About Last Night

“In,” he said.

“Greenwich,” he told the driver.

And then he pressed a switch to raise the dark partition that separated the front and back seats, pushed up her dress until he could see her red panties through the latticework of her fishnets, and said, “You wicked girl.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Neville.”

Clever man, he did.

Acknowledgments

For my mom, who persists in thinking everything I do is wonderful. I’m lucky to have her in my corner.

With thanks to Faye, for gently encouraging me to rewrite the first draft of this book from scratch and then lavishing me with praise when I did, and to Mom and Dad, Ellen, Jeni, Carrie, Rachel, Gina, Del, and Serena, all of whom read the manuscript and offered criticism and cheerleading.

Sue Grimshaw, Angela Polidoro, and Laura Jorstad at Random House caught all manner of awkward omissions, clunky phrasing, and weirdnesses, for which I’m grateful. Any that are left are probably the result of my stubbornness and certainly should be construed as my own fault.

Thanks, too, to Agent Emily, for her apparently endless supply of chipper confidence, and to Sue, both for the title and for insisting that I rewrite the beginning again. You were right. Again.

About the Author

Photo: © Mark Anderson, STUN Photography

Ruthie Knox figured out how to walk and read at the same time in the second grade, and she hasn’t looked up since. She spent her formative years hiding romance novels in her bedroom closet to avoid the merciless teasing of her brothers and imagining scenarios in which someone who looked remarkably like Daniel Day Lewis recognized her well-hidden sex appeal and rescued her from middle-class midwestern obscurity.

After graduating from college with an English and history double major, she earned a doctorate in modern British history that she’s put to remarkably little use. These days, she writes the sort of contemporary romance in which witty, down-to-earth characters find each other irresistible in their pajamas, though she freely admits this has yet to happen to her. Perhaps she needs more exciting pajamas. Ruthie abhors an epilogue and insists a decent romance requires at least three good sex scenes. You can find her at www.ruthieknox.com.

THE EDITOR’S CORNER

Welcome to Loveswept!

We have a wonderful treat for you next month: DEEP AUTUMN HEAT, the first book in Elisabeth Barrett’s sexy new Star Harbor romance series. In this sparkling and steamy story, a celebrity chef turns up the heat for a local café owner—and things start to sizzle. Featuring the wickedly handsome Grayson brothers, this story will captivate you to the very end. And don’t worry, we have the next Grayson brothers story releasing just two months after DEEP AUTUMN HEAT!

And don’t miss Adrienne Staff’s KEVIN’S STORY and Kristen Kyle’s THE LAST WARRIOR. These enthralling reads are also available next month!

If you love romance … then you’re ready to be Loveswept!

Gina Wachtel

Associate Publisher

P.S. Watch for these terrific Loveswept titles coming soon: In August, we have Sally Goldenbaum’s delectable FOR MEN ONLY, Karen Leabo’s tender CALLIE’S COWBOY, and Linda Cajio’s thrilling JUST ONE LOOK. September is an exciting month with nine Loveswept releases, including the second book in Elisabeth Barrett’s thrilling new series, BLAZE OF WINTER! We also have four terrific stories from Donna Kauffman: LIGHT MY FIRE, SANTERRA’S SIN, DARK KNIGHT, and SILENT WARRIOR, Linda Cajio’s sexy NIGHT MUSIC, Deborah Harmse’s engrossing A MAN TO BELIEVE IN, Sandra Chastain’s exciting ADAM’S OUTLAW, and Fran Baker’s dazzling SAN ANTONIO ROSE. Don’t miss any of these extraordinary reads. I promise that you’ll fall in love and treasure these stories for years to come.…

Read on for excerpts from more Loveswept titles …

Read on for an excerpt from Jessica Scott’s

Because of You

Prologue

Sergeant First Class Shane Garrison knew that life wasn’t fair. But after thirteen years in the army, it still surprised him what a relentless bitch reality could be sometimes. He stood outside the tactical operations cell in the middle of the California desert and studied the legal-sized envelope he held in his hand. Everything out here was supposed to be a training exercise to prepare his men for their upcoming combat tour in Iraq. No one was supposed to get hurt. But they did anyway, and just like in Iraq, the wounded were sent on to the nearest hospital while their buddies were left behind to worry.

Noise raged around him—shouts, the constant crunch of boots on gravel, and the rumbling of the generators that powered the servers, radios, and—most important—the coffeepots that kept the war running at all hours of the day and night. There was no escape for him, not from the noise or from the fact that sometimes, life just sucked. He turned the envelope over in his hands. He didn’t need silence to guess what was inside.

A shadow passed in front of him and Captain Trent Davila heaved himself up onto the hood of one of the command-and-control Humvees next to Shane. By regulation, when Trent had been commissioned as an officer several years earlier, they shouldn’t have remained friends. Relationships were prohibited between officers and enlisted soldiers, but they’d gone through too much together over the years to let something trivial like army regulations dictate the terms of their friendship.

“Any word on Morrell?” Shane finally asked when Trent didn’t speak. The sun slid behind Tiefort Mountain, sending the desert sinking into darkness.