Read Online Overlord: The Fringe, Book 2 by Anitra Lynn McLeod - Free Book Online
Authors: Anitra Lynn McLeod
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Made you look.”
Dagger-filled, his gaze settled on her. “Remarkably Average Mary No-last-name.” He tossed the paper at her feet. “It sums you up. In more ways than you think.”
Clearly, he expected her to lunge for the report, like a hound at his master’s table scrap.
“This is what I think of your report.” She took her cup of steaming coffee and poured it over the folded paper. Splashes of expensive hot brown liquid splattered off the white onto the blond hardwood floor. She dribbled her entire cup on his report, then dumped cream and sugar on it as well. She looked up, made sure he watched her, stood and tromped her bare foot on the whole mess with a satisfying squish.
“Take your report, twirl it tight and stuff it.” She sat, wiped her foot off on the crisp linen tablecloth and stood again. “I’m not giving you a damn thing.”
Head held high, she marched to the doorway and turned back. “Do yourself a favor—cut me loose.” She shook her head at him as if reproving a child. “You can’t buy me, you can’t entice me and, in case you missed it, you can’t manipulate me with information, either.”
Commander sat at the table, his coffee cup paused halfway to his mouth, as if stunned speechless.
“You think that piece of paper gives you the heads-up on me?” She laughed as she tapped her finger against her head. “If you take it as gospel, what folks in Pine Glenn are inclined to say, you’re fooling yourself. And you have my permission to do so.”
He considered her with that stripping gaze. “Sounds like you don’t know what the truth about yourself is.”
“After everything hurled at me, nasty names and comments pointed, you think I should take your word for the truth?” She cast him an incredulous glare. “With my pathetic, parentless childhood, don’t you think I’ve met my share of taunting bullies?”
He pulled back just a fraction, and she knew she’d surprised him again.
“Take that mess on the floor and say it’s the truth, the whole truth and nothing but.” She nodded to the sodden mess. “Do you think if it came from your hand I would believe it?”
He considered the mess, then her. “You wouldn’t take my word as backing to your own name. Not that you know your own name.”
He wanted the comment to hurt. And it did. But she refused to let it show. “Great.” She uttered a self-deprecating laugh. “I don’t know my name or yours. Shouldn’t that make us even?”
He bristled like a man unaccustomed to losing an argument.
“You can’t hold my supposed truth over my head like a dangling carrot.” She curtsied her skirt to him. “As I said, I’m not a farm donkey. I won’t follow just because you lead. No matter how big your carrot.”
He lifted an eyebrow as he shot her that enigmatic half grin.
She closed her eyes in horror as the double entendre caught up to her mind long after her mouth finished. He must have one hell of a big carrot from the size of the rest of him. She opened her eyes and looked right at the table where she’d be able to see his leather-clad crotch, if only that pesky ivory tablecloth didn’t block the view.
Pushing back from the table, he gave her a clear line of sight and gave his hips a minor but suggestive thrust. “No matter how enticing, how big , my carrot, you won’t consider a trade?”
A flush crept across her face as she tore her gaze away and turned her back to him. “I’m not making another deal with the devil.”
“Devil? I’ve fallen from the grace of being called a bastard.” His voice rolled raw and powerful as a landslide.
“Tell me your name, and I’d gladly—”
“Find a way to abuse it in a vulgar fashion the likes of which I’ve never heard.” He chuckled. “No deal, Mary.”
“Fine, Co-man-dur.”
“See what I mean?”
She grinned but still didn’t turn to face him. She didn’t need to. She knew what his angular face would look like. How big and strong and aggressive his
Dagger-filled, his gaze settled on her. “Remarkably Average Mary No-last-name.” He tossed the paper at her feet. “It sums you up. In more ways than you think.”
Clearly, he expected her to lunge for the report, like a hound at his master’s table scrap.
“This is what I think of your report.” She took her cup of steaming coffee and poured it over the folded paper. Splashes of expensive hot brown liquid splattered off the white onto the blond hardwood floor. She dribbled her entire cup on his report, then dumped cream and sugar on it as well. She looked up, made sure he watched her, stood and tromped her bare foot on the whole mess with a satisfying squish.
“Take your report, twirl it tight and stuff it.” She sat, wiped her foot off on the crisp linen tablecloth and stood again. “I’m not giving you a damn thing.”
Head held high, she marched to the doorway and turned back. “Do yourself a favor—cut me loose.” She shook her head at him as if reproving a child. “You can’t buy me, you can’t entice me and, in case you missed it, you can’t manipulate me with information, either.”
Commander sat at the table, his coffee cup paused halfway to his mouth, as if stunned speechless.
“You think that piece of paper gives you the heads-up on me?” She laughed as she tapped her finger against her head. “If you take it as gospel, what folks in Pine Glenn are inclined to say, you’re fooling yourself. And you have my permission to do so.”
He considered her with that stripping gaze. “Sounds like you don’t know what the truth about yourself is.”
“After everything hurled at me, nasty names and comments pointed, you think I should take your word for the truth?” She cast him an incredulous glare. “With my pathetic, parentless childhood, don’t you think I’ve met my share of taunting bullies?”
He pulled back just a fraction, and she knew she’d surprised him again.
“Take that mess on the floor and say it’s the truth, the whole truth and nothing but.” She nodded to the sodden mess. “Do you think if it came from your hand I would believe it?”
He considered the mess, then her. “You wouldn’t take my word as backing to your own name. Not that you know your own name.”
He wanted the comment to hurt. And it did. But she refused to let it show. “Great.” She uttered a self-deprecating laugh. “I don’t know my name or yours. Shouldn’t that make us even?”
He bristled like a man unaccustomed to losing an argument.
“You can’t hold my supposed truth over my head like a dangling carrot.” She curtsied her skirt to him. “As I said, I’m not a farm donkey. I won’t follow just because you lead. No matter how big your carrot.”
He lifted an eyebrow as he shot her that enigmatic half grin.
She closed her eyes in horror as the double entendre caught up to her mind long after her mouth finished. He must have one hell of a big carrot from the size of the rest of him. She opened her eyes and looked right at the table where she’d be able to see his leather-clad crotch, if only that pesky ivory tablecloth didn’t block the view.
Pushing back from the table, he gave her a clear line of sight and gave his hips a minor but suggestive thrust. “No matter how enticing, how big , my carrot, you won’t consider a trade?”
A flush crept across her face as she tore her gaze away and turned her back to him. “I’m not making another deal with the devil.”
“Devil? I’ve fallen from the grace of being called a bastard.” His voice rolled raw and powerful as a landslide.
“Tell me your name, and I’d gladly—”
“Find a way to abuse it in a vulgar fashion the likes of which I’ve never heard.” He chuckled. “No deal, Mary.”
“Fine, Co-man-dur.”
“See what I mean?”
She grinned but still didn’t turn to face him. She didn’t need to. She knew what his angular face would look like. How big and strong and aggressive his
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