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The websites below are where you can expect to find the book available.
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
iTunes
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Blurb
Jada McLean is about to get married in nine days, when she walks in on her fiancé in a little more than a compromising position. Days later, she’s on a trip that she intends to be relaxing and a prelude to her fresh start, when she runs into the rude, obnoxious, but gorgeous Jonathan Kole.
Jonathan Kole is San Francisco’s newest District Attorney. When he finds himself deeply attracted to a stunning beauty, he has no idea that she’s about to get into BIG trouble with the law—and he’ll be the one presiding over her trial. To make matters worse, his father is the lawyer representing her in the high-profile case.
When a series of events force them together over New Year’s weekend, Jonathan’s feelings and ethics will come into question, while Jada comes to terms with the fact that she is falling for the man that will be responsible for attempting to put her behind bars… Little do they know, they're both about to fall into a whirlwind so deep, it will send both their lives spiraling out of control.
Jonathan Kole is San Francisco’s newest District Attorney. When he finds himself deeply attracted to a stunning beauty, he has no idea that she’s about to get into BIG trouble with the law—and he’ll be the one presiding over her trial. To make matters worse, his father is the lawyer representing her in the high-profile case.
When a series of events force them together over New Year’s weekend, Jonathan’s feelings and ethics will come into question, while Jada comes to terms with the fact that she is falling for the man that will be responsible for attempting to put her behind bars… Little do they know, they're both about to fall into a whirlwind so deep, it will send both their lives spiraling out of control.
Their First Meeting
The pretty, young host escorts me to a table for two near a window with panoramic water vistas. Within minutes, a server takes my order. As my café latté arrives, I can’t help but overhear a rude exchange between a man and his leggy blonde with the host that escorted me to my seat.
“Look, I reserved that exact seat yesterday,” he says.
“I apologize sir, but that seat is not available,” the host replies.
“Well, if you were doing your job in the first place, it would be available to me, wouldn’t it?”
“Sir, I’m sorry for the error, but it wasn’t written here. If you like, you can wait at the bar where I’ll be happy to serve you a complimentary beverage of your choice while you wait, or I can accommodate you at an available table now.”
I can’t help but look to see who this asshole is.
Everything about him smells of money. From the designer jeans that hug his ass, all the way to the Jaeger Reverso watch that graces his wrist. He’s hot—probably in his mid to late thirties, tall, broad shoulders, piercing grey eyes, and a head of black hair like I’ve never seen.
Ordinarily, I might have found him attractive, if only he would just shut up.
Everything he says to that poor young girl, who has tried so hard to rectify someone else’s mistake, pisses me off. He’s been nothing but rude and condescending. As I look up, my eyes land straight on his. Then I realize they’re all looking my way. I turn around to look behind me, but there is no one. Then it dawns on me that he’s arguing with the host about my seat.
My meal arrives. I mind my business, and I proceed to enjoy it. Before I know it, I see him approaching my table. I pretend not to notice and focus all my attention on my lemon ricotta pancakes before me, but within seconds, he stands beside me.
“Excuse me, my name is Jonathan Kole. Would you mind terribly if you were seated elsewhere?”
My eyes travel across my pancakes to his broad thighs, to his crotch, and to what I suspect is an extremely trimmed stomach beyond his black ribbed sweater. Then I stare into his grey eyes in silence.
“You see, my girlfriend and I met right here at this table a year ago, and I wanted to propose to her.
Here. Today.”
“Actually, Jonathan, I do mind. Seeing that I’m enjoying my meal, surely you wouldn’t mind waiting until I’m done. Or perhaps you can let that polite host, who has done everything possible to accommodate you, have you seated elsewhere.”
“Do you have any idea who I am?” he asks.
Asshole! Your name might sound familiar but who cares…
“No. You could be the king of England and I wouldn’t give a damn.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?”
“You really want to know?” I ask quietly.
He lowers his head slightly, as if he’s seriously interested.
“I am a woman who walked in on her fiancé screwing her best friend one week before her wedding, so forgive me if I’m not in a sentimental mood.”
His mouth drops open at my response.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Kole, I’d really like to enjoy my brunch.”
His piercing grey eyes are glaring into mine. I know he’s angry. His temple pulsates as he stares at me. He walks away completely flushed.
I don’t care. Perhaps if he had been nicer to that host I would have considered his request. However, because he comes from money doesn’t give him the right to speak to people any which way he wishes.
I continue to enjoy my meal and notice him walking hand in hand to the bar with Malibu Barbie. Half an hour later, I ask for the check then purposely make him wait an additional five minutes before I leave.
On the way out, the host looks at me bright-eyed. “No one ever speaks to Mr. Kole that way, Miss McLean.”
“Well, it’s time someone taught him some manners,” I reply. I hand her a healthy tip, and I’m on my way.
“Look, I reserved that exact seat yesterday,” he says.
“I apologize sir, but that seat is not available,” the host replies.
“Well, if you were doing your job in the first place, it would be available to me, wouldn’t it?”
“Sir, I’m sorry for the error, but it wasn’t written here. If you like, you can wait at the bar where I’ll be happy to serve you a complimentary beverage of your choice while you wait, or I can accommodate you at an available table now.”
I can’t help but look to see who this asshole is.
Everything about him smells of money. From the designer jeans that hug his ass, all the way to the Jaeger Reverso watch that graces his wrist. He’s hot—probably in his mid to late thirties, tall, broad shoulders, piercing grey eyes, and a head of black hair like I’ve never seen.
Ordinarily, I might have found him attractive, if only he would just shut up.
Everything he says to that poor young girl, who has tried so hard to rectify someone else’s mistake, pisses me off. He’s been nothing but rude and condescending. As I look up, my eyes land straight on his. Then I realize they’re all looking my way. I turn around to look behind me, but there is no one. Then it dawns on me that he’s arguing with the host about my seat.
My meal arrives. I mind my business, and I proceed to enjoy it. Before I know it, I see him approaching my table. I pretend not to notice and focus all my attention on my lemon ricotta pancakes before me, but within seconds, he stands beside me.
“Excuse me, my name is Jonathan Kole. Would you mind terribly if you were seated elsewhere?”
My eyes travel across my pancakes to his broad thighs, to his crotch, and to what I suspect is an extremely trimmed stomach beyond his black ribbed sweater. Then I stare into his grey eyes in silence.
“You see, my girlfriend and I met right here at this table a year ago, and I wanted to propose to her.
Here. Today.”
“Actually, Jonathan, I do mind. Seeing that I’m enjoying my meal, surely you wouldn’t mind waiting until I’m done. Or perhaps you can let that polite host, who has done everything possible to accommodate you, have you seated elsewhere.”
“Do you have any idea who I am?” he asks.
Asshole! Your name might sound familiar but who cares…
“No. You could be the king of England and I wouldn’t give a damn.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?”
“You really want to know?” I ask quietly.
He lowers his head slightly, as if he’s seriously interested.
“I am a woman who walked in on her fiancé screwing her best friend one week before her wedding, so forgive me if I’m not in a sentimental mood.”
His mouth drops open at my response.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Kole, I’d really like to enjoy my brunch.”
His piercing grey eyes are glaring into mine. I know he’s angry. His temple pulsates as he stares at me. He walks away completely flushed.
I don’t care. Perhaps if he had been nicer to that host I would have considered his request. However, because he comes from money doesn’t give him the right to speak to people any which way he wishes.
I continue to enjoy my meal and notice him walking hand in hand to the bar with Malibu Barbie. Half an hour later, I ask for the check then purposely make him wait an additional five minutes before I leave.
On the way out, the host looks at me bright-eyed. “No one ever speaks to Mr. Kole that way, Miss McLean.”
“Well, it’s time someone taught him some manners,” I reply. I hand her a healthy tip, and I’m on my way.
Steamy Excerpt
We finish lunch and watch a movie and some football, complete with popcorn and soda. When the sun starts its descent, we head to the hot tub. I am a little nervous. I hope I don’t gawk at him again. I slip into a little white bikini, wrap myself in a robe, and head out.
When I get onto the terrace, I try to ignore the fact that ass-hugging Ralph Lauren trunks cling to every inch of his well-endowed front… and back. He steps into the tub, and after I tear my robe away, he stretches out his hand and helps me in. I have no idea what I was thinking when I agreed to this. I can’t get hot and sexy images of us having passionate sex in the tub out of my head.
Since Richard and I broke up, my body has craved sexual pleasure in a way it hasn’t before, but this is flipping torture. Sure, I’ve pleasured myself a few times, but there is no substitute for a man who you’re physically attracted to who you know knows all the right things to do to you in bed. Sitting opposite to him, I close my eyes, sit back, and relax. I hope that I don’t give him a clue that while I lie here, I am practically salivating at the mouth and lusting for his sexual pleasure.
I am just starting to calm down and relax when he raises one of my feet and massages, working his thumbs from around my ankle to the arch of my foot and then my toes. My God, I swear this could be considered foreplay, because what he is doing to me right now causes all sorts of tension to develop between my thighs, along with the tingling sensation that runs down my lower back.
My goodness. Is he purposely trying to seduce me, or is he completely unaware of what his actions are doing to my body?
Oh, don’t be naïve, Jada. Of course he knows what he’s doing. He’s made his feelings for you abundantly clear.
He moves to my other foot, and as he works, a soft moan spurts out of my lips. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this sexually aroused. I try to remember the last time I was with Richard, and nothing comes to mind. Jonathan snaps me back to the present when his hands move from my feet and he works his way up my calf.
Oh God, that feels good.
I feel like I’m losing control. I want him to make love to me. I open my eyes, and I’m startled when I find him staring straight at me. He hooks his arms under my thighs and pulls me towards him. The look in his eyes are filled with pure desire. I’m straddling him, and I can feel his erection in the center of my crevasse; just a few thin strips of fabric are between us.
He folds me in his arms and draws me close to him. My heart explodes between our bodies, and my hardened nipples are against his chest. I lean my forehead against his, and finally our lips touch. He gently braces my head with his palm, and I wrap my arms around his neck. He kisses me again, but this time I part my lips, allowing his tongue to slip into my mouth. I open my mouth wider, letting him deepen our kiss, allowing our tongues to tease and explore each other. My hands roam over his neck, shoulders, and chest.
His hands glide over my shoulders and down to my back. He draws me closer towards him. Kissing my neck, his hands caress my back, and his fingers inch closer to the ties of my swimsuit.
Suddenly, I remember that he may very well be the man to ensure that I am sent off to prison.
I pull away. My breathing is heavy—so is his. My forehead is still against his. He kisses me on my cheek then my neck.
“Why’d you have to be the bloody District Attorney?” I whisper.
“And why’d you have to be a suspect?” he responds.
When I get onto the terrace, I try to ignore the fact that ass-hugging Ralph Lauren trunks cling to every inch of his well-endowed front… and back. He steps into the tub, and after I tear my robe away, he stretches out his hand and helps me in. I have no idea what I was thinking when I agreed to this. I can’t get hot and sexy images of us having passionate sex in the tub out of my head.
Since Richard and I broke up, my body has craved sexual pleasure in a way it hasn’t before, but this is flipping torture. Sure, I’ve pleasured myself a few times, but there is no substitute for a man who you’re physically attracted to who you know knows all the right things to do to you in bed. Sitting opposite to him, I close my eyes, sit back, and relax. I hope that I don’t give him a clue that while I lie here, I am practically salivating at the mouth and lusting for his sexual pleasure.
I am just starting to calm down and relax when he raises one of my feet and massages, working his thumbs from around my ankle to the arch of my foot and then my toes. My God, I swear this could be considered foreplay, because what he is doing to me right now causes all sorts of tension to develop between my thighs, along with the tingling sensation that runs down my lower back.
My goodness. Is he purposely trying to seduce me, or is he completely unaware of what his actions are doing to my body?
Oh, don’t be naïve, Jada. Of course he knows what he’s doing. He’s made his feelings for you abundantly clear.
He moves to my other foot, and as he works, a soft moan spurts out of my lips. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this sexually aroused. I try to remember the last time I was with Richard, and nothing comes to mind. Jonathan snaps me back to the present when his hands move from my feet and he works his way up my calf.
Oh God, that feels good.
I feel like I’m losing control. I want him to make love to me. I open my eyes, and I’m startled when I find him staring straight at me. He hooks his arms under my thighs and pulls me towards him. The look in his eyes are filled with pure desire. I’m straddling him, and I can feel his erection in the center of my crevasse; just a few thin strips of fabric are between us.
He folds me in his arms and draws me close to him. My heart explodes between our bodies, and my hardened nipples are against his chest. I lean my forehead against his, and finally our lips touch. He gently braces my head with his palm, and I wrap my arms around his neck. He kisses me again, but this time I part my lips, allowing his tongue to slip into my mouth. I open my mouth wider, letting him deepen our kiss, allowing our tongues to tease and explore each other. My hands roam over his neck, shoulders, and chest.
His hands glide over my shoulders and down to my back. He draws me closer towards him. Kissing my neck, his hands caress my back, and his fingers inch closer to the ties of my swimsuit.
Suddenly, I remember that he may very well be the man to ensure that I am sent off to prison.
I pull away. My breathing is heavy—so is his. My forehead is still against his. He kisses me on my cheek then my neck.
“Why’d you have to be the bloody District Attorney?” I whisper.
“And why’d you have to be a suspect?” he responds.
YouTube Trailer Link
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Author Bio
Rebecca Rohman is a wife and designer currently living in the Northeastern United States. She was a Sales Manager for a tourist magazine, and for many years prior, she was involved in marketing for a jewelry company, and later for a fine wine distributor.
About fifteen years ago, she started writing her first romance novel, Uncorked, just to purely entertain herself. It was not until early in 2012 when she decided to complete it and share it with the world. The story was published in February of 2013. Love, Lies & The D.A. is her second novel.
About fifteen years ago, she started writing her first romance novel, Uncorked, just to purely entertain herself. It was not until early in 2012 when she decided to complete it and share it with the world. The story was published in February of 2013. Love, Lies & The D.A. is her second novel.
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www.RebeccaRohman.com
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Facebook Rebecca Rohman Page
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Facebook Love Lies & The D.A. Page
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Goodreads
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https://twitter.com/RebeccaRohman1
http://www.pinterest.com/rebeccarohman5/
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