Spell of the Highlander: Highlander Series, Book 7

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 6TH

The call that changed the entire course of Jessi St. James's life came on an utterly unremarkable, dateless Friday night that differed in no particularly significant way from any other unremarkable, dateless Friday night in her all-too-predictable life, which ' she was in no hurry to discuss ' were a lot of Friday nights.

She was sitting in the dark on the fire escape outside the kitchen window of her third-floor apartment at 222 Elizabeth Street, enjoying an unseasonably warm autumn evening. She was being a shameless voyeur, peeping around the corner of the brownstone to watch a crowd of people that, unlike her, had time to have a life, and were talking and laughing out on the sidewalk in front of the nightclub across the street.

For the past few minutes she'd been riveted by a leggy redhead and her boyfriend ' a dark-haired, sun-bronzed, muscled hottie in jeans and a white T-shirt. He kept backing his girlfriend up against the wall, stretching her hands above her head, and kissing her like there was no tomorrow, getting into it with his whole gorgeous, rippling body. (And would you just look at that hip action The way he was grinding against her ' they might as well be doing it right there in the street!)

Jessi sucked in a sharp breath.

God, had she ever been kissed like that Like the man couldn't wait to get inside her Like he wanted to devour her, maybe crawl right inside her skin

The redhead's hands slipped free, down to the hottie's ass, fingers curving into his muscled butt, and Jessi's hands curled into fists.

When the hottie's hands skimmed up the redhead's breasts, his thumbs grazing her nipples, Jessi's own went hard as little pearls. She could almost imagine she was the one he was kissing, that she was the one he was about to have hot, animalistic '

Why can't I have a life like that she thought.

You can, an inner voice reminded ' after your PhD.

The reminder wasn't nearly as effective as it had been years ago as an undergrad. She was sick of being in school, sick of being broke, sick of constantly racing from her classes to her full-time job as Professor Keene's assistant, then home to study, or if she was really lucky, snatching a whopping four or five hours of sleep before getting up to do it all over again.