Read Online There's Something About a Rebel- by Anne Oliver - Free Book Online Page A

twenty-three-year-old virgins were there these days?
    Was she keeping it for Mr Right? Or was it because she hadn’t she found a guy with enough power and vigour to light her fire? He preferred the latter. He was no woman’s Mr Right and he’d already glimpsed the smouldering evidence in her eyes.
    He drummed restless fingers on the desk. Trouble with virgins was they attached too much emotion to the sexual act and the last thing he needed was an emotional female who expected more. He had a gut feeling Lissa would be a woman who expected that ‘more’.
    She was Jared’s sister. Getting physical with a mate’s sister was one thing, but when said sister was a virgin? No way. No how. Out of bounds.
    He needed to remember their agreement and maintain his focus on the goals they’d set and his hands off her body.
    Her vivacious, voluptuous,
virginal
body.
    His gaze flicked to the Titian-haired reclining nude in a Pre-Raphaelite original painting, titled ‘Chastity’, on the wall and wondered vaguely why his father hadn’t tried to sell it. Had to be worth a quid.
    Disturbed by the maidenly beauty and its similarity to a certain redhead, he averted his eyes and glared at the computer screen. Perhaps he and Deanna could have a drink later, catch up on old times.
    He thought about the six-foot-tall blonde who’d won the Miss Sunshine Contest at seventeen when he’d been a gangly star-struck sixteen. Maybe he could suggest they … what?
    On an oath, he shut down his computer. The thing was … the
mystery
was … he had a churn-in-the-gut feeling that no woman was going to take the edge off his need unless that woman was Lissa. The sooner he had the business plans drawn up and boat repaired, the better off it would—
    Lissa’s ear-piercing shriek from out back had him shoving out of his chair and bounding for the door.
    Lissa stared in numb disbelief at the empty space where the houseboat had been only moments ago. ‘Oh, my God, oh, my God.’ She’d yelled until her vocal cords had given out and now she couldn’t seem to raise her voice above a murmur. Her legs felt like spaghetti and every vital organ within her body was twisting and churning.
    This was a mistake. A dream—a
nightmare.
    She heard the back door slide open. Heard a muttered series of harsh four-letter expletives, then Blake’s heavy footsteps sprinting along the path.
    The steps slowed, stopped behind her. She didn’t turn around. Her eyes were riveted on the swirling water, a gurgling liquidy sound and the rectangular shape disappearing beneath the surface. ‘No!’
    ‘Lissa.’ Firm hands gripped her shoulders. ‘It’s going to be okay.’
    She watched bubbles stream to the surface as her home sank deeper and blurred and felt herself start to shake uncontrollably.
‘Going to be okay?
Going to be okay? My boat, my home, my whole life. Gone. And you’re telling me it’s
okay?’
Her hands flew to her face. ‘Why didn’t you tell me how bad it was? Why didn’t you
insist
I pack up everything last night?’
    She hated being told what to do so
why was she blaming another person for her mistakes?
    ‘We saved your all-important samples, that’s—’
    ‘My clothes!’ she shrieked again. ‘I’ve lost all my clothes!’ Then they both stared in silence as a pale amorphous shape drifted up from the murky depths. Two small mounds popped onto the surface like mini desert islands.
    ‘Well, maybe not all,’ he murmured, and dropped to his knees, leaned down and plucked her buttercup bra out of the water.
    ‘Oh … shut up! I hate you!’ Vaguely, her mind registered that under normal circumstances the sight of his tanned long fingers on her most intimate of garments would have thrilled her, but right now all she felt was the burn of humiliation.
    She snatched it out of his grasp. She couldn’t look at him. Her eyes were stinging and deep inside she was very afraid she was coming apart and was disgusted with herself for that weakness. Why,