Read Online If You Dare by Kresley Cole - Free Book Online

Underhanded, even.
    Because she would use him.
    What if she could hire him and his men to help her? What if she could tempt him to want to help her? If she was one of those women—if the whispers about her were true—then surely she could have some effect on a man.
    What did she have to lose by trying?
    Before her courage failed her, she stood, then walked around the desk toward him. When he quickly stood as well, she stopped and reached back for her glass—just one more little sip for courage. . . . She turned back and he was directly in front of her, looking at her face in his intense, watchful manner.
    He took a gentle, shuffling step closer, as though he didn’t want to frighten her away. She backed up to the desk, but he kept drawing nearer, surrounding her with his body, with his appealing scent. And some common, base part deep inside her reveled in his size, reveled in the heat she could feel from his skin.
    His gaze caught hers, as if he couldn’t stop looking at her. Up so close, she could see how much his eyes had cleared, could see how remarkably dark they were, the irises black like obsidian. And the way he looked at her . . . as though he was hungry for her. As though he lusted, and understood like no man had before how incredibly much she did, too. She felt like she’d caught fire.
    She set her palms against the edge of the desk, wrapping her fingers around it, then nervously licked her lips, unsure of what to do. He must have realized she wasn’t leaving, wasn’t moving from this spot, because he appeared baffled, his brows drawn. It was as though she could hear him thinking. She knew he was suspicious of her behavior. She also knew he would decide to enjoy now and figure it out later. As if on cue, his expression changed to one of intent.
    As she’d seen women do on bridges across Paris at sunset, she brushed her hands up over his chest and then rested them on the back of his neck. When her fingers twined behind him, his breaths hastened. “MacCarrick,” she murmured. “Do you . . . like me?”
    His gaze was flickering over her face, sometimes resting on her lips, but now meeting her eyes. “Right now I like you very much.”
    She threaded her fingers in his hair. “After tonight, do you want to be my . . . friend?”
    His voice was deep and husky when he said, “Among other things.”
    â€œCan I trust you?”
    He nodded slowly. “With this? Aye, I’ll no’ tell a soul.”
    She frowned at his comment, but went forward with what she had to do. “If I asked you for something, would you want to give it to me?”
    He seemed to stiffen at her question, and a muscle in his cheek twitched. Then she had the impression that he was forcing himself to relax. “Anna, I will give you something that you want.”
    Though he’d turned her words around, she still murmured, “MacCarrick . . .” He bent lower to hear her better, and she whispered against his ear, “Kiss me, MacCarrick.”
    He shuddered.
    Her breath against his ear made this mercenary react so strongly? She wondered what her touch might do. If she was the type of woman people accused her of being, then maybe she was also the type of woman who could “bring a man to his knees.” She rather liked the thought.
    He put his palm on the back of her head, drawing her in. She thought he would kiss her, but he hesitated, as if to let her body grow accustomed to his, as if savoring that he was about to kiss her as he had savored the whisky.
    The second he placed his lips on hers and slanted his mouth, heat shot through her body. When he kissed down the side of her neck, she sucked in a breath, staggered by the feelings. His hands found her backside and he yanked her into him—hard—until she could feel his erection, huge against her belly. This is wrong— His lips were warm and firm and