no prisoners. Only when a sexy man walks right up to her and kisses the breath out of her, Julie wonders if there’s a spark inside for more than just rose petals.

The men in Scott Wright’s family always know their true love by her kiss… and Scott’s kissed a lot of women. Most only want him for his money and status—until Julie. Only she’s so focused on winning her trophy that he’s afraid she’s going to miss the true prize: love.

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Mad about You — Chapter One

Grounds for Thought, the neighborhood café, had been transformed into a sultan’s palace for Nicole’s lingerie debut. Gauzy material hanging all over, seductive music, dim lighting…

For everyone else, there was romance and excitement in the air tonight. For Julie, it was hell. The lingerie show was about to start, and her freakin’ orchid wouldn’t drape properly.

Julie glared at it, knowing her frustration had nothing to do with the flower and everything to do with her nemesis and their impending duel. But all thoughts of flowers and evil florists vacated her mind when he caught her eye.

He was medium height, muscular without being bulky. She liked the way he was dressed: nice slacks and a T-shirt under a dressy jacket. She could tell they were good quality but unpretentious and comfortable looking. He had short hair, a strong chin, and a hint of stubble. He walked like he owned the world, confident and sure.
Kind of attractive.

Okay—really hot.

And he headed straight for her.

He stopped in front of her, so close she could see the dark flecks in his hazel eyes. “What’s your name?” he asked.

His voice gave her goose bumps. She swallowed thickly. “Julie Miller.”

“Julie Miller”—he stepped closer—”I’m going to kiss you.”

She looked at his mouth. It was a nice mouth, not too thin, not too full. It looked like it might know what to do, but she figured she should check. “Are you a good kisser?”

“You tell me.” He cupped the side of her face and lowered his lips to hers.

It started soft, as if he was giving her time to adjust to the feel of him. Even though he wasn’t aggressive, he was still in charge.

She liked that. She’d gone out with way too many guys who were wimps. She appreciated the strength because, really, if a man were going to stay with her, he’d have to be strong to withstand her.

Was he?

She closed the remaining gap between them, wrapped her arm around his neck, and tested him with a real kiss.
He didn’t miss a beat. His fingers tangled in her ponytail, holding her firm. He slanted his mouth and took her—lips, a little tongue, a lot of heat.

A shiver of pleasure ran up her spine, and she hummed as she tried to get closer.

Somewhere, music started. She could feel her heart beating in time with the bass. She distantly realized that the lingerie show had started, but she really didn’t care.
Reluctantly he lifted his head, his gaze searching hers. “I need to pay attention to the show.”

She nodded, more interested in the huskiness of his voice and the evidence of his arousal pressed against her thigh than any lingerie. “Okay.”

The corner of his mouth hitched. “Do you want to know my name?”

“Are we going to see each other again?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. His hand still in her hair, he rubbed the corner of her mouth. “Scott Wright.”

“Nice to meet you, Scott.” She studied him. “Are you a serial killer?”

A glimmer of humor lit his eyes. “No.”

“A polygamist?”

“Do I look like I have multiple wives?”

“No, but you also don’t look like you’d walk up to a random stranger and kiss the bejesus out of her.”

“I’ve never done that, and you’re not random.” He caressed the side of her face, as if memorizing her face. Then he lowered his lips to hers again.

Just like the first time, the kiss curled her toes. It fizzled all the way down her spine, out her limbs, and back. She’d never been kissed like this—wholehearted and without reservation. Unapologetically. Confidently.

She heard clapping. For a second she thought it was for them, but then she remembered what was going on. “We’re in the middle of a lingerie show,” she said against his lips.

“It’s fitting since I want to take yours off.”

She felt a tremor of excitement deep in her belly. Sign her up for that. “Probably not best to do it in front of all these people.”

“Probably not.” Putting space between them, he ran a hand down her back. “Think there’s a private space in the back?”

“They’re using it as a dressing room.”


He sounded so regretful that she had to kiss him again. She poured a whole lot of desire into it. It surprised her how much there was because she had too much on her plate to date to deal with a man. The San Francisco Flower Competition was weeks away and she was going to win this year.

Plus, she didn’t know this man. At least she knew his name now.

Scott growled and caught her up closer. “We’re going to do this again, but somewhere private.”



She mentally ran through her workload. “How’s Monday?”

“Too far away.”

“It’s Friday today.”

“Like I said, too far away.” He stroked her hair. “But I’ll take what you give me. Do you have a card?”

With a little regret, she untangled herself from him and reached into her pocket. She always kept a few cards on her, the half-sized ones because women’s jean pockets were never functional.

He studied it and then slipped it into his inside coat pocket. “I’ll call you.”


“See you Monday, Julie.” He kissed her again, slow and lingering, before he went to watch the show.