The Naughty List Bundle - Kylie Adams [90]
Her mouth fell open and she stared at him.
“How much do you want?” he asked, forcing the words out through his teeth.
“You’re not serious.”
“Why not?” He felt goaded and angry and out of control. He absolutely hated it. “You’d use Jordan, taking his infatuation with you to finagle a job. Well, why not use me instead? Hell, at least I know what I’m getting into. So name a price.”
Her lips pinched shut, her eyes narrowed and an angry blush rose from her neck up. Then, as he watched, she gathered herself, and anger was replaced by deliberate belligerence. “Hmm, well now, I know what it was Jordan wanted in exchange for the job. But…exactly what would you expect in return for cash, Morgan? Or do I even need to ask?”
Her innuendo goaded his temper, but more than that, it stirred his desire for her, sending him right over the edge. He broke out in a sweat, his gut clenched, his body hardened. He reached for her, not even sure himself what he would do once he had hold of her. But she surprised him by her reaction. She leaped to her feet with a gasp. The coffee mug fell from her hand to the soft ground with a dull thud, spilling the coffee and rolling a few feet away. Misty covered her mouth with both hands. Her face was pale, and she swayed.
Morgan stood also and caught her to him, ignoring her feeble struggles. “Damn it, are you all right?” He shook her slightly, his alarm growing. “What the hell is wrong with you? Answer me, Malone.”
Staring at him in horror, she opened her eyes wide and then pushed away, ran several feet to a line of bushes and dropped to her knees.
Morgan was dumbfounded. He started after her, but halted when he heard the unmistakable sound of retching. Never had he felt like such a complete and utter ass. He’d been harassing her again, when that hadn’t been his intent at all. He’d argued with her after telling her he wouldn’t. And she was sick. He made a false start toward her, then pulled back, as uncertain of what to do as he’d been on his very first date.
He’d hated the feeling then; at thirty-four, he hated it even more.
She probably drank too much last night, he thought, staring at her slim back as she jerked and shuddered. Some people just couldn’t hold their liquor—though he didn’t remember seeing her imbibe. Mostly she’d just danced and laughed and driven him crazy with an inferno of lust.
When she was done being sick, sitting there on her knees on the damp ground, her arms wrapped around her stomach, he inched closer. He felt totally out of his element, not quite sure what to say or do. But he knew he had to do something. She kept her back to him, no doubt mortified. He knew women could be unaccountably funny about such things. Finally, feeling like a fool, he knelt behind her. “You want me to go get you something to drink?”
She moaned and clutched herself a little tighter. “Just…go…away.”
Morgan hesitated, then lifted one hand to her shoulder, gently rubbing. Touching her made him feel immeasurably better, whether it did anything for her or not. “I bet Sawyer has something he could give you for the hangover.”
She laughed, a raw, broken sound that was close to a moan. “A hangover, Morgan? When I didn’t drink a single drop?”
Way off base with that one, obviously. He nodded. “Okay, not a hangover.”
She shook her head, and more silky strands of midnight hair escaped her rubber band to curl around her cheeks. A few tangled in the armature of her glasses, and he gently pulled them away.
Without looking at him, she said, “You always think the worst of me, don’t you?”
He didn’t know what to say to that.
“I should be used to it. God knows, men always…Oh, just go away.” Her voice was thin, washed out; she sounded too tired to argue.
He couldn’t stop his deep frown or his concern. “If you’re sick, then—”
Her hands fisted on her thighs in a sudden startling display of frustration. Still without looking at him, she hissed, “Damn it, why can’t you just leave me alone?”
He wouldn’t let her rile him again. “Look, Malone, my mother would skin my hide if I left a sick woman wallowing