Original Pub Date Feb. 1, 2005
Re-edited and Re-released Dec. 3, 2013
She had to be the worst thief he’d ever seen.
Brandon Walker hasn’t seen Cara Martin in over eight years. When he catches a shapely woman breaking into his colleague’s home files, he takes advantage of the situation. The floor drops out from under his feet when he discovers the thief’s identity.
Cara Martin is no thief, but she’s on the trail of one. All she needs is proof. Before Cara can explain, she’s shoved into a closet and kissed senseless. One minute Brandon’s on the fast track to success. The next, he’s discovered in a compromising position with the one woman Brandon can never have-his best friend’s kid sister.
ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN WICKED WOMEN ON TOP
Kensington Brava • Feb. 1, 2005
Barnes & Noble
WICKED WOMEN ON TOP is a wonderful book that combines the talents of three great authors. The stories are full of action and romance and passion and will surely delight fans of the contemporary genre that like their characters with lots of guts and spunk. All three authors did an excellent job of creating stories that will keep the readers interested and turning the pages to see what happens next. A definite keeper in my opinion, this book is sure to delight readers even after they are done reading.–Romance Junkies
Private Investigations is a funny, romantic story that had me growling! Brandon is an intelligent man with an overly developed sense of duty, loyalty, and honor. His inability to relax is what had me growling . . . however, with Cara’s help Brandon did relax during key moments of the story. Cara is sweet and has a touch of innocence even though she’s doing her best to prove herself to her brother and Brandon. The secondary character of Eliza Rosemary was so quirky and funny; I adored her and would have done anything for her as Cara feels. I completely sighed with pleasure and love over this darling of a story by Ms. Summers.--Vikky Bertling, Just Erotic Romance Review
Read an Excerpt
“Take your clothes off.”
“Excuse me?” Cara swung her flashlight around, her gaze bulleting to Brandon ’s face. He couldn’t be serious. Under the beam, his chiseled features were hard—unyielding.
Brandon loosened his tie. “We don’t have time to argue,” he growled in frustration. “Do as I say, Cavanaugh will be here any second.”
“How do you know it’s him?”
He looked at her as if she were dense. “Who else would it be? The party is downstairs, or hadn’t you noticed?”
The click of a switch sent light streaking in through the crack of the door. They both stilled instantly, listening. He was here. Cara shoved her flashlight into a nearby jacket pocket, before once again facing Brandon.
She leaned close and whispered, “It wasn’t my idea to hide in the closet.”
“No, it was your idea to break into his office the night of the corporate Christmas party,” he hissed.
“What were you thinking?”
“Oh shut up, he’s going to hear us.”
Footsteps padded across the carpeted floor, drawing nearer to their hiding place. Papers shuffled. He must have stopped at his desk, which meant he hadn’t noticed the open closet door yet.
“Take your clothes off now.” Brandon ’s teeth clenched and his green eyes narrowed in warning.
“No!” She shook her head. “There has to be another way.” Cara stepped back, her hand brushing against the Italian silk jackets hanging in the cedar-scented closet. She set her purse down on a shelved ledge.
With speed that contradicted his large size, Brandon moved, reaching for her cashmere sweater. A quick flick of the wrist and he’d managed to pull the material over her head, before tossing it onto the floor.
Cara gasped in disbelief. “I said no.”
Deft fingers reached behind her. She heard a faint click a second before her bra straps slid from her shoulders, spilling her full breasts into the charged air. “You assh—” Before the curse could leave her lips Brandon swept her into his arms, crushing her against his hard chest, his mouth crashing down upon hers in a punishing kiss.
The second their mouths impacted, Cara’s world tilted. Hard met soft, wet melded with dry. Her lids fell as warmth spread throughout her body like a wildfire left unchecked, singeing her senses, scoring her mind. Her nipples beaded against the scrape of his dress shirt, leaving her wanting.
Brandon ’s tongue dipped, teasing, drawing her to him. Before she could stop her response, Cara wound her arms around his neck, sinking her fingers into his thick whiskey-colored hair.
Masculine spice mixed with the sweet champagne he’d been drinking earlier, intoxicating her. Making her forget where they were, why they were there, and who she was with. Their bodies pressed together as muscles locked.
The closet door wrenched open, sending glaring light into the small space. Cara’s eyes flew open, the bright light blinding her for a second. Brandon stepped back from the embrace just enough to look at the intruder, but not leave Cara exposed, his ragged breathing as uncontrolled as her own.
“What the hell are you doing in here?”