Compatible? Never. But the numbers don't lie…
Sports reporter Mitch MacKinnon is stuck writing an exposé about a local dating service, and no amount of foot-dragging or complaining will get him out of it. When he gets a look at the sexy blonde owner, things start looking up. He'd love the chance to date Juliette Lowell a time or two. But he's here to dish the dirt that'll be his ticket to a big-time newspaper; a relationship is the furthest thing from his mind.
Juliette's got Mitch pegged from the word go-he's an overgrown jock who wouldn't know a true emotion if it was wrapped in pigskin. Delicious dimples and killer brown eyes aside, the man is incredibly infuriating. All she needs is one chance to prove she can find a perfect match for anyone. Even him.
Then her "foolproof" database spits out the results. Mitch's perfect match? Juliette. If she's right, Mitch will have to eat his words-and the story that'll take him to the top.
Warning: This title contains hot, sweaty couch dancing; long, slow, hot, wet kisses that last three days, and toe-curling romance.
Showing 1-1 of the 1 most recent reviews
1 . Great Book
Posted February 17, 2010 by Christy , EdwardsvilleNot my favorite Shelley Bradley but a great read.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
May 12, 2008
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from A Perfect Match by Shelley Bradley
Mitch glanced at his watch. 9:10. He'd made an appointment with Ms. Lowell's receptionist to meet at 9:30. So he was a little early. Big deal. He wanted this article researched and written ASAP. The sooner he finished with "Community Happenings", the sooner he could return to real writing, even if it was just sports. For now. The sooner John would mention him to Russ Kendrick.
He jumped out of his truck, locking it behind him with a beep. A Perfect Match was nestled in a newer part of Santa Clarita, which had cropped up during the last decade. The office sat in a strip mall, situated between an uptown day spa and a restaurant that billed itself as The Brunchery, whatever that was.
Welcome to a new world of romance and relationships, the window's poster read, above people making middle-school goo-goo eyes at one another. He groaned. Since John insisted on assigning him fluff, why couldn't the man have given him something simple, like the upcoming holiday bazaar?
The late November wind sliced through the morning air. Mitch lifted the collar of his leather jacket around his ears and dashed into A Perfect Match. The receptionist's chair sat empty.
"Hello? Anyone here?"
No reply. Odd. But maybe in a good way. If no one was here, maybe he could sneak around a bit, get a little scoop, see if he could find out what kind of business Juliette Lowell ran.
Mitch ventured past the reception area and took about a dozen steps down the hallway. He peeked into the first opening on his left. Nothing but a photocopier, a fax machine and a half-empty coffee pot.
Had everyone left? Maybe they'd gone to The Brunchery.
Scowling, he wandered farther down the hall, past a series of framed wedding pictures, presumably of various clients. He peered at Sarah and Lucas, June 17, 2006. They looked pretty normal. So did Jessica and Matthew, married March 3, 2007. He shrugged. Looks could be deceiving.
A streak of light beaming through a three-inch crack in the last door caught his attention. Ms. Lowell's office? He prowled another few steps to the open door at the end of the hall. Leaning against the frame, he peered inside.
His first sight was of a blonde on all fours with a truly beautiful ass in the air. Her shapely rear end, sheathed in a pencil-slim red skirt, outlined the alluring curve of her waist and hips. Spectacular. Man, what he wouldn't love to do to a naked woman with her curves in that tempting position...
Lengths of golden hair hung over her shoulders, flowing almost to her hands. From the posterior view anyway, she was definitely worth looking at.
"Ugh! This is the second time in a week," she muttered, combing the carpet beside her desk, clearly searching for something. "Thank God it's Friday."
Out of the corner of his eye, Mitch noticed a flicker of something less than a foot from her knee. Hunching down, he retrieved the item. The back to an earring. Its loss could be devastating, according to his sister. Maybe rescuing this damsel from her distress would score him some points.
"Is this what you're looking for?" he asked, holding the little gold back in his palm.
With a startled shriek, she whipped her gaze toward him, hand plastered to her chest.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." He thrust the earring back closer to her, his eyes glued to her face.
For a moment, Mitch couldn't breathe. The mass of golden hair she'd swept away from her face with a clip accentuated the classical beauty of her high cheekbones and the full lips she'd tinted a sheer, sexy red.
She glanced at the object in his palm, then reached for the small gold item. Her short nails at the tips of her long fingers were painted red, too. "Thank you."
For a brief moment, Mitch thought about dressing her in red. Lace--and nothing else.
"I--I didn't hear you come in."
Everything about her made his lust flame red.
He grinned. "I kind of got that impression, Miss..."
"Juliette Lowell." She refastened her earring with the back he'd returned to her, then rose to her seemingly average height, and held out her hand.
With shock waves running through his body, he shook it. This was Juliette Lowell, the scam artist? He barely held in a wolf whistle. She was the most gorgeous con he'd ever seen, with blue-green eyes and honey-colored skin. If she was Louise Cannon's idea of interesting, he'd call his boss's wife Loose Cannon a little less often.
"I don't usually greet people on the floor." She blushed sweetly, wearing a wry smile.
Perky yet vulnerable; she made it an interesting combination. Since he'd gotten a mouth-watering view of her backside, he couldn't help stealing a discreet glance at her front. Oh, hell. The drool-worthy sights continued. Her luscious breasts were covered by a sheer white blouse.
He swallowed. "I don't usually sneak up on people in their office."
"My receptionist is out sick. Do you have an appointment?"