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All In The Game. Barbara BoswellЧитать онлайн книгу.

All In The Game - Barbara Boswell


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as studio lighting. The air was thick with the exotic scents of tropical plants and the piercing calls of nocturnal birds.

      Ty wondered if his eyes were popping out of his skull. Was it possible for his heartbeat to skyrocket this high and still sustain life?

      But Shannen was the epitome of cool, just as she was during the days of filming. No eyes popping or thundering pulses for her at the sight of him, so Ty carefully maintained an imperturbable facade of his own.

      He shrugged. “I have to admit I was surprised to find your note requesting me to meet you here,” he replied, his voice equally casual. “I’m curious. How did you manage to—”

      “I managed to, okay?” Her blue eyes flashed.

      “Okay.” He waited for her to tell him the reason why she’d demanded this meeting.

      And though he had tactfully rephrased it as a “request,” it was not. It had been a demand, and they both knew it. The demanding tenor of the note was one of the main reasons he’d decided it had to be a practical joke. Shannen Cullen wouldn’t order him to meet her.

      And yet it appeared that she’d done exactly that, because here she was.

      Here they both were.

      Shannen said nothing.

      Silence stretched between them. It occurred to Ty that she was waiting for him to speak first. And that no matter how long the silence lasted, she was prepared to outwait him.

      Ty heaved a sigh. “You’re strategizing, aren’t you? Can you stop playing the infernal game for just a few minutes and—”

      “Play the game or be played. Isn’t that how it goes?” she challenged, her tone mocking. “Well, since you see me as a master strategist, can you guess what my alleged strategy is?”

      “Time to check your ego, honey. I didn’t say I saw you as a master strategist.”

      She shot him a fierce look of contempt, a look that would’ve sent a more cautious man running. But Ty had never been particularly cautious, so he stayed where he was.

      “Definitely not a master,” he reiterated. He was pleased he’d gotten under her skin, at least a little. “Your ploy is right out of Strategy 101, the course for beginners. You believe you’ll gain an advantage if I have to ask why you demanded this meeting.”

      This time he not only used the correct word, he emphasized it. Just a bit of his own simple strategy. Plus, he was certain it would annoy her.

      It did. “Don’t call me honey! And it was a request, not a demand. A polite request,” she added loftily.

      “Not going to concede an inch, hmm?” He laughed, a peculiar lightheartedness flooding him. “Just like old times.”

      “Are you trying to be ironic?” She fairly spat the words at him. “If you are, it’s not working. Oh, just forget it! Forget that I wrote that stupid note and—”

      “Suppose I willingly and knowingly succumb to your masterful strategy instead. Why did you politely request to meet me here tonight?”

      Shannen took a deep breath and averted her eyes. “I…I want you to stop following me around,” she said sternly.

      It was a jaw-dropping moment that left him totally nonplussed. “You’re joking,” he murmured uncertainly, for neither her tone nor her expression held even the hint of a joke. “Or maybe you’re trying to be ironic? Given the circumstances of—”

      “You know exactly what I mean,” she snapped.

      “I certainly don’t. And let’s not forget that you demanded to see me tonight. It’ll be interesting to hear you rationalize how I followed you when you set up this meeting yourself.”

      Her eyes narrowed into slits. She was furious.

      He grinned, unable to resist baiting her further. “Would it be gameworthy of me to point out that I have a job to do, and you have a role, so to speak, which makes—”

      “This goes beyond any job or any role, and you know it,” she said. “I’ve seen the way you watch me. You’re always staring at me, always filming me. Don’t bother to deny it.”

      “Ah, in addition to your many other charms, you’re also paranoid…little girl,” he added pointedly.

      She picked up his point instantly. “I am not a little girl, you…you—”

      “Condescending, self-righteous jerk?” he suggested. “Oh yes, I remember that, Shannen. I remember everything. But I wasn’t sure that you did, not until I got your note tonight.”

      He didn’t bother to add how he’d decided the note was bogus. He was too elated that it was real.

      “You thought I didn’t remember you?” For a moment Shannen looked genuinely surprised, but she quickly resumed hostilities. “Well, I do—and it’s obvious that the description still fits you. You’re still condescending, you’re still self-righteous and you’re still a jerk!”

      “How would you know? This is the first time we’ve spoken since—”

      “A tiger never changes its stripes,” she said. “Or is it a leopard who doesn’t change its spots? Oh, who cares! I know I can—”

      She abruptly stopped speaking when he advanced toward her.

      “You can what?” He stood directly in front of her, towering over her.

      The aroma of saltwater and sunscreen, mixed with an alluring scent all her own, filled his nostrils. “You can what?” he repeated huskily.

      She swallowed. “I…I forget.”

      “How about this, then? You can prove you’re not a little girl anymore?”

      Her eyes widened as he slowly lowered his head toward her. His hands were at his sides and he made no attempt to hold her in place or restrain her in any way.

      She could easily have stepped aside or pushed him away; she could’ve ordered him to go back from her or made a threat that would have sent him on his way.

      But she did none of those things. Slowly Shannen raised her arms to encircle his neck. Their gazes locked and held for a long moment. He watched her eyelids flutter shut as he touched his mouth to hers.

      What began as a light, tentative caress of his lips against hers quickly turned into something else entirely. There was nothing light or tentative about the hot, hungry coupling of their mouths.

      Ty murmured something unintelligible as her lips parted to welcome his tongue inside.

      Shannen pressed closer, twisting restlessly against him, opening her mouth wider in sensual invitation. He accepted, deepening the kiss, thrusting his knee between her thighs and molding her to him, his hands smoothing over her, possessively, eagerly learning every curve.

      The kiss went on and on, desire building, passion burning. Ty slowly lowered her to the ground, pulling her on top of him. His fingers nimbly opened the clasp of her halter top, freeing her breasts. His hand cupped one soft milky-white breast, and he groaned with pleasure.

      A split second later, he was lying on the sand alone. Shannen had pulled away from him and jumped to her feet with disorienting speed.

      “No!” she exclaimed, fumbling to close the clasp he had so effortlessly undone. Her dexterity didn’t equal his and she gave up, holding the halter together with one hand.

      Ty rose slowly, almost painfully, to his feet. “Let me help you with that.”

      She backed away from him as if he were radioactive. “Go away! I…I told you to keep away from me.”

      “Yes, you did.” His lips twisted into a wry smile. “But your message was—hmm, how can I put this tactfully?—mixed.”

      She flushed scarlet, the bright


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