Good Girls Don't

by Rosalie Lario

  Good Girls Don’t

  An Everly Brothers Novel

  Rosalie Lario

  Good girls don’t do one-night stands…

  If there’s one thing Lyssa Rivera knows, it’s that good girls don’t do one-night stands. But it only takes a few hours in the company of sexy businessman, James Everly, to change her mind. All she wants is a night of sin with the man who’s admittedly way out of her league. Then she can go back to being painfully, boringly good.

  James Everly doesn’t do relationships, not after the horrible example set by his parents. When he meets a luscious, irresistible woman at his favorite bar, he’s more than ready to show her a night of ecstasy, but that’s all it could ever be. He certainly never plans on seeing her again. Yet when he shows up at his meeting the next morning to woo a venture capitalist, he’s shocked to find his competition is the very woman whose bed he just left.

  James knows he should stay away. He’s no good at long term, and that’s what a woman like Lyssa deserves. But as the two vie for the investor’s attention, he finds himself struggling to choose between the family business and the woman whose touch makes him burn with desire.

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  Good Girls Don’t

  Copyright © November 2014 by Rosalie Lario

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  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior permission of the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.

  Editorial Services provided by Chelle Olson, Literal Addiction.

  License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Books by Rosalie Lario

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  “Bartender, one more, please.”

  The bartender, a surly man in his late twenties who sported a tattoo snaking up his collarbone onto his neck, gave Lyssa Rivera a curt nod. “Coming up.”

  He turned to pour her a second draught of Guinness.

  Lyssa slid her mostly empty glass along the wooden bar top in front of her and let out a deep sigh. Much as she might like to deny it, she was nervous.

  Tomorrow was a big day. One that would determine the focus of her entire upcoming year. Heck, maybe the rest of her life.

  No pressure or anything.

  It was her admitted case of nerves that had led Lyssa to the Dubliner Pub and Brew. After checking into the small but elegant midtown hotel down the street, she’d gone over her presentation until the words were seared into her brain. Given that she lived on the other side of the Brooklyn Bridge, the hotel room had been a bit of a luxury, but she’d wanted to make sure she was on her game for her appointment at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. Her apartment wasn’t the most tranquil of places considering whom she lived with, and she needed to be on point.

  Getting a room a few blocks from where the meeting would be held had seemed like a good idea at the time, but she hadn’t counted on the restlessness that would accompany her killer anxiety. That was what had led her down to the hotel lobby in search of a drink. But the ambience hadn’t been quite what she’d needed, mostly men and women in business suits locked in intense conversations. That had only made her more nervous, so she’d gone outside the hotel in search of a better locale, and had ended up here.

  The Dubliner was perfect. Not too packed like some of the bars in the city could be, but still crowded enough that she didn’t feel like she was on display. Most of the patrons were casually dressed in jeans like her, and the occasional burst of rowdy laughter gave the place a laid-back, non-business sort of feel.

  “Here you go.” The bartender set the glass of thick, dark liquid in front of her.

  “Thanks.” Lyssa finished off the remaining contents of the glass in her hand and slid it across the counter, exchanging it for the full one.

  The bartender picked up her empty glass and walked away.

  Just one more, and then you’ll be able to get some sleep.

  That was the goal, anyway. She wanted to be fresh-eyed and in top form for tomorrow morning’s meeting, not a jumpy bundle of nerves.

  A group of three men sitting to her right vacated their barstools, and a moment later, someone else slid into the empty spot beside her. She didn’t pay any attention until a deep voice sounded out close to her ear. “Guinness, huh? That’s an unusual pick.”

  He didn’t have to clarify what he meant. It was implicit.

  For a woman.

  If there was one thing Lyssa hated, it was sexist assholes. Gritting her teeth, she turned her head to tell him just that. “Only because you don’t—”

  The rest of her words died in her mouth when she got her first look at the man beside her. Her heart did a lazy flop, then resumed its triple-time beat.

  He was gorgeous. Not just your typical good-looking. Straight-up handsome as sin.

  Bright blue eyes stared out of a perfectly symmetrical face. Thick, dark hair was styled into a professional cut. And his straight nose and the stubble lining his slightly-clefted chin only served to accentuate the fullness of his lips.

  He gave her a soft grin, as if he noticed her visceral reaction to the sight of him, but when he spoke again, all he said was, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything. It’s just a thick brew, by anyone’s standards.”

  With no small amount of effort, Lyssa found her voice. “Not your cup of tea, I take it?”

  He grimaced and gave a mock shudder. “Can’t say that it is.”

  The bartender came to a stop in front of him and he turned to order a whiskey, neat. Not being an idiot, she grasped the opportunity to study him further. Even though he was sitting, he appeared close to a foot taller than her diminutive five foot three inches. His sleek yet muscular build was visible through the dark slacks and deep blue, cable-knit sweater he wore.

  Help me, Jesus. The man was fi-i-ine.

  Perfect for a little covert ogling, but who was she kidding? Way out of her league. Latina shorties with frizzy hair, wide noses, and a little extra junk in the trunk did not land underwear models. That was just fact.

  Still, she couldn’t help herself from commenting, “Your poison of choice isn’t exactly average fare either.”

  “Good point.” The bartender set his drink in front of him and he slid a plastic card across the counter before lifting his glass to her in salute. “Here’s to acquired tastes.”

  Shrugging, she r
aised her own glass and took a steady gulp.

  “Name’s James, by the way.” He set his glass down and then offered her his hand.

  “Lyssa.” Even though it was a very un-New-Yorker thing to do, she accepted his offer of a handshake.

  The moment their hands clasped, ribbons of awareness wound through her body, making her nerve endings tingle with anticipation.

  Down, girl.

  He was just being friendly. A man like him would not be interested in someone like her.

  James nodded toward her drink. “So, how’d you get a taste for that stuff?”

  “Old college boyfriend. He used to suck it down like it was water. I think I was half-afraid he’d dump me if I didn’t drink it, too. Somewhere along the line I actually grew to like it.”

  He let out a velvety laugh that sent a little shiver down her body. Rolling his glass in his palms, he said, “Whiskey was a rebellion against my father. He abhorred drinking, so I picked the form of alcohol I figured he’d most despise. Go figure, it grew on me as well.”

  She understood perfectly well the urge to rebel against your parents. How many times had she heard her own mother and father tell her how to behave growing up?

  Good girls don’t play in the dirt.

  Good girls don’t wear short skirts.

  Good girls don’t let boys take advantage of them.

  Blah, blah, blah. With all those rules, was it any wonder that every now and then she’d longed to be bad? She hadn’t, though. That just wasn’t the Rivera way.

  “So, what brings you in here tonight, Lyssa?”

  The fact that he wanted to continue the conversation surprised her. She’d thought he was just being polite, but he seemed genuinely interested in talking to her. Even funnier, despite the fact that she’d originally wanted to be left alone to wallow in her thoughts, the notion of spending a few minutes in discourse with the stranger didn’t seem so bad. There were worse ways to spend an evening.

  “Big meeting tomorrow morning.” Maybe the biggest of her life. The presentation would determine whether she got the funding she needed to grow her marketing firm. If so, the sky was the limit. If not…

  She didn’t even want to think about that.

  James gave her an empathetic glance. “I know what you mean. Me too. Figured a drink or two would help calm my nerves.”

  “Exactly.” She lifted her mug for another sip. “So, what do you do, James?”

  He hesitated for a fraction of a second. “I work for a publishing company.”

  “Ah. I’m in marketing.” When one of his eyebrows shot up, she explained, “Mostly I work for local real estate companies.”

  For now. Once she received the funds from the investor, her plans were to hire some more help and spread out exponentially. But that was the last thing she wanted to think about at the moment. It made her too nervous.

  James’s gaze shot down to her lips, and for a fraction of a second she imagined she saw a glimmer of appreciation there. But no, it couldn’t be. Why would a man who looked like him waste time on her?

  “So Lyssa, are you from New York?” he asked.

  “Brooklyn. But I’m staying at a hotel down the street tonight. Meeting’s early, and I want it to go well.”

  Why she told him all that, she had no clue. The words just tumbled from her mouth.

  “So you’re sleeping alone?” James’s eyes lowered to her left hand and he murmured under his breath, “That seems like a shame.”

  Her mouth dropped open. Had he really just said that?

  Dear god, was he flirting with her?

  Disbelief and a variety of other emotions buffeted her. Never in a million years would she have guessed a man like him would be interested in her, even for a night. The thought made her stomach clench with pure, unadulterated lust. He looked like a god. Many women would probably kill to spend a night in his bed. But somewhere deep inside she thought she should also be pissed at him for making such an insinuation. That was how a good girl should respond.

  To his credit, he seemed as taken aback by what he’d said as she was. His eyes widened and he sucked in a breath, as if just realizing the words had actually left his lips.

  When his mouth opened, she realized he was about to apologize…and she didn’t want him to.

  If a sex god was open to flirting with her, plain old Lyssa, just this once she wanted to indulge in that flirtation. Just to see what it was like.

  After all, what harm could it do?

  So he thought it a shame she slept alone?

  Tossing back a lock of her curly hair, she rested her elbow on the bar and leaned a fraction closer to him. Her voice came out shockingly sexy, even to her ears. “Well, the night is young.”

  ***

  James Everly stared in surprise at the dark-haired beauty in front of him. She was the last thing he’d expected to find when he’d come into this bar. While he didn’t drink enough to ever be considered a regular, he occasionally dropped in after work to unwind from the day’s stresses.

  Running a publishing company was hard work. The fact that Everly Publications was a family business made it both harder and easier. One of the benefits was that he answered to no one other than his older brother and CEO, Andrew, and the board of directors. Unfortunately, that also meant he had the responsibility of ensuring everything went well. Like with tomorrow’s meeting.

  The future of their company rode on tomorrow’s outcome. Andrew was knee deep in meetings with members of the board, and had entrusted this matter to him. He was relying on him to succeed.

  James couldn’t let his big brother down.

  Damn, that’s a big load to carry.

  It was that very anxiety that had led him straight here once he’d left the office, and he’d spotted her the moment he’d stepped toward the bar. The honey-skinned beauty had a mass of dark, untamed curls springing down her back, and she didn’t appear to be wearing a stitch of makeup. She had the unassuming posture of someone who had no clue how pretty she was, and that, in and of itself, was sexy as hell.

  She wasn’t his usual type. Normally he went for statuesque brunettes who exuded elegance and style. As the wealthy son of a publishing magnate, that was the world he lived in. But something about this woman had struck him like a punch to the gut.

  Okay, to be honest, it had been a bit lower than that.

  Just seeing her sitting on that barstool, with those dark jeans hugging the curves of her generous ass, had made him hard. She’d chugged her beer down like she didn’t have a care, and exuded a sort of assuredness he rarely saw in women who frequented bars alone. At first he’d mistaken it for confidence, but now he was beginning to see she really didn’t expect to be hit on.

  Surely it had happened to her before. The woman was a sexy, curvy little thing. But there was no mistaking the shock on her face when he’d uttered that inane comment about her sleeping alone.

  Smooth move that was, dumbass.

  He could only blame his crassness on the fact that it was his dick doing the thinking.

  Yet, much as he cursed his total lack of class, here she was, leaning toward him and responding in a way that made him grow even harder.

  James shook his head and tried to concentrate on their conversation. Hell, she’d all but insinuated that she might be willing to take him back to her hotel with her. That certainly wasn’t something he normally did, but for this little beauty, he was more than willing to make an exception.

  He echoed her movement, leaning forward on his barstool until her face was mere inches from his.

  Her dark eyes shimmered in anticipation, and her breath hitched just the slightest.

  “Have you been upstairs?”

  She blinked and sat back on her stool. “Up-upstairs?”

  He nodded and signaled to the bartender that he’d be going upstairs, then rose to his feet and held out a hand.

  Lyssa let out a nervous laugh as she placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her up off the barstoo
l. “You’re not going to take me somewhere and murder me, are you?”

  Laughter tumbled from his lips. He schooled his face into a half grin. “Now that would be a waste, wouldn’t it?”

  A soft blush spread on her cheeks and, taking his cue, she turned to grab her glass off the countertop.

  He placed a hand to her back to lead her through the crowd. The heat of her body warmed his palm through her lightweight jacket, bringing with it tendrils of awareness. What did she smell like? He was banking on something delicious, like vanilla.

  Maybe if he were lucky he’d get to find out before the night was through.

  Hyper-aware of Lyssa’s proximity, James led her to an elevator nestled into one corner of the bar. A bouncer stood in front of it, and he must have remembered James from his prior visits because he took one look at them and turned to press the button. The door opened almost immediately, and James murmured a thank you to the bouncer when he stepped aside to let them pass.

  “I had no idea this elevator was here,” Lyssa said as the doors began to slide shut.

  “Most people don’t notice it. It’s not commonly used.”

  The upstairs was reserved for patrons like him who didn’t mind paying three times the normal price on drinks in order to take advantage of the view.

  James pressed the “R” button and when he turned back to face Lyssa, she was busy studying the posters advertising various local bands plastered on the walls. He took a few steps toward her, easily traversing most of the distance in the small elevator, and her spine went rigid.

  Facing him, she gave him a tremulous smile. “So, what’s up there?”

  The elevator came to a stop and dinged open.

  “Come see.” He stepped out and waited on the other side for her.

  When she hesitated, he feared for one anxious moment that she was going to chicken out. But she finally stepped across the threshold.

  Her lips curved into a curious little smile and she looked here and there, as if memorizing her surroundings. Something about that was utterly adorable.