How to Catch a Bad Boy Read online

  “I want you to say it.”

  Dragging his knuckles over her flushed cheek, he lowered his head until his lips hung a whisper above hers.

  “Say what?” The mutinous line of her mouth wavered even as her muscles softened, bringing her pliant curves into sizzling contact with his hard planes.

  “Say that you were glad I was here to take care of you today. How having me around was a good thing.”

  “I could’ve handled things just fine.” She let loose a shocked gasp as he slid his palm up her spine, wrapped his fingers around her ponytail and gave it a sharp tug. “But I’m glad you were here so I didn’t have to.”

  “Better.”

  The uneven cadence of her breath matched his as he covered her mouth in a deep kiss meant to remind her how they’d once burned up the nights.

  * * *

  How to Catch a Bad Boy by Cat Schield is part of the Texas Cattleman’s Club: Heir Apparent series.

  Dear Reader,

  Every time I get to participate in a Texas Cattleman’s Club series, it’s so exciting. This book was no exception. I have never had as much fun writing a bad-boy story as I did with How to Catch a Bad Boy. Former professional polo player Asher Davidson Edmond may be many things—irresponsible, egotistical, sexy as sin—but he’s no thief. Unfortunately, with all the evidence pointing to his guilt, he needs someone to believe in him. Too bad the one woman who could help him is the one he let get away five years earlier.

  I love writing a strong woman of color, and Lani Li is a badass private investigator with something to prove and a padlock on her heart when it comes to her former lover. Too bad Asher’s as sexy and charming as ever. These two were complete opposites of each other, and making them have to work together to figure out the mystery of the missing money was such fun.

  I hope you enjoy this enemies-to-lovers bad-boy reunion romance.

  Happy reading!

  Cat Schield

  Cat Schield

  How to Catch a Bad Boy

  Cat Schield is an award-winning author of contemporary romances for Harlequin Desire. She likes her heroines spunky and her heroes swoonworthy. While her jet-setting characters live all over the globe, Cat makes her home in Minnesota with her daughter, two opinionated Burmese cats and a goofy Doberman. When she’s not writing or walking dogs, she’s searching for the perfect cocktail or traveling to visit friends and family. Contact her at catschield.com.

  Books by Cat Schield

  Harlequin Desire

  Sweet Tea and Scandal

  Upstairs Downstairs Baby

  Substitute Seduction

  Revenge with Benefits

  Seductive Secrets

  Seduction, Southern Style

  Texas Cattleman’s Club: Heir Apparent

  How to Catch a Bad Boy

  Visit her Author Profile page at Harlequin.com, or catschield.com, for more titles!

  You can also find Cat Schield on Facebook, along with other Harlequin Desire authors, at Facebook.com/HarlequinDesireAuthors!

  To Bri and Ella.

  Thanks for all your support so

  I could get this book written.

  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

  Excerpt from Foolish Hearts by Synithia Williams

  Excerpt Secrets of a One Night Stand by Naima Simone

  One

  Asher Davidson Edmond lay on the jail cell’s hard bunk, arm thrown over his eyes to block out the gray concrete walls and dingy ceiling. How the hell had he gotten here? Correction: he knew how. A police escort in the back of a cruiser. As to the chain of events that had landed him in this mess, he’d been completely blindsided.

  Despite some of the risky behavior he’d demonstrated in his thirty-one years, he’d never imagined landing behind bars because of something he hadn’t done. And he definitely hadn’t been embezzling funds from the festival. He might’ve bent or even broken a law or two in his youth, but that had been petty stuff. Stealing for his own gain was the last thing he’d do.

  “Hey, rich boy.”

  The mocking voice belonged to the blocky, muscular cop who’d escorted him back to his dank, windowless cell after his arraignment. Asher’s molars ground together at the man’s taunt. Apparently, he’d gone to high school with Deputy Vesta’s younger sister and hadn’t treated the girl too well. He had to take Vesta’s word for it because he didn’t remember those teenage years all that well. Something about laughing at her when she’d asked him to prom... Not one of his finest moments, obviously.

  “Yeah?” Asher responded, not bothering to move. Quashing his jittery emotions, he packed as much sardonic boredom as he could into the single word, all too aware that he wasn’t doing himself any favors by acting like a jerk. Still, nothing would change Vesta’s rock-solid perceptions of him, and after years of coping with his adopted father’s nonstop disapproval, he reflexively retreated into behaving like a sullen, entitled prick.

  “You’ve got a visitor.”

  Hope exploded in Asher’s chest.

  Had Ross and Gina changed their mind about his guilt after failing to support him at yesterday’s bail hearing? While his siblings’ abandonment had aroused panic and uncertainty, Asher had known better than to expect his adopted father to show. Nor did he expect Rusty Edmond had come to see him now, unless to drive home his acute regret for adopting his second wife’s son.

  Asher had his own complaints on that score. Why had Rusty bothered with a legal connection when he’d never truly embraced Asher as one of his own? Or maybe he had—the man demonstrated little affection toward either of his biological children and between criticizing Ross’s abilities and dismissing Gina’s talents, none of the Edmond offspring had a great relationship with him.

  That hadn’t stopped Asher from spending his teen years fighting an uphill battle to win Rusty’s affection though. And when all his efforts had failed, Asher had begun acting out. If he couldn’t win his stepfather’s approval, then he figured he would become truly worthy of Rusty’s disdain.

  Yet as difficult as his relationship with his stepfather was, Asher’s connection with his stepsiblings was as close as if they were blood relations. Ross had been twelve and Gina ten when fifteen-year-old Asher had come to live with them. He’d enjoyed playing big brother to the pair and the trio had bonded immediately. Even though Rusty had only been married to his mother for three years, they’d been formative ones for all three kids and they’d remained tight even after Rusty and Stephanie divorced and Asher headed off to college.

  Which was why the silence from the Edmond siblings was so ominous. Since his arraignment, he’d consoled himself by speculating that Rusty—intent on teaching his adopted son a lesson—had barred Ross and Gina from showing up in court. But as the hours stretched out and he’d not heard from either of his siblings, Asher started to worry that they believed he was guilty and had turned their backs on him.

  Unrelenting panic swelled in his chest. At the arraignment he’d learned the charges against him were worse than he’d been led to believe. It wasn’t just the theft of the funds—that could’ve been handled locally—but the money had disappeared from the banks, sent by wire transfer and that meant the feds were involved. Even if he�
�d wanted to, Rusty couldn’t use this as a teachable moment for his adopted son and make the charges go away.

  Asher was in deep.

  With his bank accounts frozen thanks to the embezzlement charges, he hadn’t been able to post his own bail. Naturally he’d hoped that his family would believe that he’d never do anything like what he’d been accused of and help him out. But as the hours passed, his despair had grown. Only now it appeared as if he’d been worried for nothing. One or both of them had decided to help him out.

  “You’ve got five minutes,” Deputy Vesta said, his tone brisk.

  Asher sat up and blinked in the sudden brightness. As his eyes adjusted, he focused on the person standing on the other side of the bars. The individual was neither his tall, lanky brother nor his stylish sister, but a petite woman in figure-hugging jeans and high-heeled boots, her long black hair slicked back into a neat, low ponytail. Probably another fed come to pick at him about the missing funds.

  But then she stepped closer and he glimpsed her features.

  “Lani Li?”

  He could barely breathe as recognition landed a sharp jab to his gut. Then he rallied and pushed to his feet, fighting to remain upright as his emotions executed a wild swing between delight and confusion at her appearance. Had she heard about his plight and come rushing to help him? His heart hoped so. It thumped hard against his ribs as he processed his outstanding luck.

  However his euphoria dissipated as he noticed the glower in her mink-brown eyes. Spots of color flared in her cheeks, marring the uniform perfection of her pale skin. She’d compressed her luscious lips into a flat line that broadcast her disdain and the only thing keeping her arched brows from touching was the bottomless vertical indent between them. To say she looked less than pleased to see him was an understatement, but putting aside his desperate need for rescue, her arrival flooded his mind with vivid, racy memories.

  Until she spoke...

  “Asher.” Her tone was all business.

  “What a surprise,” he murmured, advancing toward her, drawn like a bee to a flower.

  Her scent hit him before he wrapped his hands around the bars and leaned in. She smelled like warm vanilla and spicy cinnamon, all lush sweetness and mouthwatering delectability. He remembered burying his nose in her hair and drawing her unique perfume into his lungs. How she’d tasted like sweat and sunshine as they’d made love beside a raging river, crushing pine needles beneath their straining bodies and releasing the astringent scent. The simple act of breathing her in now slowed his heart rate and soothed his restless nature.

  “What’s it been?” he continued blithely. “Five years?”

  She gave a curt nod. “About that.”

  “Long time.”

  “Yep.” Lani narrowed her eyes and scanned him from the top of his close-cropped brown hair to the toes of his brown Berluti loafers. “You look like hell.”

  “Well,” he drawled with a lazy shrug while his brain scrambled to process that she was standing there. “I have been locked up in here for a day and a half, so...”

  While finishing the sentence, he trailed his gaze over her, following the buttons of the white button-down shirt she wore beneath a practical navy blazer, over the swell of firm breasts and the flat plains of a taut abdomen to the waistband of the dark denim. He knew that body. He adored that body. Curves in all the right places. Honed muscle beneath silky soft skin. He’d spent long hours guiding his lips and hands over every inch, learning what made her shiver, moan and whimper.

  “You look really great,” he drawled, recalling that time he’d nipped the firm mound of her perfect butt and made her squeak in surprise. “So, what brings you by?” Asher posed the question lazily, chatting her up as if they’d bumped into each other at a barbecue rather than a jail cell. One corner of his mouth kicked up as he delivered a smoky look her way.

  “I’ve gotta say, you’re the last person I expected to see here.”

  “I’m on a case,” she told him.

  “I’m intrigued. Care to tell me about it?”

  “I’m investigating the theft of the festival funds.”

  “Who do you think did it?” he asked.

  She cocked her head and shot him an incredulous look. “You.”

  “So, you’re on the Asher-is-a-thief train.” He nodded, unsurprised by her answer. “I thought you might believe I was innocent.”

  With a long-suffering sigh, she swept aside her blazer and set her hand on her hip. The gesture exposed an empty holster clipped to her belt. He stared at the telltale harness as lust blindsided him. The thrill wasn’t entirely sexual. Since he was a kid, Asher had lived for the next great adventure and had spent most of his twenties chasing anything exciting or dangerous. The thought of Lani packing heat turned him on in so many ways. His skin tingled and the tips of his fingers began to buzz with the need to touch her.

  “Looks like you became a special agent after all,” he said, his gaze drifting up her torso, pausing momentarily to revisit the enticing curve of her breasts before making contact with her hostile glare. “What are you? FBI? ATF? DEA?”

  Her sooty eyelashes flickered. “I’m a private investigator.”

  “You don’t say.” This intrigued him.

  Lani had been on the cusp of attending graduate school when they met five years earlier and planned to study criminal justice. She’d graduated college with a degree in sociology and a passion to make the world a better place. Despising injustice, she’d decided a career in federal law enforcement would offer her the best chance to make a difference.

  “Well,” he continued, “get me out of here and you can do all the private investigating you want.”

  Even before her eyes flared in outrage, Asher regretted flirting with her. She was the only person who’d come to see him and he was treating her like some random chick he’d met at a bar instead of the dazzling prize he’d foolishly let slip through his fingers.

  Her full lips, bare of lipstick, puckered as she let an exasperated breath escape. As if they’d last kissed yesterday instead of five years ago, he recalled how her lip balm had tasted like strawberries. How her long silky hair had tickled the back of his hands as he’d drawn her close. From their first kiss to their final heartbreaking embrace, he hadn’t been able to get enough of her.

  “You’re still the same frat boy, aren’t you?” Her words splashed icy water on his libido.

  “I’m not.”

  The nickname stung the way it had five years earlier. They’d met while she’d been employed as a waitress on Appaloosa Island in Trinity Bay off the coast of Texas. He’d been lazing around before what had turned out to be his final season playing professional polo. Intrigued as much by her brilliant wit as her killer body and gorgeous face, every time he ate at the resort’s restaurant, he’d made sure to be seated in her section.

  To his chagrin, nothing about him had charmed her. Unimpressed with the giant tips he’d left her, she’d sized him up as idle and aimless and dubbed him “frat boy” even though he’d left college behind half a decade earlier.

  “These days I’m the vice president of operations in charge of The Edmond Organization’s Bakken business.” He puffed out his chest, wondering if he could impress upon her that he was serious and successful, someone who had a plan and stuck to it instead of roaming around the world chasing one polo season after another.

  Although his practiced tone was one of pompous confidence, it didn’t reflect his true feelings. In fact he hated the endless dull details demanding his attention and made the barest effort to manage his team. He’d been with the company for a little over nearly two years, bullied into taking the position because Rusty was tired of subsidizing Asher’s “unproductive lifestyle” and threatened to cut off all support unless Asher did something to earn the money.

  “Yet you’re barely ever in the office,” she said, her
skeptical expression indicating she’d already heard an earful about him.

  “I’ve been busy with the Soiree on the Bay festival.” An exaggeration. He’d had little to do with the practical aspects of organizing the luxury food, art and wine extravaganza.

  “Yes,” she murmured dryly, “that seems to have led to your current state of incarceration.”

  As much as Asher wanted to argue, what could he say? The steel bars blocking him from freedom said it all. Nor could he point to anything he’d done since they’d parted ways that would meet with her stringent standards. She was one of the most focused and task-oriented people he’d ever met. From the beginning she made it perfectly clear that his lack of ambition frustrated her. In every way that mattered, they were opposites. Yet he was drawn to her by an undeniable hunger that proved as distracting as it was intoxicating.

  While it might have been her striking looks that first attracted him to her, what inflamed his pursuit in the face of one rejection after another was her courage, unflinching strength of character and no-nonsense outlook.

  And he loved a challenge.

  Her aloofness fired his determination to discover the woman hiding behind her prickly exterior. Yet as satisfying as the chase had been, catching her had surpassed his wildest dreams. Nor had his attention shifted to his next conquest after getting her into bed. She’d proved to be more exhilarating than any woman he’d ever known. And through the course of their whirlwind affair, she’d had a profound effect on him.

  During those blissful summer months, he’d become someone...different. Someone who stopped joyriding through life and started to question his purpose. Someone who considered another’s hopes and desires might be just as important as his own.

  Yet it couldn’t last. They were heading down two completely different paths. She was off to graduate school in the fall, destined to make something of herself. Faced with losing her, he’d relapsed into the aimless, restless, the unreliable “frat boy” she’d christened him. And often in the intervening years, he’d wondered what would’ve happened if he’d been a better man.