Dare She Kiss & Tell?. Aimee CarsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
ignoring her enticing citrus scent.
She shot him a you-can’t-be-serious look and stretched those beautiful legs, clearly determined to match his stride. “Why do you keep insisting on the use of your first name? To pretend you have a heart?”
Biting back a smile, he trained his gaze on the exit door, feeling a touch of guilt for enjoying her reaction and her struggle to keep pace with him. “You’re just mad you lost.”
“All I wanted from you was a few minutes of your time, but for weeks you were too busy. Yet you turn up here and then agree to a second show.” Her tone was a mix of irritation, confusion and curiosity, as if she truly wanted an answer to the burning question. “Why?”
“Maybe you charmed me into it.”
“Aphrodite herself couldn’t charm you into going against your will,” she said as she continued walking beside him. “So why now?
“The time suited.”
She stopped in front of him, forcing him to come to a halt or plow her over. “Saturday at midnight?” Her tone radiated disbelief. “But you must be exhausted after spending the week protecting your big-name clients from sophisticated hackers and designing those heart-warming apps.” Apparently she couldn’t resist another dig. “I do hope you’re well compensated.”
Keeping a straight face was hard. “The money is excellent.”
He could tell his response ticked her off even more. The slight flattening of her full lips was a dead giveaway. But eight years ago he’d painstakingly begun the process of rebuilding his life. The main benefits of the business he’d started were financial, and he wasn’t about to apologize to anyone for that.
“The real question is …” She stepped closer and the crackling electricity was back, heating him up and breaking his train of thought in a disturbing way. “How much has your humiliating app made you?”
“Less than you’d think.”
“I’d settle for less than I’d hoped.”
He tipped his head. “And how much would that be?”
She planted a hand on a hip that displayed just the right amount of curve. “How far below zero can you count?”
This time he didn’t hold back the small smile as she tried to restrain her anger. “Depends on the incentive,” he said, feeling an irresistible need to bait her further. “You can try hiking your dress higher again and see how low I can go.”
At the mention of her previous maneuver she didn’t flinch or seem sorry—which for some reason pleased him.
“What would be the point?” she said, and her smile leaned more toward sarcasm than humor. “You aren’t the type to get distracted by a little leg, are you?”
He couldn’t afford to get distracted. Getting used by a woman twice in one decade would qualify him for a lifetime achievement award for stupidity. However, his body was taking notice of Carly in every way possible. Despite the years of practice, this time, with this particular woman, he struggled to seize the wayward responses and enclose them in steel even as he appreciated the sun-kissed skin, the silky brown hair and the slip-dress-covered figure built to inspire a man’s imagination.
She leaned closer, as if to get his full attention. Which was ironic, seeing as how he was struggling not to notice everything about her. “I’m still waiting on an answer,” she said.
“To which question?” he said. “If I’m susceptible to a woman openly flirting to gain an advantage or whether I have a heart?”
“I’m certain you don’t have a heart,” she said, and he recognized the silky tone she adopted when anger sparkled in her eyes. “But you know what else I think?”
Hunter stared at Carly. The bold challenge in her face reminded him of how far she’d gone to hunt him down. He’d pulled his punches tonight, because anything more would have agitated a crowd that was already against him. But right now they were alone, so he wrapped his tone in his usual steel. “What do you think?”
Her lids widened slightly, as if she was having second thoughts. Her words proved otherwise. “I think you’re a soulless, cold-hearted bastard whose only concern is the bottom line,” she said. “The very sort of man I can’t stand.”
He dropped his voice to dangerous levels. “In that case you shouldn’t have dared me to come back.”
Her chin hiked a touch higher. “It was a last-minute decision.”
“Having trouble controlling your impulses?”
Her chest hitched faster, as if she were fighting to control her anger. “I have no regrets.”
“Not yet, anyway.”
“I suspect your reasons for appearing tonight were less about convenience and more about the free advertising for your heartless app.”
His pause was slight, but meaningful. “But I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”
He was certain she was smart enough to decode his message.
A message that must have infuriated her more, as her eyes narrowed. “If you benefit financially because of tonight, you should send me flowers to show your gratitude.”
The thought brought his first genuine smile. “Perhaps I will.”
The muscles around her beautiful mouth tensed, as if she were biting her cheek to keep from spilling a retort. “Orchids, not roses,” she said. “I like a bouquet that’s original.”
She crossed her arms, framing her breasts and tripping up his thoughts. Hunter wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not.
“I’m easily bored,” she said.
As he stared at his lovely adversary, her face radiating a mix of amusing sass, honest exasperation and barely caged antagonism, he realized why he’d agreed to come back. It wasn’t just his inexplicable restlessness of late. Despite the threat she posed, he was enjoying their duel. In truth, he was in danger of liking her—and, with all his money, it was one of the few things in life he couldn’t afford to do.
He passed around her, heading for the exit. “I’ll keep your floral preferences in mind.”
Late Monday afternoon Hunter weaved his way through the crowded, opulent lobby of SunCare Bank. His cell phone rang and, recognizing the number, he answered without a hello. “I just finished delivering the SunCare proposal. I thought you were going to try and make it?”
“You have smooth negotiating skills,” his partner said. “I’m lousy with clients.”
“Perhaps because you expect everyone to speak fluent binary code.”
“It’s the language of the future, my friend,” Pete Booker said. “And I might have crummy people skills, but I’m brilliant at debugging our cross-platform encryption software. Which I finished in record time, so round of applause for me.”
Hunter suppressed the grin. His friend, a former whiz kid and quintessential technogeek—the stereotype Carly Wolfe had clearly been expecting—hated meetings of any kind. And while Hunter had a healthy ego, was comfortable with his skills as an expert at cyber security, “mathematical genius” didn’t even touch Booker’s capabilities. Unfortunately what Mother Nature had bestowed on Booker in brains she’d shortchanged him in the social graces, leaving Hunter the front man for their business. Still, theirs was a formidable team, and there was no one Hunter trusted more.
“But I didn’t call for applause,” Booker said. “I called to tell you we’ve got trouble.”
Familiar with his friend’s love for conspiracy plots, Hunter maintained his role as the straight man. “More trouble than those secret silent black helicopters?”
“Chuckle