Read Wicked Nights Online

Authors: Anne Marsh

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Winner takes it all...off

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.

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.

All bets are on. And someone's about to start playing dirty....

Wicked Nights (29 page)

“Hi.” Eva stepped forward, her hand out. “I’m Chris’s sister, Eva.”

“Uh-huh.” He continued to peer at his phone, reading intently.

“The woman you’re going to marry. We’ll have beautiful children. I’m thinking five or six. We should

get started on that soon, since I’m already twenty-eight.”

He lifted his head suddenly. Their eyes locked. Well, hers locked. He kind of glanced at her, then did a

double take, like,
What are you looking at?
“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Nothing important.” She smiled sweetly, held out her hand again.
Just concerning the rest of our lives

together. Or, more likely, the rest of the month.
“You were busy.”

He made a sound of frustration. “Sometimes I’m not sure if I own the phone or it owns me.”

“What’s your name?” She’d bet this was—

“Ames Cooke.”

Yup. The pain in Chris’s lucky ass. The entitled, arrogant rich boy, who Chris had neglected to mention

was devastatingly sexy.

Was he cocky businessman through and through? He certainly looked the part, but there was that gold

stud glinting in one ear, and his slightly spiked hair. She was already thinking maybe a tattoo in a hidden

place.

A place she couldn’t wait to discover.

“You visiting?” Ames was looking around, undoubtedly still hoping Chris would emerge from the back

of the shop.

“I’m taking over for Chris for a month.”

His attention zoomed back to her. “Chris? What’s wrong? Where is she?”

Look how nice of him to be concerned. A thoughtful guy. “She’s at my place in California. We switched

lives for a month.”

“You switched—” Ames was clearly having trouble processing that one. But maybe the fact that his

supposed beloved had left town without letting him know would help him understand that he and Chris

were not destined to be together forever.

Whereas he and Eva...

At least for a month.

“Well, crap.” He stared forlornly at the flowers, a stunning and almost laughably huge bouquet of pink

roses, burgundy and white alstroemeria, white tulips, freesia and God knew what else.

“You could take them back to the shop. Or leave them here.” Eva gestured around. “A little color and

life wouldn’t hurt.”

“Oh.” He stared as if he’d forgotten her. “Yeah, okay.”

“Thank you.” She took the vase into her arms as if she were cradling a baby and beamed at him. “So

what are you doing tonight, Ames?”

As she expected, he looked startled, glanced at his watch, face reddening slightly. “I’m due at... I’m... I

have...”

“Wow. That sounds fabulous.”

He laughed in surprise.

“I just arrived today from California, so I’m going to take it easy tonight.” She put the vase on the

counter over the pastry. “Maybe order takeout, because I hear you can get anything delivered in this city.”

“True.”

She threw him a flirty look over her shoulder. “Even you?”

“Even me what?”

“If I was home bored and wanted company, could I order
you
for delivery?”

“I don’t...” He took a step back. “That is...”

Eva waved dismissively and moved the vase farther down the counter. “Don’t worry, I was only flirting.

Cup of coffee on the house?”

“Uh.” He laughed uncertainly. “Actually, I’m—”

“Jinx.” She inclined her head toward the barista. “Give this man whatever he wants.”

“Okay.” Jinx stared coolly at Ames. “What’ll it be?”

“Hmm?” Ames was lost in poking at his cell again. “Uh...a red eye. Room at the top. To go.”

Eva took half a step closer to him. “We call those hammerheads in California.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She grinned at him. He was so adorable and so innocently unaware of the nights of hot sex

that lay in store for him over the next month—and possibly forever. “And in the upper Midwest, where I

grew up, it’s called a depth charge.”

“Okay.”

Eva folded her arms across her chest. “So what do you do in this fabulous city, Ames?”

He muttered something, jabbing away at the little letters.

“Ames.” Eva put her hand on his arm and pushed gently down.

“Huh?” He looked up at her. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

“I asked what you do in New York.”

“I’m sales manager for Boyce Wines, a distributor based here in New York. We import from exclusive

small family vineyards in Italy and France.”

“Cool job. So you know a ton about wine.”

“I guess.” He shrugged and put his cell in his pocket, staring at her curiously. “Do you?”

“Just coffee.” She took another step toward him, caught a whiff of his fresh masculine aftershave.

“How did you get into that?”

“Dad owns a wine shop.”

“Yeah? Where?”

“New Jersey.” He edged toward the pickup area of the counter. “Are you this nosy with all your

customers?”

“Nosy?” She sent him an odd look. “In California we call this conversation. They don’t do that here?”

“Sorry.” He had the grace to look embarrassed. “Been a tough day. So, California, huh?”

“Central Coast.” She tipped her head, smiling alluringly. “Good wine country.”

“Absolutely.”

“Red eye. Room at the top.” Jinx plunked the container on the counter.

“Sorry about your tough day.” Eva folded her arms. “Want to talk about it?”

“I’m sure you have business to do.” He reached for the cup.

“If I did, would I be offering to talk to you?”

“Ah.” Ames rolled his eyes, smiling. “You
are
Chris’s sister, after all. Or at least you have her sharp

reflexes.”

“Thank you.” Eva frowned at the flowers, beautiful but oddly old-fashioned on the severe counter, as if

the only flowers appropriate to the space would be square. “Have you ever meditated?”

“Uh. No. Listen, it was nice to—”

“It’s great on a stressful day. You should totally try it.”

“Mmm, not interested. Thanks.”

“Doesn’t hurt to try.” She touched a spot on his forehead just above his brows, where Buddhists

believed the third eye existed. He froze in horror, staring up at her finger, which made him sort of cross-

eyed, but still incredibly sexy. Eva willed him to look at her, which he did, proving they had a deep

connection. Or that he felt like looking at her just then. Their eyes held—both sets that time—and the

adrenaline thrill was so strong she could barely get herself to continue. “It’s amazing how calm and peaceful

you can feel, while at the same time energized and clear. It’s so different from how we usually operate,

rushing around coping with external stuff and worries, ignoring our instincts.”

He blinked. “Uh, yeah.”

“And...” She lowered her voice, drew her finger down the bridge of his very fine nose. “Meditating is

also a very sensuous experience. You hear and see and feel and taste and touch the world in a whole new

way when your mind is at peace.”

The very delicious Ames swallowed audibly, then took a sudden step back, glancing at his watch.

“Listen, thanks for the coffee. I really need to go.”

“Sure, sure. You don’t want to be late for your whatever.” Somehow she kept her lips from twitching.

“It was nice meeting you.”

“Yeah. Same here.” He turned and headed for the door.

“Ames!”

He turned reluctantly back, looking annoyed. “What?”

Eva pointed to the milk, sugar and stir station. “Room in your cup?”

“Oh. Right.” He strode over and splashed milk into his coffee, jammed on a lid and rushed out of the

shop.

She watched him go, hugging her hoodie around herself, a smile playing on her lips. What an amazing

day this had turned out to be. She’d met her next true love, Ames Cooke, who didn’t seem to realize they

were meant to be.

The poor guy wasn’t going to know what hit him.

Copyright © 2014 by Muna Shehadi Sill

ISBN-13: 9781460340363

WICKED NIGHTS

Copyright © 2014 by Anne Marsh

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