Released in: April 2007 UK January 2008 US
Blurb
Jessie Connor is an English rose with firecracker red hair and a temperament to match. Honest, open and impulsive with a capital I, she's set her heart on finding Mr Right.
Monroe Latimer is a tough loner with a past. A drop-dead gorgeous Harley-riding American bad boy who doesn't do committment. No way, no how.
One look at Monroe and Jessie knows he's about as Mr Wrong as a guy can get, there's just one great big flaming problem. He fires her blood like no other man ever has and his killer baby blues are focussed right on her. His look says he'll bed her - but never wed her...
Is Jessie the one who can tame the untameable?
Crits
'Heidi Rice is simply terrific! Bedded by a Bad Boy is smart, sassy and sexy and absolutely unputdownable! You will absolutely love Jessie and Monroe is simply delectable. Heidi’s characters leap off the pages and will come alive in your mind and linger long after the last page is turned.
Bedded by a Bad Boy is a book which has got it all: a gorgeous hero, a feisty heroine, electrifying sexual tension and romance so hot you will need to put your air conditioner on!'
Cataromance
'I don't ask a lot of the books I read but that they make me feel and this one definitely did. There were unexpected twists to the story and enjoyable secondary characters too.
Overall, a wonderful read and an excellent debut effort.'
The Pink Heart Society
‘Monroe and Jessie are real and well developed characters who with difficulty overcome fears and prejudices to be together. Jess’s sister and Monroe’s brother are wonderful characters who help to add background to the story and little Emmy is an absolute joy. The reader will not be able to put this one down until the end.'
Coffee Time Romance
Sneak Peek
This excerpt comes from a few pages into the first chapter. Jessie has spied Monroe having a skinny dip in her sister and brother-in-law’s pool. Jessie thinks he’s a trespasser (he’s actually her brother-in-law Linc’s long-lost brother), so – once he’s slipped his jeans back on – she decides to tackle him herself…
Keeping her breathing slow and steady, Jessie tiptoed across the patio. She stopped dead when her trespasser shoved whatever it was he'd been staring at back into his pocket. When he didn't turn around, but reached for his t-shirt, she let go of the breath caught in her throat.
Humming some tuneless melody, he sat down on the sun-drenched tiles, rubbed his feet with the T-shirt and picked up a sock.
Sticking her two fingers out, Jessie shoved the points between his shoulder blades and shouted out in her most authoritative voice. ‘Don't move. I have a gun.’
He stopped humming, his back went rigid and he dropped his sock.
‘Okay, don't get excited.’ His voice was gruff and tight with annoyance. He sounded American, but there was something else about his accent she couldn’t quite place.
‘Put your hands up, but don't turn around.’
His skin felt warm, but the muscles beneath were hard as rock, flexing under her fingers as he raised his arms. Up close, he looked a lot more dangerous. Jessie spotted a faded tattoo across his left bicep. Ridged white scar lines criss-crossed the tanned skin of his back. But then she noticed something else. Despite the impressive muscles across his shoulders and upper arms, he didn't have an ounce of fat on him. He was so lean, she could make out his ribs. A Goliath who didn't eat properly? How odd.
‘Listen, put the gun down and I'll get out of here. No harm, no foul.’
He started to turn. She prodded her fingers harder into his spine. ‘Don't turn around, I said.’
‘Easy.’ He didn't sound scared, just really pissed off. Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea after all. ‘I'm putting my hands down,’ he ground out. ‘I've been on the bike all day and I'm beat.’ He lowered his arms.
The seconds ticked by interminably.
‘So what do we do now?’ he asked.
Jessie's heart hammered against her ribcage and sweat pooled between her breasts. Heck, she hadn't thought this far ahead. Where was Linc? Her fingers were starting to hurt.
‘Where you from? You sound English?’ he said.
‘I think where you're from is probably a more pertinent question,’ Jessie shot back. No arrogant trespasser was going to charm her.
He leaned forward. Jessie's heart jolted in her chest. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Grabbing my socks. Any objections?’ The response was measured, calm and condescending.
Jessie bristled. ‘Fine, but next time ask permission.’ Just as she issued the order, her tightly clamped fingers twitched.
The trespasser's back tensed and his head swung round. Oops!
‘Damn it!’
Jessie jumped back, yelping, as her prey shot up and grabbed her in one quick, furious movement.
‘Let me go,’ she shrieked, struggling to pull her arms free as his large hands clamped on her arms like manacles.
‘The finger routine. I got to hand it to you, I never thought I'd fall for that one.’
Striking blue eyes stared daggers at her out of a face that would have done Michelangelo proud. The man was quite simply beautiful. Jessie gulped, momentarily transfixed, taking in the high, slashing cheekbones, the rakish stubble on his chin and the daredevil scar across his left eyebrow. Adonis or not, his face was as hard as granite. He looked ready to murder someone and from the way his fingers dug into her arms, she knew exactly who it was.
Her heart rate shot up to warp speed. Don't pass out you silly cow. This is no time to panic. Twisting, Jessie kicked out with her bare foot and connected with his shin.
‘Ow! Stop that you little hellcat,’ he yelled, yanking her towards him and wrapping his arms around her.
‘Let me go. You -- You trespasser.’ With her face pressed against the soft curling hair on his chest, the demand came out on a muffled squeak. The smell of fresh, wet male was overpowering. She lifted her knee, intending to stamp on his foot, but before she could make contact, he tensed and shot backwards.
‘Watch out!’
His hands let go. Jessie turned, poised to bolt for freedom, but he grabbed her from behind. Strong arms banded under her breasts and he lifted her off the ground as if she weighed nothing at all. She kicked, frantically, but he was holding her so close, so tight, she couldn't get any leverage.
Okay, now was the perfect time to panic.
Bedded by a Bad Boy by Heidi Rice © 2007 ® & TM are trademarks of the publisher. The edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books. For more romance information go to eHarlequin.com