Read Online The Sweetest Deal by Mary Campisi - Free Book Online Page A

refused to think about the bulge in his pants. The woman had him on a roller coaster; one minute she made him mad as hell, and the next, she sighed and strung a few silly words together, and zing , he wanted to kiss her.
    Time to execute his plan. Max pushed aside the twinges of guilt that clung to what used to be his conscience. Grayson had been very clear about the deal—no strings attached. If Max didn’t act soon, he might run the risk of actually falling for C.C.
    Then what?
    He already found himself fantasizing about her spread out on his bed, dark hair spilling over the pillow, pale skin warm from their lovemaking. Her belly filled with his child. Her father said she wanted a baby and he intended to give her one. They’d both get what they wanted, and nothing more. Neither of them wanted anything more.
    ***
    C.C. tried to snuggle deeper into the warm cocoon and burrowed right against a hard moving wall. “Where am I?”
    “Shhh. We’re in the elevator.”
    “Oh.” She snuggled back against the moving wall. “Okay.” Moments or hours later, the cocoon disappeared, the wall stopped moving and she was on her back. She inched her eyes open and tried to focus. “Max?”
    “Hey.”
    His voice sounded strained. Was something wrong? She started to sit up but a wave of dizziness flattened her.
    “Stay still. You should try to rest.”
    “What happened?”
    “You fell asleep.”
    “Fell asleep?” Her head pounded when she spoke.
    “Okay,” he hedged, his expression grim, “passed out.”
    “Passed out?” Oh, if only the throbbing would stop. “I passed out? Where?”
    “Here. On the bed.”
    “Oh.” She reached under the covers. No suit, no stockings, no necklace.
    Max cleared his throat. “I hung up your clothes.”
    “Thanks.” He’d seen the black lace bra and panties. He’d seen the garter belt.
    “No problem.”
    “Did I,” she hesitated, “do anything else?”
    It was his turn to hesitate. “Nope. You were the perfect date.”
    That could mean anything. “It wasn’t a date.” She closed her eyes, blinked hard and pressed her fingers against her temples. “My mouth feels like a triple-size cotton ball.”
    “You threw up,” he said matter-of-factly.
    “What?” If that were true she willed the bed to open up and swallow her whole.
    “Twice. Right after you tried to seduce me.”
    ***
    When someone knocked on Max’s door late Saturday morning, he assumed it would be C.C. come to interrogate him about last evening. The woman must be hung over and mortified. He’d enjoyed the look on her face when he told her she’d been sick and had tried to seduce him. Okay, maybe seduce was a little strong, but she’d definitely thrown her arms around him and pressed her delicious body much too close to his.
    And the throwing up part, well, Tanqueray and tonic as a main course could do that to a person.
    He’d torture her a little before accepting her apology; payback for the restless night she’d given him. How was a man to sleep with visions of lace and flesh and garters dancing in his head? Max pulled open the door, hiding the beginnings of a smile. This was going to be fun.
    He froze when he saw the woman standing on the other side of the threshold.
    “Hello, Max.” Candy Monroe breezed past him in a flash of red and black, her stilettos sinking in the plush carpet with each stride.
    “Candy? What are you doing here?”
    She glanced at the unmade bed and shook her head. “You never did like making the bed.” Max cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his back pockets. Why couldn’t C.C. have been the one at the door?
    Candy scanned the rumpled sheets, tilting her head from side to side, as though trying to determine what had taken place there. “Are you sleeping with her?”
    “What?”
    “Catherine. Please tell me you aren’t.”
    “No!” And then with less force, “No, I’m not.”
    “Don’t do it, Max.” She moved toward him, her red sweater clinging to her perfect