Cowboy to Command
Page 26
Try? She braced her hands on the desk and scowled at him. “Go through your little black book. Invite some friends who might be interested.”
He pushed back his chair and stood. “You’re asking for a lot.”
“Am I? Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Asking that you invite some friends to a party?”
“It’s a party for women.”
“There you go. You have horny friends, don’t you?” Her tone underpinned the old adage that birds of a feather flocked together and for some reason he looked wounded. She didn’t care.
His beautiful features firmed. He eyed her with a sharp consideration that made her teeth clench. “And what do I get in return? For this . . . favor?”
His tone made the tiny hairs on her nape prickle. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Will you?”
She narrowed her eyes. “What do you want?”
“I think you know.”
She leaped to her feet. “Forget it. I am not sleeping with you.”
His smirk was so annoying she wanted to smack it off his too-pretty face. “Did I ask you to sleep with me?”
“Then what?” A snap.
He shrugged and arranged his features into an innocent mien, one he’d perfected after years of practice. “A kiss. That’s all I want.”
She gaped at him. “A kiss?”
“Just a kiss. But a real one. You know what I mean.”
“Fine. Come here.”
He laughed. It was low and rumbling and arrogant and annoying as hell. “Not now. Later.”
“Later?”
“At a time of my choosing.”
Oh hell. He was even more aggravating than she remembered. “Fine.”
“You agree to my terms?”
She shot him what she hoped was a scorching glare. “Yes.”
“Excellent.” He stood and collected her copy of the agreement and handed it to her and then, to her consternation, followed her out to her car.
She had a little trouble walking on the gravel in her heels. Surely she hadn’t worn them in case she ran into him. Surely she hadn’t remembered how much le loved a woman in heels. She wanted nothing to do with him. Nothing whatsoever.
She hated that the prospect of kissing him made her belly warm, but she knew it was purely physical attraction and nothing more. Because of all the men in the world, Cody Silver was the last man she would want to be with. Any interaction with him was bound to end with her heart shattered in pieces on the floor, and she refused to let that happen to herself ever again.
She was so focused on her determination to avoid becoming entangled with him again, that she plowed right into him as he stopped by her car. Her ankle turned and, with a terrifying crack, her heel snapped and she fell.
He caught her.
There wasn’t even a moment to reflect on how good it felt to be held by those strong arms before his mouth came down on hers. Warm, hot, demanding.
You’d think, after ten years of hating him, she would have a modicum of resistance left in reserves. She did not.
To her horror, she found herself instantly sucked into the passion, the delirium of his kiss. God, he tasted good. So good. Her mind stopped working and her body took over.
She fisted her fingers in his hair and held him as he ravaged her mouth, nibbled on her lips and stroked her body.
It was mortifying that she seemed to have no will whatsoever.
When he lifted his head and grinned at her—an irritating, vexing smirk—a hard ball formed in her belly. He was too damn arrogant for his own good.
“That was nice,” he said.
Nice?
Bastard.
She wrenched herself out of his arms and teetered before him. “I hope you enjoyed your kiss.”
“Oh no.” He grinned again. Dimples blossomed on his cheek. “That was not my kiss.”
Heat churned in her belly. “What?”
“That was your kiss.”
Fury raked her. Ripples skittered over her scalp. “What?”
“You’re the one who instigated that kiss.”
“I most certainly did not.”
“You threw yourself at me.”
“You are delusional.”
“Really?” Another smirk. “What was it then?”
She reached down and pulled off her broken shoe and waved it under his nose. “I fell.”
He pursed his lips. “Seriously Sidney? That old chestnut?”
“My. Shoe. Broke.”
“I see that. But I’ve had women sabotage their shoes before . . . so they could fall into my arms.”
Oh. Good. Glory.
He was, without exception, the most self-absorbed, egotistical douche canoe on the planet.
Without a word, she whirled away, hobbled to her car and tossed the damned shoe into the back seat. And then, without so much as a glare in his direction, hopped into her Mustang and sped away in a plume of dust.
God help her.
She couldn’t escape from his presence fast enough.
And she couldn’t shake the looming suspicion that she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life, coming to Cody Silver for help.
Sabrina York is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over twenty-five novels, which range from sweet and snarky to scorching romance.
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