"Opposites Attract in this Heart Pumping Page Turner"
Reviewed by Tonya Callihan
Posted September 14, 2010
Romance Contemporary
When you hear opposites attract...you better believe it
applies to Ethan and Lily. Ethan is the type of guy who has
a routine, every day it is-- up before dawn, run, come
home, shower, go to work, come home, workout, go to bed.
That's his life, boring as it may be. As an Air Force pilot
and now instructor, his life has always revolved around a
routine. A routine makes it easier for him to forget his
past and block out his feelings. At first, Ethan saw Lily as
a way to break his dry spell; someone to have fun with until
her insurance paid and she could find a new establishment
and place to live. He was doing his duty and, in the
meantime, having fun with a beautiful woman. His problems--
she was half his age, he couldn't love anyone, and once
their relationship sizzled he would find an ideal sex
partner. Not someone completely different than him. But Lily
brought out the best in him, and a side he never knew
he possessed. Lily is spontaneous; a gypsy who reads aura's,
practices yoga naked, and feels it is her destiny to help a
man unblock his chakras before moving on to help someone
else. Ethan Grady walked into her shop as someone who needed
her help. When Ethan burned her place down leaving Lily no
where to go but to his home, having to move in with him,
Lilly saw the perfect opportunity to work on this man. She
would loosen him up and teach him to have fun, so that he
may enjoy life. When her relationship with Ethan comes to an
end and he volunteers for a training mission in Iraq, Lily
has a bad feeling. When she warns him about it, he of course
doesn't believe her and goes anyway. This story was refreshing for me, the heroine wasn't the
normal heroine you would read in a Harlequin Blaze novel,
and I don't mean that in a bad way. The story itself wasn't
typical, at least to me as an avid reader of this line of
books. Jillian Burns is an author who can take an
ordinary, everyday story and make it her own.
She has the ability and talent to put her special
ingredients into the mix and make a story everyone will
love. Burns fans will love this beautifully woven story and
new readers will become life long fans!
SUMMARY
Lieutenant Colonel Ethan Grady is having his very first
massage with a rather eccentric but smokin'-hot redhead,
Lily Langford. But her touch isn't so much calming as it is
very distracting. When he accidentally sets Lily's business
and home ablaze, Ethan can't tell if the smoldering is from
the fire…or their attraction to each other! But now Ethan's condo is invaded by the free-spirited Lily,
who's convinced that he's the one who really needs to be
rescued. And Lily's methods? Well, they're not so
traditional. Still, Ethan can't remember having his chakras
aligned so…er, intensely. But will this be rescue—or
retreat?
ExcerptHow the heck had he gotten himself into this situation?
Lieutenant Colonel Ethan Grady clenched his fists as he
studied the chaotic mess inside the herb shop located a few
blocks off the Vegas strip.
He’d lost a bet, that’s how.
And now he had to get a massage from some old gypsy lady
who kept voo-doo doodads hanging from the ceiling and
bottles of smelly herbs and oils crammed on wall-to-wall
shelves. Whatever space wasn’t filled with bottles held
candles or plants or...cats.
Ethan looked down at a long-haired black cat winding its
way around his leg, and his fists tightened. Now he’d have
cat fur on his BDUs.
"Well, buddy," his fellow airman, Captain Mitch McCabe,
shot him an evil grin as he slapped him on the back. "Time
to pay up."
"And you never know," his buddy Jackson, who’d won the
bet, added. "You may like it so much, you become a
regular."
Ethan scowled. Not in this lifetime.
He never gambled. But ever since he’d learned of
Jackson’s close call with death something inside Ethan
just...felt different. Besides, he’d wanted Jackson’s fifty-
year-old bottle of Scotch. And the bet had looked like a
sure thing. Who’d have thought the Keno girl would give in
to Jackson when she’d turned down every other airman within
a hundred mile radius?
Women were illogical.
"Namaste," a high, sweet voice floated to him from the
back of the small shop. "I’m Lily."
Ethan shook his boot in an attempt to dissuade the black
cat from circling his ankles and looked up into huge
Caribbean blue eyes as the girl straightened from a bow,
her palms still together. Untamed strawberry curls framed a
pixie face with an upturned nose. Tiny dimples added the
perfect touch to a creamy complexion as she flashed a ready
smile from a beautiful mouth.
The neon sign out front read Lily’s. But this was no old
gypsy.
The redhead’s smile faded and her curved brows crinkled
into a frown. She tilted her head and moved closer. Too
close. "Oh, my." For a minute Ethan thought she was going
to cry. "Your aura is black. So dull, so...heavy." Her arms
rose and she held up her hands, one over his stomach, and
the other over his crotch.
She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them to stare
into his again. "Several of your Chakras are completely
blocked. This makes your Chi rough, and chaotic." Her eyes
closed and her head fell back as she flattened her palms
against his chest and moved them down and around.
The instant she touched him his body sizzled and
stirred. Ethan grabbed her wrists, removed her hands, and
stepped back.
McCabe chuckled and exchanged stupid grins with
Jackson. "Sounds like Grady’s got himself a real unhealthy
Chi, there. Lily, maybe you can unstick that poker up his a-
-"
"Shut it, McCabe." Ethan threw him his fiercest glare.
Jackson stepped between them. "Our friend here has an
appointment for a massage."
The hippie woman swept her attention back to Ethan, her
eyes even wider. "Another Air Force pilot. So that’s what
the cards were trying to tell me."
Cards? Enough of this new age crap. "Let’s get this over
with."
"Lieutenant Colonel...Grady, isn’t it?" She put her
finger to her tiny chin and began studying his body as she
circled him.
Ethan purposely unclenched his fists and tried to relax.
But he couldn’t do it with her gaze burning into him. Then
he felt her hands touch his shoulders and he flinched. She
made a Hmm sound and then crooned an Oooh as her hands
moved down his arms. Ethan stifled a shiver.
"This will take more than a massage." Her serious tone
was at odds with her soft high voice.
"Oh, he wants to take Yoga lessons too," Jackson
supplied.
"Don’t you have somewhere to be?" Ethan growled.
"All right. All right. I think you’re in good hands."
Jackson turned to the herb lady. "Take care of our buddy,
Ma’am."
"Do you have a girlfriend, Lieutenant Colonel? A lover?"
She moved around in front of him and narrowed her eyes.
"He’s as free as a cocktail in a casino, sweetheart,"
McCabe said, and winked at her.
"You’re done here, McCabe." Ethan crossed his arms and
jerked his head toward the exit.
The redhead dimpled at McCabe and then gestured to a
doorway covered by hanging beads. "This way, Lieutenant
Colonel."
Ethan waited until the shop door had shut behind Jackson
and McCabe, and then followed the woman through the
doorway, careful to hold the strings of beads out of his
way.
He stopped short inside the back room. It was cramped
and lit only with more burning candles. His nose was
assaulted by a sweet yet spicy scent. A red and yellow tie-
dyed scarf was draped over the only window. A miniature
fountain surrounded by river rocks and plants gurgled in
the corner. But the main feature in the center of the room
was the massage table. He’d rather face combat than lay on
that thing.
"Just strip down to whatever you’re comfortable in." She
turned to leave the room.
"I’m comfortable now."
She laughed, a light tinkling sound, and swiveled to
smile at him. Her brows rose with skepticism and he
clenched his teeth together.
"Why is that funny?"
"I don’t think you’ve been ‘comfortable’ in years.
Perhaps decades."
"Look, you don’t know me, so you can stop with the whoo-
whoo weirdo act and just get on with it."
She blinked up at him, her full lips pouting, and he
felt as if he’d just kicked a puppy.
"I guess I shouldn’t be surprised at your rudeness with
an aura like that," she said, shaking her head. "Who
wouldn’t be grumpy with their Chi in such a state? I need
to find just the right aroma for you." She spun and left
the room.
Ethan could hear her light voice out front chattering,
he assumed, to herself. "Let’s see...patchouli? No, no. Too
stimulating. Maybe Lavender. No, too weak. Something
powerful, yet relaxing."
Rude? Grumpy? She was right. He normally prided himself
on his even-keeled nature. And his honorable treatment of
females. He’d let this whole situation get under his skin.
Stop being such a wuss. He’d spent more than half his
life in the Air Force. He’d faced down enemy bombers in the
first Gulf war at the tender age of twenty-three. Witnessed
kids younger than him shot or blown up in land mines.
He drew in a deep breath and with it, regained control.
This would be over in an hour, tops. He could endure
anything for an hour. Then he’d carry on with life as usual.
"Oh, you’re still dressed."
Ethan blinked at the girl in her flowing rainbow-striped
robe. She’d tied back her hair and held a small strange-
shaped bottle filled with clear liquid. "Have you changed
your mind?"
"No."
She put her finger to her chin again, staring at
him. "Have you ever had a massage before?"
"No."
"Never? Oooh, a massage virgin." She grinned and her
dimples teased his libido. And for some weird reason, so
did the word virgin. "You’re going to love it," she
continued, clasping the bottle to her stomach with both
hands. "It’s so relaxing and I can tell by the set of your
shoulders how tense you are. I’ve only had one other
massage virgin, and she was--"
Ethan stopped listening. No, he wasn’t going to love it.
He didn’t want to be touched. He didn’t like physical
contact. Even when— He thought back to the arrangement he’d
had with a lady he’d met in town. Every Friday night he’d
pick her up, take her to dinner, then go back to her place.
Excessive touching had never been part of the deal. She
hadn’t voiced any objections. Not in two years. But then
she had cancelled their standing date without a qualm.
"Okay then, remove everything except your undershorts,
get on the table, and lay on your stomach." She peeled the
robe off her shoulders, spun and hung it on the tail of a
brass kitty cat wall hook.
Ethan barely contained his slack-jawed reaction. The
robe had hidden a trim figure in cut-off shorts and a tight
tank top. Gorgeous legs. Tiny waist. Slim hips. Good-
sized...she wasn’t wearing a bra.
And he had to strip down to his skivvies.
She set the bottle on the windowsill and headed out
front again. "Call me when you’re ready."
Heat surged through his body. Every part. Dragging his
thoughts away from the woman’s breasts, Ethan pictured the
icy winter days of his childhood in South Dakota. He sat on
a chair by the door to pull off his boots and socks and
envisioned himself at Thule air base in Greenland staring
at the Arctic tundra. As he unbuttoned his uniform shirt,
pulled it off one sleeve at a time, and folded it
carefully, he remembered the freezing snow on the Afghani
mountaintops. Closing his eyes, he unzipped his camo pants,
stepped out of them and folded them just as neatly.
"Are you ready back there, Lieutenant Colonel Grady?"
Ethan almost snarled. She’d broken his concentration. He
snapped off his undershirt, wrapped a towel over his boxer
briefs, and lay down on his stomach.
Beads tinkled as she entered the room. "Close your eyes
and take a deep, slow breath."
Ethan gritted his teeth and complied.
With a click the sound of waves crashing against a shore
filled the room. "To achieve Zen, one must be in total
peace with oneself and nature." Her warm, oil-soaked hands
landed on his shoulders, and he instantly stiffened. But
then she began a soft caress along either side of his neck
while her thumbs slid up his nape into his hairline.
He inhaled again and the light scent of coconut aroused
his senses. The arctic was gone, replaced with a balmy
beach, palm trees, and a bikini-clad— Her. The wacky herb
lady. Lily.
He was picturing her in a bikini. In an instant his make-
believe self had joined her on the sand and his hands were
gripping her waist, then sliding up— Discipline, Grady.
"Whoa. What just happened? You were just starting to
relax when your shoulders tightened up again." Her fingers
massaged his temples in slow circles, then combed through
his hair to knead his scalp. "Empty your mind of thoughts,"
she said in a low voice. "Negative thoughts create negative
energy. Breathe in slowly, deeply. Then release impurities
as you exhale."
Since he was here and committed to this, he might as
well try to gain some benefit from it. He blew out the
breath he’d been holding and tried to concentrate on
fighting his intense aversion to physical contact.
"That’s it, Ethan. Very good." The praise lightened
something inside him. Her voice seemed to be whispering
right into his soul, its soft entreaty arousing.
With his eyes closed his other senses sharpened. The
evocative scent of coconut. The repetitive waves crashing
and retreating. The touch of skin against skin. Her hands
worked their way down his spine; stroking, rubbing, deep
into his flesh. As she reached the small of his back, he
felt her strokes change from the broader heel of her hand
to pointed knuckles making quick circles.
Her knuckles worked their way up his back again and then
she started massaging his shoulders, and down his arms, her
fingers kneading the muscles. All the while she
talked. "Feel your heart rate slow," she crooned. "Listen
to each breath you take."
Her voice soothed him as she performed miracles on his
feet and calves, spreading oil as she caressed up his
thighs. Maybe there was something to this massage thing. He
was feeling more relaxed...
Before he knew it, she had him turn over. When he raised
his arms to clasp his hands beneath his head he brushed
against her breast. The breast that wasn’t covered with a
bra. The breast that was the most perfect shape. And whose
nipple had hardened to a bead against his forearm. Suddenly
he realized he’d lost control of his arousal.
She froze. Time seemed suspended. All he could hear was
her breathing, quick and ragged. He closed his eyes, barely
stifling a groan. To his horror his dick hardened even more.
No way she didn’t notice his wood.
Surely this was a common physical reaction to a massage.
Wasn’t it?
Her hands resumed their caressing, working their way
slowly down to his stomach and continued on to the edge of
the towel. When she moved to his thighs, she brushed
against his out of control erection and he jack-knifed up
and bolted off the table. But he lost his footing, stumbled
into the windowsill and knocked over several candles.
Flames instantly ignited the silk scarf.
Staring in disbelief, he turned to the woman. "Go get
your fire extinguisher."
She blinked at the spreading flames. "I’m not sure... I
don’t think I have one."
"Don’t have one? How could you—" Looking around, he
grabbed the fountain and splashed water onto the fire,
which had reached the shelves full of bottles of—crap, of
oil. The flames leapt higher. The cord from the fountain
knocked over several bottles when he yanked it from the
wall, and the water pushed the flames closer to the spilled
oil. Great.
The fire popped and crackled. Smoke swirled thick and
black in the tiny room. His eyes stung. He coughed and
turned to tell Lily to get out and call 911, but she’d
disappeared. Good. She was ahead of him. He probably only
had time for one more chance before the fire engulfed the
room, if not the entire premises.
Think Grady! Oil fires. Baking soda. He needed something
to smother it with. Of course. He headed back to the front
room, grabbed up the largest potted plant, ripped out the
plant and tried to get back in to dump the damp soil on the
flames, but the fire had all but consumed the room.
One small planter of soil wouldn’t even slow it down.
As he ran for the front door Lily appeared in his path
carrying the black cat, a tan and white guinea pig, and a
bird cage containing a plump white cockatoo. She thrust
them into his arms, her face soot-coated but
determined. "Take Ingrid, Scarlett, and Bette. I’ve got to
get Humphrey and Rhett." She spun on her heel, heading back
into the fog of smoke.
What the hell?
"Wait." He set the birdcage down, tightened his hold on
the squirming animals, and lunged forward to block her
way. "You’re not going anywhere except out. I’ll get
Humphrey and Rhett." He handed her the cat and the guinea
pig back. "Who are Humphrey and Rhett?"
Her face crumpled even as she coughed. "Humphrey’s my
basset hound. He’s old and almost blind and I couldn’t find
him. He always sleeps in front of the TV, but he wasn’t
there." She pointed to a set of stairs behind the counter
he hadn’t noticed before. "And Rhett’s a big orange tabby.
He won’t come willingly."
"I’ll find them. Now get out of here." More animals? Was
she insane? He took the stairs three at a time and opened
the door into a relatively smoke-free, one-room apartment.
If he was lucky he had maybe two minutes before the fire
burned through the ceiling.
Now, if he were a dog, where would he hide? Crossing the
room in two strides he dropped to his knees beside the bed
and lifted the bedcovers. Sure enough, the stupid mutt was
lying sprawled on his side as if he hadn’t a care in the
world.
Ethan swept the solid lump of dog into his arms, stopped
to grab up an orange, hissing, scratching tabby, and then
bolted down the stairs just as ceiling snapped and a
falling two-by-four cracked across his shoulder blades,
knocking him to his knees. Pain shot down his spine and the
room spun around him.
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