more than promises. What a fool she’d been. It was all so much window dressing. She’d pinned her future on a fraud and a crook, and she was so angry with herself she could spit.
The only person she’d confided in was her friend Jocelyn who told her to go to New Orleans and find herself a sexy stranger, someone nothing at all like Craig, who could help her get the jackass out of her brain. Someone who could make her forget the disaster her life had turned into. Some spicy Cajun man she could have a fling with. Even if she wasn’t the flinging type, going a little wild might be exactly what she needed. Following the rules hadn’t gotten her anything except betrayed, dumped, and fired.
She thought about taking Jocelyn’s advice. Maybe she’d go to Pat O’Brien’s and have one of their famous Hurricanes. Maybe she’d even have three or four, get herself a little blitzed, and meet some spicy Cajun man. Throw caution to the winds for a few days.
First order of business, however, was to catch a cab to the hotel, change into something comfortable, and wander through the French Quarter. The curb was jammed with people there to celebrate Mardi Gras. Daisy managed to squeeze herself into a space and waited for the next taxi in line to roll up to her.
“Montmartre Hotel,” she told the driver as he got out to grab her suitcase.
“Mind if we share the ride, chere ?” The voice behind her was deep and hot, rolling over her like warm melted chocolate.
Daisy turned to see who it was and there he was, as if she’d conjured him up. Her spicy Cajun male. Sexy for sure, he was tall and lean, with a thick shock of black hair and startling blue eyes. She couldn’t stop staring at him.
“Uh, excuse me, chere. Do you still want the cab?”
“What? Oh!” She realized she was standing there like an idiot. “Oh, yes.”
“Well, I heard you say you were goin’ to the Montmartre Hotel. So happens I’m goin’ there myself. Think we can share a ride?”
Maybe this was the distraction she was looking for, a ride with a man who oozed sex appeal and could take her mind off her troubles for a while. She’d wished for him, right? No sense letting Craig ruin any more of her life, at least as far as this trip went.
She gave herself a mental shake. “I’d love to share a cab with you.”
“Great. Great.” He held the cab door for her, waited for her to slide in then settled himself beside her.
God, he smelled so good. She took a surreptitious sniff. Patchouli! Wow . She hadn’t smelled that in a very long time. Nerve endings blunted by the shock of her situation suddenly snapped and sizzled to life. She took a deep breath, the fragrance of patchouli teasing her senses even more, and did her best to compose herself.
“Don’t usually see beautiful ladies heading for Mardi Gras alone.” The smooth-as-bourbon voice slid over her and snagged her attention.
She glanced over at him, which was nearly her undoing. The look in those deep-blue eyes nearly melted her panties. “Excuse me?”
He grinned, a twist of his lips that was almost lethal. “I was just remarkin’ I’m surprised that someone as gorgeous as you is hitting Mardi Gras by yourself.”
Should she tell him? Why not? She’d never see him again. And she didn’t have to give him Craig’s name. It was already in all the media but, thankfully, without hers being linked to it.
“I, um, had a fiancé who was supposed to go with me, but he’s in the wind.” She lifted her shoulders in what she hoped was a casual shrug.
He cocked an eyebrow. “I can hardly believe any man in his right man would walk out on you.”
“Yeah, well, it happened. That and a lot more.” She forced a smile. “Anyway, hasn’t anyone ever told you that pickup line is pretty outdated?”
He laughed, a deep, sensual sound. “I guess it is, but in this case, I mean it.” She could feel his gaze raking over her. “Did he run off with another woman?” Mr. Hot Stuff shook his
The only person she’d confided in was her friend Jocelyn who told her to go to New Orleans and find herself a sexy stranger, someone nothing at all like Craig, who could help her get the jackass out of her brain. Someone who could make her forget the disaster her life had turned into. Some spicy Cajun man she could have a fling with. Even if she wasn’t the flinging type, going a little wild might be exactly what she needed. Following the rules hadn’t gotten her anything except betrayed, dumped, and fired.
She thought about taking Jocelyn’s advice. Maybe she’d go to Pat O’Brien’s and have one of their famous Hurricanes. Maybe she’d even have three or four, get herself a little blitzed, and meet some spicy Cajun man. Throw caution to the winds for a few days.
First order of business, however, was to catch a cab to the hotel, change into something comfortable, and wander through the French Quarter. The curb was jammed with people there to celebrate Mardi Gras. Daisy managed to squeeze herself into a space and waited for the next taxi in line to roll up to her.
“Montmartre Hotel,” she told the driver as he got out to grab her suitcase.
“Mind if we share the ride, chere ?” The voice behind her was deep and hot, rolling over her like warm melted chocolate.
Daisy turned to see who it was and there he was, as if she’d conjured him up. Her spicy Cajun male. Sexy for sure, he was tall and lean, with a thick shock of black hair and startling blue eyes. She couldn’t stop staring at him.
“Uh, excuse me, chere. Do you still want the cab?”
“What? Oh!” She realized she was standing there like an idiot. “Oh, yes.”
“Well, I heard you say you were goin’ to the Montmartre Hotel. So happens I’m goin’ there myself. Think we can share a ride?”
Maybe this was the distraction she was looking for, a ride with a man who oozed sex appeal and could take her mind off her troubles for a while. She’d wished for him, right? No sense letting Craig ruin any more of her life, at least as far as this trip went.
She gave herself a mental shake. “I’d love to share a cab with you.”
“Great. Great.” He held the cab door for her, waited for her to slide in then settled himself beside her.
God, he smelled so good. She took a surreptitious sniff. Patchouli! Wow . She hadn’t smelled that in a very long time. Nerve endings blunted by the shock of her situation suddenly snapped and sizzled to life. She took a deep breath, the fragrance of patchouli teasing her senses even more, and did her best to compose herself.
“Don’t usually see beautiful ladies heading for Mardi Gras alone.” The smooth-as-bourbon voice slid over her and snagged her attention.
She glanced over at him, which was nearly her undoing. The look in those deep-blue eyes nearly melted her panties. “Excuse me?”
He grinned, a twist of his lips that was almost lethal. “I was just remarkin’ I’m surprised that someone as gorgeous as you is hitting Mardi Gras by yourself.”
Should she tell him? Why not? She’d never see him again. And she didn’t have to give him Craig’s name. It was already in all the media but, thankfully, without hers being linked to it.
“I, um, had a fiancé who was supposed to go with me, but he’s in the wind.” She lifted her shoulders in what she hoped was a casual shrug.
He cocked an eyebrow. “I can hardly believe any man in his right man would walk out on you.”
“Yeah, well, it happened. That and a lot more.” She forced a smile. “Anyway, hasn’t anyone ever told you that pickup line is pretty outdated?”
He laughed, a deep, sensual sound. “I guess it is, but in this case, I mean it.” She could feel his gaze raking over her. “Did he run off with another woman?” Mr. Hot Stuff shook his
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