Read Online Living the Charade by Michelle Conder - Free Book Online Page B

who he was. There was nothing more likely to get a woman into his bed than giving them his job title, but this pretty little ray of sunshine was not only not trying to sleep with him, she was making up a bed on the floor!
    She couldn’t have challenged him more if she’d tried, and because he had been thwarted in racing these last couple of months, first due to injury and then because his car was under-performing and causing all sorts of problems, he was more frustrated than he normally would be. Which went a lot further towards explaining his sexual fascination with her than anything else he’d come up with so far.
    It was even more of a reason to keep his distance from her. He wasn’t a slave to his hormones, and he had enough complications at the moment without adding her to the list.
    He yanked off his jeans and got into the king-sized bed, letting out an exaggerated sigh of appreciation as the soft mattress gave just enough beneath his body. He might as well enjoy it since he knew she was about to order him to sleep on the floor. He’d do it once she said please. A word she was sorely in need of learning how to use.
    He grinned. He was quite looking forward to seeing how long it would take before she caved in and used it.
    He watched with some satisfaction as she stalked to the main door and hit the light switch with her open palm as if she wished it was his head. Then she did something completely unexpected. She shimmied out of her robe and got into the makeshift bed on the floor.
    And made him feel like an absolute idiot.
    ‘Ever had your testosterone levels checked out?’ he grumbled.
    ‘What’s the matter, Valentino? Your masculinity being challenged because I’m not falling at your feet?’
    Yes, as a matter of fact it was.
    ‘Was the kiss that good?’ he purred.
    ‘I can’t remember.’
    He heard her fake a yawn and shook his head. ‘Sounds like you want a reminder.’
    ‘Not in this lifetime,’ she sputtered.
    Her protest was a little too vigorous, which he liked.
    Tino stretched out on the bed and stared at the ceiling, his eyes starting to adjust to the grey shadows cast around the room from the moonlight seeping in around the sheer curtains.
    He heard the blankets on the floor rustle and his teeth gnashed together. She was being ridiculous and taking this just a little too far. He wondered if she was wearing something lacy. Something like the freshly laundered hot-pink thong hanging on the towel rail in the bathroom. The sight of those delicate panties had knocked him for a six, and he was pretty sure she hadn’t left them there deliberately.
    Finding out she really did favour sexy lingerie was a fact he could have well done without. Ball-breaking Miss Miller Jacobs was turning out to be full of contradictions. Not least of all that fiery response to his kiss in the garden.
    Acting , she had said after the event. Yeah, right.
    Acting, my ass.
    Yeah, and you’re not supposed to be thinking about it.
    ‘I like the thong you left in the bathroom,’ he said, unable to help annoying her as she was annoying him.
    ‘You can’t borrow it,’ she said after a slight pause.
    He gave a soft chuckle. Man , she was sassy. And, no, he didn’t want to borrow it. But he wouldn’t have minded stripping it down her long legs to see what he was sure would be tawny curls underneath. His heart beat the blood a little more heavily around his body and he was unable to stop his mind from imagining her naked and spread out on the four-poster bed. Imagining her soft and wet with the same need that had compelled her to wrap her tongue around his in that garden.
    He breathed deep and willed his body to relax, reminding himself that he only wanted her because he’d placed an embargo around her.
    The blankets rustled again as she adjusted herself on the hard floor that not even thousand-dollar-a-metre carpet could soften.
    His blood was Sicilian, and if she thought he could stay sprawled out on a comfortable bed