Read Online Wicked Nights by Anne Marsh - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Anne Marsh
Tags: <div><p></p><p>Winner takes it all...off </p><p>Former diving champion Piper Clark never loses. Unfortunately, if she doesn't land this lucrative contract, her diving business will fail. Worse still, it will be at the hands of her childhood nemesis, Cal Brennan--six feet of hard, rugged former Navy SEAL. So Piper proposes a wager: whoever loses the diving contract must take orders from the winner...in bed. </p><p>Cal needs this contract for his own reasons. A former rescue swimmer, he may be having a few issues with diving since his last mission ended, but Piper doesn't need to know that. Something about her impulsive nature makes Cal rise to the bait, and there's nothing he'd like more than to show Piper exactly what rules are good for. </p><p>All bets are on. And someone's about to start playing dirty....</p></div>
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and her libido nodded
along happily. Darn it. This was not supposed to be happening. She wasn’t supposed to be feeling anything
for Cal other than a little friendly competition. She didn’t need things to change.
“Definitely ignoring me.” Warm male hands cupped her shoulders, halting her in her tracks. A little zing
shot through her as his breath gusted past her ear.
“Apparently, I’m not succeeding.” She reached for the door, but he beat her to it.
“You’re losing the battle,” he agreed cheerfully and pushed the door open, motioning her to go through
first.
She considered standing there on the sidewalk, but Cal was stubborn. Since he had the door open, he’d
probably stand there until hell froze over or she walked away. And walking away meant giving up on the
contract, which wasn’t happening, either.
She brushed past him into the hotel, trying to ignore the way the accidental touch brought the hard
muscles of his arm to her attention. The door slammed shut behind her, and Cal fell into step beside her,
easily matching her pace. Of course, he wasn’t wearing heels.
“I take it this means you don’t want to talk about last night.”
She made a shut-up-now gesture, because, hello, they were in the hotel’s very public lobby, and they
both had to live on the island. She knew Cal’s mother. Amy Brennan loved her sons, Cal included, but she
also lived to see them married off and reproducing. Cal was the most stubborn holdout of her three sons, so
if Mrs. Brennan believed there was any chance Piper and Cal were getting together... Nope. Not happening.
Piper was still hoping no photographic evidence of last night’s embrace would show up on Facebook.
“You kissed me,” Cal pointed out cheerfully, punching the button for the elevator. He looked down at
her feet. “I assume we’re not taking the stairs, since you’re wearing those shoes.”
“What’s wrong with my shoes?”
“Absolutely nothing,” he said. “But I am wondering how you manage to walk in them. Doesn’t your
knee bother you?”
She wasn’t talking about her knee. “My knee is none of your business,” she gritted out. The hotel had to
have the slowest elevators known to humankind. She’d take the stairs, but Cal was, of course, right. Her
feet hurt, her knee throbbed, and if it had been anything other than a business meeting, she’d have toed off
the shoes and swapped them for the flip-flops in her tote bag.
“Actually, your knee kind of is my business.”
The elevator dinged, the doors slid open and she limped inside. Unfortunately, like always, Cal was
right on her heels. He held the door with one large hand and then reached around her to press the button for
the third floor.
The doors shut, making her uncomfortably aware the space was too small for the both of them. Plus, all
her elevator fantasies rushed unbidden to the forefront of her head.
Cal filled up all the available space, big and sure, but she still wasn’t discussing her knee with him.
After all, every possible angle of the injury had already been discussed in the national media. When it had
become clear she wouldn’t be resuming her platform-diving career, the media had run stories about the
accident and her broken dreams. She preferred not to relive those moments.
Move ahead.
Don’t look back.
If she could change that day, she would. But life didn’t pass out do overs, and Cal had saved her life.
The truth rankled, if she was being honest. She’d always stood on her own two feet, always pulled herself
out of the water, no matter how hard or badly she hit. Except for that one afternoon when she’d needed Cal
to do it. Of course, there were worse things than having to say thank you. Things like being dead. So even
if she wished she’d gotten herself out of trouble, she still appreciated everything Cal had done.
“Third floor?” she asked, ignoring the fact that since he’d punched the button, it was clearly
along happily. Darn it. This was not supposed to be happening. She wasn’t supposed to be feeling anything
for Cal other than a little friendly competition. She didn’t need things to change.
“Definitely ignoring me.” Warm male hands cupped her shoulders, halting her in her tracks. A little zing
shot through her as his breath gusted past her ear.
“Apparently, I’m not succeeding.” She reached for the door, but he beat her to it.
“You’re losing the battle,” he agreed cheerfully and pushed the door open, motioning her to go through
first.
She considered standing there on the sidewalk, but Cal was stubborn. Since he had the door open, he’d
probably stand there until hell froze over or she walked away. And walking away meant giving up on the
contract, which wasn’t happening, either.
She brushed past him into the hotel, trying to ignore the way the accidental touch brought the hard
muscles of his arm to her attention. The door slammed shut behind her, and Cal fell into step beside her,
easily matching her pace. Of course, he wasn’t wearing heels.
“I take it this means you don’t want to talk about last night.”
She made a shut-up-now gesture, because, hello, they were in the hotel’s very public lobby, and they
both had to live on the island. She knew Cal’s mother. Amy Brennan loved her sons, Cal included, but she
also lived to see them married off and reproducing. Cal was the most stubborn holdout of her three sons, so
if Mrs. Brennan believed there was any chance Piper and Cal were getting together... Nope. Not happening.
Piper was still hoping no photographic evidence of last night’s embrace would show up on Facebook.
“You kissed me,” Cal pointed out cheerfully, punching the button for the elevator. He looked down at
her feet. “I assume we’re not taking the stairs, since you’re wearing those shoes.”
“What’s wrong with my shoes?”
“Absolutely nothing,” he said. “But I am wondering how you manage to walk in them. Doesn’t your
knee bother you?”
She wasn’t talking about her knee. “My knee is none of your business,” she gritted out. The hotel had to
have the slowest elevators known to humankind. She’d take the stairs, but Cal was, of course, right. Her
feet hurt, her knee throbbed, and if it had been anything other than a business meeting, she’d have toed off
the shoes and swapped them for the flip-flops in her tote bag.
“Actually, your knee kind of is my business.”
The elevator dinged, the doors slid open and she limped inside. Unfortunately, like always, Cal was
right on her heels. He held the door with one large hand and then reached around her to press the button for
the third floor.
The doors shut, making her uncomfortably aware the space was too small for the both of them. Plus, all
her elevator fantasies rushed unbidden to the forefront of her head.
Cal filled up all the available space, big and sure, but she still wasn’t discussing her knee with him.
After all, every possible angle of the injury had already been discussed in the national media. When it had
become clear she wouldn’t be resuming her platform-diving career, the media had run stories about the
accident and her broken dreams. She preferred not to relive those moments.
Move ahead.
Don’t look back.
If she could change that day, she would. But life didn’t pass out do overs, and Cal had saved her life.
The truth rankled, if she was being honest. She’d always stood on her own two feet, always pulled herself
out of the water, no matter how hard or badly she hit. Except for that one afternoon when she’d needed Cal
to do it. Of course, there were worse things than having to say thank you. Things like being dead. So even
if she wished she’d gotten herself out of trouble, she still appreciated everything Cal had done.
“Third floor?” she asked, ignoring the fact that since he’d punched the button, it was clearly
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