Reformed Bad Girl

  REFORMED BAD GIRL

  Shelley Munro

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Excerpt – Playing to Win

  About Shelley

  Other Books by Shelley

  Copyright Page

  Blurb

  Spontaneity is a serpent, sent to derail a good girl’s intentions…

  A little mistake. Just one reckless blunder, and Hayley Jones finds herself hip deep in man trouble. Very sexy man trouble, it’s true, but she has made promises to tread the good-girl line. Conservative. Responsible. Sensible, too. These days, she embraces her life as a secretary and stays in nights to save money. Yet there’s something about wealthy businessman Sam Norville that prods her inner imp to mischievous life. A chance meeting, a margarita…okay, three…a stolen kiss, and suddenly—against every screaming instinct—she’s embracing her bad girl persona.

  Sam, a successful businessman, doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Not anymore. For him, involvement with any woman means risking a run-in with the tabloid press. But his mysterious lover keeps him coming back, keeps him prodding her for more…like the truth. Of course it’s not love. Heck, no. Sam only does lust.

  Hayley knows she shouldn’t want Sam, especially since she’s been economical with the facts. The right thing to do? Shove that naughty bad girl off her shoulder and come clean. But the pesky imp just won’t budge…

  Warning: Contains a gypsy tea leaf reader, a one-night stand, and more secrets and confusion than one can poke a stick at. Sounds like trouble to me…

  Chapter One

  “I see a line of dots.” Hayley Jones peered solemnly into her customer’s white china teacup. Outside her red curtain-partitioned area of the tea tent, children shrieked with excitement as they lined up for the Ferris wheel and merry-go-round. Her assistant chatted to one of the ladies in charge of the tea, extolling the high points of a reading by Madam Deveraux.

  Somewhere in the distance, a toddler howled and a brass band played “Rock Around the Clock”. Closer, touts shouted spasmodically about the exciting things available at their stalls. The clatter of china and the muted gossip of the ladies in the makeshift café added to the cacophony of fairground sounds.

  “What do the dots mean?” Wide-eyed, the young woman didn’t take her attention off Hayley. She held her breath in excited anticipation, delicate rose shading her cheeks and echoing the swathe of pink in her blonde hair. “Are they important?”

  “Usually the dots mean the arrival of money,” Hayley said with an inward smile. After participating in several fetes, it wasn’t as difficult to fake reading teacups, and her panic about being labeled a phony had lessened, especially since she’d found a great book at the library. Since then, she’d collected a variety of books on the subject. Now, if anyone asked her a question, be it on the history of reading tea leaves or the meanings of the symbols left behind in the cup, she had a ready answer for them. “Are you in line for a promotion at work?”

  “Yes! Well, I’m taking over the duties of personal assistant now I’ve finished my secretarial course.”

  “Ah,” Hayley said with authority. “That will be it, then. I’m sure you’ll receive a pay rise soon.”

  “Wonderful,” the girl said. “I’ll be able to afford the new pair of shoes I’ve been eyeing, and I can save for my Greek holiday. I’m going with my boyfriend.”

  “You should be able to save more money,” Hayley agreed, her long golden earrings swaying against her cheeks as she nodded in encouragement.

  “Thanks so much, Madam Deveraux. A promotion is exactly what I need. You’ve made my day.”

  “All part of the service,” Hayley said, accepting the pound coins the girl handed her. She dropped them into her tip jar, her smile lasting until the beaded door curtains swished back into place after the girl left.

  If only she could sort out her own problems in a similar manner. A home of her own. Perhaps a man to go with it. Heck, she could count the number of dates she’d had this year on one hand, and she could hack off her thumb because it wasn’t required for counting calculations. And as for sex, she hadn’t found a man she liked enough to move into that territory.

  “My womanly parts have atrophied through lack of use,” she muttered with a rueful roll of eyes. Her birthday. No man. No date. Great way to pass the time—wallowing in self-pity. And talking to herself!

  “Pssst! Hayley, do you have a minute?”

  Hayley scrubbed the backs of her hands over moist eyes and jumped to her feet. She parted the beaded curtain and pasted a welcoming smile on her face. “Suzie, what are you doing here? Caren,” she smiled at her assistant, “just holler if someone else arrives for a reading, and I’ll shunt my friend on her way.”

  “Will do,” Caren said. “It’s almost time for a break, anyway. I’ll put up the ‘back in ten minutes’ sign. Do you want anything to eat or drink? I’m starving. I didn’t have time for breakfast.”

  “I’m good. Thanks, Caren.”

  Suzie entered the tent and took possession of the chair across the table from Hayley, giving a loud yawn. Her haphazard ponytail and the blue shadows of tiredness beneath her eyes did nothing to detract from her dark beauty. Her tight black jeans and blue midriff-baring top showcased a lithe and sexy figure, while her black leather backpack lent a touch of individuality. Suzie blinked and smiled. “I doubt your mother would recognize you in that getup. I scarcely recognize you with the makeup and brown contact lenses. And your hair—it looks so different when you wear it down and don’t straighten it.”

  “I’ve grown rather fond of my gypsy persona,” Hayley said, shaking her wrist to set her charm bracelet clinking. “Who knew teacups could be so profitable? Soon I’ll have enough money to buy my own flat.”

  “And I can pay you rent,” Suzie finished with a laugh. “I know, and I can’t wait. Does anyone know you moonlight as a gypsy?”

  “Are you kidding? My boss at the Home Office would have a fit. Management frowns on anyone working two jobs. They’re ultra-conservative, but I put up with it because the money’s good. I haven’t told anyone but you. You know what my parents’ reaction would be. They’re so snobby.” They disapproved of many of her decisions. Hayley had given up trying to please them. Nothing she did was good enough.

  Suzie shrugged. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them. I wanted to catch you before you left this morning. I slept in.” She bent to retrieve a bright lime green parcel from her backpack. “Happy birthday!”

  Hayley leaned across the small wooden table to hug Suzie, tears filling her eyes. Her friend was the only one who’d remembered her birthday. “Thanks, Suzie. It could have waited until tonight.”

  “I won’t be there. I’m heading into work, and this evening I have a work function. In fact, why don’t you come to the party?” She clapped her hands together and bounced up and down on her chair. “I don’t know why the idea didn’t occur before. It’s at the private rooms of the pub just down the road from work. You know the one we met at last week?”

  “Oh, I don’t—”

  “I insist and will even spring for a cab home. I’m staying at Gareth’s tonight. Please come. You can’t stay home alone on your birthday. And don’t tell me you didn’t intend on doing that. You’ve been working so hard you haven’t had time to meet a man, let alone get up to any mischief.”

  Hayley hesitated. Perhaps it
was a good idea to get out instead of moping alone at the flat. She could always sneak out of the party early if things went south and made her uncomfortable. “All right,” she said. “What time?”

  “Party starts at eight in the Navigator Room. I’ll leave an invitation for you at the door in case you can’t find me. The place will be packed since the boss wanted clients invited and staff.”

  Caren stuck her head through the curtain. “There’s someone waiting.” She held a pack of sandwiches in her hand. “Do you want a longer break or should I collect their admission fee?”

  “You’re busy,” Suzie said. “I’ll leave you to it. Ooh! One more thing, I almost forgot. The boss is letting me put together the conference program for Wainwright Teas. I want you to come along and read teacups. It’s a paying gig, and I can schedule your part for the evening and weekend so it doesn’t clash with your job.”

  The price she named made Hayley’s mouth drop open in astonishment. “But I’m not the real deal.” Hayley lowered her voice in case anyone was eavesdropping. “Fetes and market days are one thing, but a conference is different. They’re business people. What if your boss finds out and sacks you because of me?” She hadn’t met Suzie’s new boss, but she’d heard about the wealthy businessman. The man played as hard as he worked, much to the delight of the gossip magazines.

  “Oh, pish-posh.” Suzie waved her hand in disparagement of Hayley’s protest. “They put on their trousers one leg at the time like everyone else. You’re a great listener and very intuitive. You have a natural gift for seeing people for who they are and that’s why your gypsy act is so successful. Please, Hayley. This is the first conference where I’m doing all the organizing. I need you.”

  “I suppose I could do it,” Hayley said in clear doubt.

  “Excellent. See you at eight tonight.” With a wave, Suzie sauntered away, pushing through the beaded red curtain and leaving Hayley in a state of turmoil. Her mouth opened to call after her friend, then snapped shut. Her flatmate had scurried away on purpose so Hayley couldn’t change her mind about the conference or the party.

  With a loud sigh, Hayley removed the last customer’s cup from the table and put it out of sight with the other dirty crockery before standing to usher her next customer inside her domain. Today of all days, she needed a shake up, a change in routine. After all, how much trouble could she stir up on a budget?

  Love at first sight. Sam Norville snorted and signaled the bartender for another beer. A man and a woman didn’t fall in love the moment they clapped eyes on each other, despite his family’s evidence to the contrary. His grandparents, his parents, his older brother and, according to his grandmother, his great-grandparents. Only he dared to buck the happy trend, along with his twin sisters who, at twenty, were too young to marry. According to his grandmother, they were all safe until they hit twenty-five. After that, all bets were off.

  Normally he didn’t let family traditions bother him, but everyone had ganged up on him at the family dinner they’d had to celebrate his grandfather’s eightieth birthday the previous weekend. What they didn’t know was he’d already disproved the theory with Amber. He wasn’t about to put himself through the same hell again.

  Sam tipped back his head and drank, allowing the crisp flavor of hops to dance across his taste buds. He enjoyed his single status, refusing to toe the line and follow in his brother’s footsteps, meeting and marrying the woman of his dreams in mere days.

  Wasn’t gonna happen, not when he had more important things to do with his life. Like carving his niche in the business world and enjoying himself. So what if he’d turned twenty-eight last month? There were lots of beautiful, single women in London who liked to party and have fun as much as he did. Besides, the local gossip magazines would suffer if he picked one specific woman. Possibly go out of business, according to his mother. Sam grimaced and shook his head. Nah, wasn’t gonna happen, no matter how many dinners and lectures on family history and happy-ever-after he had to sit through.

  Turning to lean against the polished wooden bar, he scanned the interior of the crowded private room. The steady beat of Salsa music throbbed through concealed speakers, and on the makeshift dance floor several customers and his employees strutted their stuff.

  Normally, he loved to dance, but tonight he wasn’t in the mood. Sam’s attention strayed to study the occupants in the room. He knew the majority of them. A few, like the dark-haired woman sitting in the corner on her own, were strangers. Two women standing at the opposite end of the bar waved and threaded their way through the crowd. Alarm skittered through him. Both were nice enough, but it was easy to see they wanted a permanent man. Without conceit, he knew his bank balance and family connections made him a valuable commodity.

  Not tonight. No, tonight he didn’t want to play the mating game. All he wanted was pleasant company with no commitments. No promises or obligations. A third woman stopped the two who had waved at him. As one, they turned to scrutinize him, clear speculation written across their faces. Determination. Sam knew how a wild animal felt, trapped with nowhere to hide. His gaze darted back to the dark-haired woman sitting on her own, and he came to a quick decision.

  His savior—although she might not appreciate the fact.

  A soft smile played across sensual lips while she watched both the dancers and the people at the bar. There was an intriguing stillness about her, as if she were content with her own company, but that didn’t stop Sam from striding away from the bar, navigating the dancers on the floor, to reach her side.

  Up close, she had a quiet beauty with creamy soft skin and sapphire blue eyes surrounded by a mass of dark lashes. She wasn’t a woman who screamed, “look at me,” but her full curves appealed to him. Nothing worse than a string-bean woman with jutting hipbones and stick arms. No, he preferred someone healthy and robust, who didn’t look as if she’d break when he held her.

  “Hello, darling,” he said, and he lifted her off the chair, hauling her into his arms. Before she reacted, he lowered his head and kissed her. To anyone else, to the three women stalking him, it would appear like a quick peck between friends, but with this woman, something changed.

  Shock roared through him and he froze. He pulled back enough so he could stare down at her, trying to fathom the sense of possessiveness that had blindsided him without warning. Yes, her eyes were beautiful. Stunning. The freckles across the bridge of her nose were cute. She smelled of wildflowers, a light, natural scent that didn’t make his eyes water or bring on a sneeze.

  This woman was…

  No way. No how! Not possible. He would not act on the instinct screaming through him. He’d traveled that road before. No, all he intended to do was chat, dance and reassure himself that this love at first sight stuff was a load of crap. And of course, avoid the three stooges stalking him at the same time.

  He released the woman and offered her a grin, the charming type his mother and sisters accused him of using whenever he wanted something.

  “Hello, I’m Sam. You don’t know it yet, but you’ve just saved my life. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “If you wanted an original pickup line, you’ve found it,” she said, cocking her head to the side to look up at him. Her voice was low and throaty. Seductive. And her mouth… Oh, yeah. Her bottom lip glistened, the plump pink curve highlighted with the remnants of a gloss. Sam wanted to touch, but curled his hands to fists to halt the impulse.

  “You haven’t heard my best ones yet.” Sam held out his hand and waited for her to acknowledge his greeting.

  “Oh?” The beginnings of a grin twitched at the corner of her sexy lips, but didn’t travel any farther. Slowly, she stepped back to put a more respectable distance between them. Sam’s heart thudded violently without warning, and he found himself wanting to make her smile. He could picture her face lighting up and wanted to see if his imagination matched the truth.

  “How much will you charge me for a smile?”

  “You’re funny.” She placed
her hand in his. When she tipped back her head to study him and their hands touched, a prickly spark of desire flared up his arm. His sharp inhalation sounded loud, harsh to his ears, but the woman didn’t seem to notice. Her attention centered on his lips, in the same way he’d looked at hers. She seemed mesmerized, certainly as interested as he was in touching, tasting her mouth and making her smile.

  Sam felt as if he was back at school, a teenager with a crush on the most popular girl in his class. He wanted to swallow and shuffle his feet. He wanted to caress her mouth again in the worst possible way. This time he’d make the kiss slower. Deepen it. Explore. Conquer. The unwanted idea registered, and he frowned, drawing back and releasing her hand.

  “And yet I haven’t made you smile. I can’t be as funny as you thought.” Sam had to clear his throat, something that surprised him since he enjoyed female company. Always had, and they, in turn, seemed to react well to him. “I’m going to kiss you again. Should I apologize first? Damn, no time.” He grasped her shoulders and, with his fingers, lifted her chin. Their eyes met and his pulse jumped. Incredible. The shuffle of feet behind them and a wave of cough-inducing designer perfume told him he was out of time.

  His mouth swooped to capture hers—his mystery lady.

  He’d kissed many women. He enjoyed kissing women and was good at it.

  This kiss seemed different.

  Heat flared between them, a primitive hunger seizing him and savoring her shiver of reaction. Pleasure radiated outward, and he stepped right into the fire, letting his hands wander the silky fabric covering her shoulders, her back. The blood roared through his veins. His eager response, fueled by her smothered moan of pleasure, sent shock waves skittering through him.

  And surprise.

  This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t, wouldn’t trust his instincts with women again. That way lay trouble. He pulled back, easing away from the kiss.

  Aware his trio of stalkers hovered in the vicinity, waiting for an opportunity to approach, he tightened his grip on the woman and took her hand. Crazy. He should thank her for the save and leave. But he didn’t. “Would you like to dance?”