Read Online The Cinderella Mission by Catherine Mann - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Catherine Mann
Ads: Link
swung open.
“Prepare to feast.” Ethan kicked the door shut again and set the tray on the kitchenette table.
Kelly hooked her arm on the back of her chair and looked down onto the too-intimate dining setup. It was just dinner, she told herself and started to stand.
An image of Brittany’s face doused those thoughts.
Kelly sunk back into her chair. “How about bringing it up here so we can keep working?”
“Hatch doesn’t pay overtime, you know.” Ethan reached into the refrigerator and pulled out two long-neck bottles.
Alcohol and Ethan at the same time? Unwise.
She needed to keep her inhibitions firmly in place around him. Time to shut down the hormones and get to work before she turned into a Brittany. “Water for me, please.”
Ethan reached into the refrigerator and let the cool blast wash over him. Like it actually made a dent in his overheated body temp.
He’d already had enough. Frustration churned through him and he still had two more weeks left shut up in a suddenly too-damned-small apartment conjugating German verbs with Kelly.
He wanted to pick a fight, feel something other than this damned destructive need to lead Kelly into his bedroom and discover how the stars shining through his skylight would play on her pale skin.
Ethan waggled a bottle at her and pressed. “It’s imported.”
“I’m working. And it’s from the supermarket. I can see the sticker on the six-pack carrier from here.”
“Busted.” He swapped one beer for bottled water, keeping the other long-neck in hand. He carried the food up the stairs, past his room and up to the open loft. Kelly didn’t even acknowledge his presence, instead presenting him with a view of her back. Her hair shimmered half way down only to be captured by the back of the chair.
Lucky chair.
He ached to gather up a fistful of that hair, see it spread over his pillow in stark contrast to silver-gray sheets. Tension wound tighter within him.
He slammed the tray on the stretch of desk between their workstations and grabbed his beer. Kicking back in his chair, he tipped the bottle for a long drag.
Kelly’s fingers never hesitated on the keyboard, but her mouth pulled tight. Even pinched, her lips tempted him to tease them to fullness again. Ethan nursed another swig off his bottle while watching her through amber glass.
She shot a disdainful sniff his way.
He rolled the bottle between his palms. “You might stillbe on the clock, but I’m finished. I’m tired and I’m sore since someone beat me up today.”
“Poor baby.”
Ethan’s face twitched with a grin. He liked that most about her, the way she never seemed impressed with him, always called his bluff. More than once she’d booted his butt off her desk, chewing him out for wrinkling a report. He didn’t excel at being there for other people and the thought of letting Kelly down soured the beer in his mouth.
This wasn’t the sort of job for Kelly if she turned prim at controversy and boundary pushing. He raised his bottle to the light. “You know, this is nothing. One time I was undercover to bust an arms-selling ring down in Central America. Late one night, the guy was so close to talking, but he kept pouring rotgut tequila shots. If I didn’t toss ’em back, he would have walked. Christ, I could hardly see straight, and I’d dumped half of mine on the floor. But the recorder worked, and I knew I could shoot straight even in my sleep—no offense.”
“None taken,” she answered without pausing or looking up.
He nudged the tray toward her. “Eat before you drop.”
She shrugged and snagged a grape from the fruit bowl.
He couldn’t condemn her for not understanding. What sort of life had she led to prepare her for this anyway? “Hey, Kel, is there a reason anyone would be following you?”
Her eyes snapped up to him.
She pulled a napkin off the tray and shook it out with exaggerated care. “No. You’ve probably guessed that I lead a pretty tame life.
“Prepare to feast.” Ethan kicked the door shut again and set the tray on the kitchenette table.
Kelly hooked her arm on the back of her chair and looked down onto the too-intimate dining setup. It was just dinner, she told herself and started to stand.
An image of Brittany’s face doused those thoughts.
Kelly sunk back into her chair. “How about bringing it up here so we can keep working?”
“Hatch doesn’t pay overtime, you know.” Ethan reached into the refrigerator and pulled out two long-neck bottles.
Alcohol and Ethan at the same time? Unwise.
She needed to keep her inhibitions firmly in place around him. Time to shut down the hormones and get to work before she turned into a Brittany. “Water for me, please.”
Ethan reached into the refrigerator and let the cool blast wash over him. Like it actually made a dent in his overheated body temp.
He’d already had enough. Frustration churned through him and he still had two more weeks left shut up in a suddenly too-damned-small apartment conjugating German verbs with Kelly.
He wanted to pick a fight, feel something other than this damned destructive need to lead Kelly into his bedroom and discover how the stars shining through his skylight would play on her pale skin.
Ethan waggled a bottle at her and pressed. “It’s imported.”
“I’m working. And it’s from the supermarket. I can see the sticker on the six-pack carrier from here.”
“Busted.” He swapped one beer for bottled water, keeping the other long-neck in hand. He carried the food up the stairs, past his room and up to the open loft. Kelly didn’t even acknowledge his presence, instead presenting him with a view of her back. Her hair shimmered half way down only to be captured by the back of the chair.
Lucky chair.
He ached to gather up a fistful of that hair, see it spread over his pillow in stark contrast to silver-gray sheets. Tension wound tighter within him.
He slammed the tray on the stretch of desk between their workstations and grabbed his beer. Kicking back in his chair, he tipped the bottle for a long drag.
Kelly’s fingers never hesitated on the keyboard, but her mouth pulled tight. Even pinched, her lips tempted him to tease them to fullness again. Ethan nursed another swig off his bottle while watching her through amber glass.
She shot a disdainful sniff his way.
He rolled the bottle between his palms. “You might stillbe on the clock, but I’m finished. I’m tired and I’m sore since someone beat me up today.”
“Poor baby.”
Ethan’s face twitched with a grin. He liked that most about her, the way she never seemed impressed with him, always called his bluff. More than once she’d booted his butt off her desk, chewing him out for wrinkling a report. He didn’t excel at being there for other people and the thought of letting Kelly down soured the beer in his mouth.
This wasn’t the sort of job for Kelly if she turned prim at controversy and boundary pushing. He raised his bottle to the light. “You know, this is nothing. One time I was undercover to bust an arms-selling ring down in Central America. Late one night, the guy was so close to talking, but he kept pouring rotgut tequila shots. If I didn’t toss ’em back, he would have walked. Christ, I could hardly see straight, and I’d dumped half of mine on the floor. But the recorder worked, and I knew I could shoot straight even in my sleep—no offense.”
“None taken,” she answered without pausing or looking up.
He nudged the tray toward her. “Eat before you drop.”
She shrugged and snagged a grape from the fruit bowl.
He couldn’t condemn her for not understanding. What sort of life had she led to prepare her for this anyway? “Hey, Kel, is there a reason anyone would be following you?”
Her eyes snapped up to him.
She pulled a napkin off the tray and shook it out with exaggerated care. “No. You’ve probably guessed that I lead a pretty tame life.
Similar Books
