Simply Scandalous (Simply Series Book 2) by Carly Phillips (non fiction books to read .TXT) 📗

Simply Scandalous

THE SIMPLY SERIES

BOOK 2

NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR

Carly Phillips

Copyright © Karen Drogin, CP Publishing 2021

Kindle Edition

Cover Photo: Wander Aguiar

Cover Design: Maria @steamydesigns

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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

About the Book

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

About Simply Sensual

About the Author

SIMPLY SCANDALOUS

He runs in high society circles… and he’s running circles around her heart.

In retrospect, it was all Gran’s fault.

Logan Montgomery has found his niche as an assistant district attorney. But Gran just revealed some worrying intel—dear old Dad and his political cronies are about to maneuver him into running for mayor.

But Gran has a plan. A pre-emptive strike involving a pretty blonde caterer with supple curves—and a family history literally dripping with scandal. There’s just one flaw in his grandmother’s scheme: Logan’s not a player. And there’s a delicious spark of attraction that makes him want to try for something special with Catherine Luck.

It’s a mystery to Catherine why Logan, who sits at the very top of the social ladder, would even look twice at someone like her. Maybe he has a thing for disgraced, overworked caterers. But his gentle concern, delivered in that velvety chocolate voice, can’t be real, and Cat knows better than to mix business with pleasure.

Raw desire and genuine affection unexpectedly tip them into forbidden territory—love. Until Catherine gets a stark reminder that the Montgomerys never do anything without an ulterior motive.

Which means Catherine’s luck in love is about to run out …

Chapter One

“Target at one o’clock.”

Logan Montgomery listened to his eighty-year-old grandmother and groaned. “You’ve been watching James Bond again, Gran.”

“Just Sean Connery. There’s nothing wrong with Daniel Craig, mind you. I wouldn’t kick him out of my bed.”

“Gran!” Startled, Logan shot a glance at his grandmother.

An impish gleam lit her knowing gaze. She’d learned to use shock value to her advantage, he thought wryly. “I think that’s enough.”

“You never used to be a prude.”

He stifled a laugh and chose to warn the irrepressible older woman instead. “And you never used to go so far. Better watch yourself.”

The white-haired woman gave an unrefined, unladylike snort. “If you aren’t careful, you’ll end up a stuffed shirt like your father.”

“With your influence? Not a chance.” He drank from a glass of hundred-dollar champagne, tasting bubbles and little else. Damn waste of money. A cold beer would taste a hell of a lot better, especially on such an unusually hot and balmy May afternoon. “So, tell me why you summoned me to the annual Garden Gala.”

He’d hoped he could ignore the formal invitation, hand-delivered to his house as it had been hand-delivered to dozens of others. Although the Garden Gala was as much a part of Montgomery tradition as baseball was a part of spring, Logan didn’t feel the same sense of anticipation for this event. His grandmother, Emma, was a different story. He adored her.

“Because of her.” His grandmother waved a wrinkled finger in front of his eyes. “Over there by the dogwood tree. She catered this whole party herself. Talent personified.”

Logan narrowed his gaze. He couldn’t see much besides the overwhelming sea of floral prints on the female guests and the stark black-and-white uniforms worn by the help. “All I see is a bunch of penguins,” Logan muttered.

“I believe servers are the proper term,” Emma said.

“Couldn’t you get the judge to relax the dress code, for God’s sake? These poor people look like they’re attending a formal wedding, not serving cocktails on a spring day.”

He liked parties as much as the next guy, but this uptight excuse for a gathering wasn’t the way he’d choose to spend a Saturday afternoon.

“Your father has his standards,” Emma said in her haughtiest voice, in imitation of her son, Judge Montgomery. “He believes the help should dress as such. Ridiculous,” she muttered. “The man ought to come into the twenty-first century. Anyway, enough about Edgar for now. Look around. What else do you see?”

Logan took two steps to the right so he could see around a ridiculous-looking parasol held by one of his mother’s friends to protect her skin from the nonexistent sun and impending rain.

“Well?” A bony elbow nudged Logan in the ribs.

He looked once more and was rewarded by what he saw at the elaborate bar set up in front of the pool house on the perfectly manicured lawn—a delectable-looking creature in uniform. She stepped around the bar and into full view. The clouds had begun rolling in, but this woman radiated pure sunshine. Not even the standard server uniform looked ordinary on her supple curves.

She reached over to clean the bar of used glasses, and Logan was treated to a backside view that was just as enticing. Black sneakers, obviously worn for comfort, and black tights with a vertical seam ran up the length of her well-toned legs. As she reached forward to sweep the top of the bar with a damp rag, the hem on her black miniskirt inched higher. He stepped closer in time to catch a hint of lace peeking beneath the black hem. Interest replaced curiosity and the temperature outside hitched up a notch. So did strategic body parts. He stuck one finger inside the constricting collar of his white shirt, giving himself some breathing room.

She rose to her full height, which wasn’t much. Petite, with blond hair pinned on top of her head, she couldn’t have been more than five foot three. Considering he had one sister who had traipsed more friends through the house than he could count on both hands, Logan considered himself an expert on all things female.

And this female intrigued him.