Harlequin KISS August 2014 Bundle

by Amy Andrews, Aimee Carson, Avril Tremayne

  Stunned, she stared at him blankly.

  Hunter patiently continued to hold out the ring and said dryly, “I half expected you to show up and request membership at the boxing gym I use.”

  He almost sounded disappointed she hadn’t.

  Feeling more confident, she smiled and held out her hand for the gag gift. “If I’d known you frequented such a facility I’d—” He placed the ring in her palm, warm fingers brushing her skin, and the electric current upped her prickly awareness of him by a billion watts. Her traitorous voice turned a tad husky. “I’d have been there.”

  “I suspect you would have,” he murmured.

  Carly had the feeling the man was noticing, cataloguing and storing away every detail about her. To what dark purpose she had no idea. The thought sent an illicit shimmer of excitement down her spine. Trapped in his gaze, Carly struggled for a response, but Brian O’Connor spared her the effort, announcing they were cutting to commercial.

  During the break, Hunter leaned closer. “Why are you chasing me down, Ms. Wolfe?”

  The confidential conversation emboldened her, and she lifted her chin. “To get you to publically admit your mean-spirited app sucks.”

  He cocked his head in caution. “You’ll be waiting a long time.”

  She ignored his response. “Eventually—” her smile held zero warmth “—I’m going to get you to pull it off the market so no one else has to suffer.”

  “I’m curious...” His lethally secretive smile returned. “How much of your body will you expose for your cause?”

  Clearly he was trying to get her riled. She fought to maintain her cool. “Which parts would prove most effective?”

  “I’m open to suggestions.”

  “My middle finger, perhaps?”

  “I prefer rounder...” his eyes skimmed her breasts, leaving her sizzling “...softer parts.” His gaze returned to her lips. “Though your sharp tongue holds a certain appeal.”

  She considered sticking her tongue out at him until his eyes returned to hers—seemingly unaffected, still unerringly focused, and full of a dangerous warning that left her breathless.

  Fortunately the host announced the end of the commercial. Desperate for oxygen, and a break from Hunter’s maddening effect on her body, she tore her gaze from him back to Brian O’Connor as he addressed her.

  “Now that you have Hunter’s attention,” the host said, “what would you like to say?”

  Go to hell came to mind. Unfortunately this wasn’t cable—no swearing allowed.

  But if she couldn’t speak her mind, she could at least get him to face the music—off-key notes and all. “On behalf of all those affected, I’d like to thank you personally for the creation of The Ditchinator and the message it sends: ‘It’s over, babe.’” In keeping with their interaction to date, she lifted an eyebrow that was outwardly flirtatious but heavy with biting subtext. “You’re quite the poet.”

  “You’re easily impressed.”

  “It must have taken you hours to compose.”

  Hunter looked as if he wanted to smile. Whether despite her insult or because of it she wasn’t sure. “Only a few seconds, actually. But at least it’s short and to the point.”

  “Oh, it’s extremely pointy, all right,” she said. She twisted on the love seat to face her opponent more directly, refusing to let him get an outward rise out of her. “But what makes the experience super-fun is the bulk email the Ditchinator sends, notifying friends and social network followers that you’re now single and available.” Her smile turned overly sweet. “Nice feature.”

  “I thought so,” he said, as if she was being serious. But Hunter Philips was the sort of man who didn’t miss a thing, not with that disturbingly calculated gaze that bored into hers.

  “It certainly is a time-saver,” the host said, clearly trying to rejoin the discussion.

  Hunter’s intense focus remained on Carly. “I admire efficiency.”

  “I’m sure you do,” she said.

  “It’s a fast-paced world we live in,” Hunter returned.

  “Perhaps too fast,” she said, aware they were still shutting Brian O’Connor out. Hunter wasn’t playing nice with the host. She doubted he ever played nice. And she was too engrossed in this visual and verbal duel to care.

  “Care to hear my favorite feature of your app?” She threw her arm across the back of the couch and leaned closer. His woodsy scent filled her senses. “The extensive list of songs to choose from to accompany the message.”

  The host chimed in. “The one I’d hate to be on the receiving end of is Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker,” he said with an exaggerated shiver, clearly for the benefit of an amused audience.

  She looked past Hunter to address Brian O’Connor, her tone laden with sarcasm. “Mr. Philips is very clever, isn’t he?” Her eyes crash-landed back on Mr. Ditchinator.

  “Hunter,” the man insisted, his gaze trained on her. “And your ex-boyfriend’s choice of songs?”

  “It was an extra-special title. ‘How Can I Miss You When You Won’t Go Away?’”

  Though the audience gasped and snickered, Hunter Philips didn’t register the musical slight, and Brian O’Connor said, “Obscure. But effectively rude.”

  “Which leaves me curious as to why Ms. Wolfe is using her column in the Miami Insider to target me,” Hunter said.

  Hunter faced Carly again. Though braced for the impact, she felt the force of his gaze to her core.

  “You don’t seem particularly angry at the man who sent you the message,” he said smoothly. “Your ex-boyfriend.”

  “We hadn’t been together long,” she said. “We weren’t seriously involved.”

  His eyes held hers as he tipped his head. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Why?”

  “‘Hell hath no fury’ and all...”

  Suddenly she realized he’d turned the tables and the attack was now on her. Subtle, so as to not raise the crowd’s ire, but there nonetheless. The insinuation increased the tension in the air until it was almost palpable, and their host remained silent, no doubt enjoying the show they were providing.

  But Carly let Hunter know with a small smile that she was on to his game. “This isn’t a scorned woman’s vendetta.”

  “You haven’t flipped the coin from love to hate?” Hunter said.

  “Love is one emotion I’ve yet to experience,” she said. Although she’d come close once.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Oh?” She feigned surprise. “Does that lessen the fun of your app for you?”

  He was clearly biting back a smile. “Not at all.”

  “Or is it entertaining simply to use your program to dump all your girlfriends?”

  “I don’t sleep around,” he said.

  Her brow bunched at his tone. Was he implying she did?

  “I’m more...” He paused, as if searching for the right word. But she knew it was all for show. “Prudent in my choices.”

  If her lips pressed any tighter at the obvious dig they would merge into one.

  The light in his eyes was maddening. “Nor am I vindictive when it ends.”

  She longed to knock the coolly lethal, amused look from his face as he continued to bait her. “Trust me,” she said. “If I’d wanted vengeance against my ex, I would have taken it out on him—not you.”

  “So why the need to lay your break-up at my feet?”

  “It wasn’t getting ditched that bothered me.” Heart pounding under his scrutiny, she barely restrained the anger that begged to be unleashed. She held his gaze. “It was the method in which he chose to do it. And you created the app.”

  “Yes, I did,” he said smoothly.

  Her irritation rose. Damn it, his response was so deviously agreea
ble. His simple, matter-of-fact confirmation knocked her accusation to the ground, leaving it less effective. And he knew it. “My boyfriend was simply an insensitive coward. You, however,” Carly said, her voice low, hoping for a loss of his tight control when faced with the brutal truth, “are exploiting people’s callous treatment of others simply to make money.”

  The worst of the worst. A bottom-feeder, as far as Carly was concerned.

  There was no flicker of emotion in Hunter’s cool, hard gaze—just like Thomas after he’d dumped her to save himself. Hunter’s I’m-in-control smile was infuriating. And right now he was the poster boy for every unpleasant break-up she’d ever experienced.

  “Unfortunately,” he said, “human nature is what it is.” He paused before going on, a single brow arching higher. “Perhaps the problem is you’re too naive.”

  Resentment burned her belly, because she’d heard that before—from the two men who had mattered most. Hunter Philips was a member of the same heartless club as her father and Thomas—where ruthlessness ruled, money was king and success came before all else.

  Her sizzling fuse grew shorter, the spark drawing closer to her heart, and words poured out unchecked. “That’s a rotten excuse for fueling man’s sprint toward the death of human decency.”

  The words lingered in the stunned silence that followed, and Carly cringed.

  Just perfect, Carly. A nice over-the-top histrionic retort, implying you’re a crazy lady.

  She’d let her emotions get the best of her...again. Jeez, hadn’t she learned anything in the last three years?

  Hunter’s relaxed posture remained in place. His eyes were communicating one thing: her wild words were exactly what the infuriating man had planned. “Are you saying I’m responsible for the downfall of human decency?” The lines in his brow grew deeper. “Because that’s a pretty heavy accusation for one frivolously insignificant app,” he said, and then he turned his small smile toward the audience, drawing them in. “If I’d known how important it was when I designed it, I would have paid more attention.”

  A ripple of amusement moved through the crowd, and she knew her role in the show had just gone from lighthearted arts and entertainment reporter to bitter, jilted ex—with a generous dose of crazy.

  Hunter returned his gaze to her, and frustration tightened its fist on her heart. There was such a feeling of...of...incompleteness about it. He’d swooped in, deciphered her like the easy read she was, and figured out just which buttons to push. He was more than an unusually cool, good-looking computer expert—his demeanor was a killer mix of cunning arctic fox and dangerous black panther. Obviously this was no simple network security consultant.

  So why had Hunter designed such a personal app? The facts didn’t square with the self-controlled man she’d just engaged in a battle of wits. Carly coming in last, of course.

  “Unfortunately we’re running out of time,” the host said, disappointment in his voice.

  Hunter’s gaze remained locked with Carly’s—a gut-twisting, heart-pounding moment of communication from victor...to loser.

  “Too bad we can’t come back again,” she said provocatively, and held Hunter’s gaze, hurling daggers meant to penetrate his steely armor, but sure they were being deflected with ease. “I’d love to hear what inspired the creation of The Ditchinator.”

  For the first time a hard glint flickered in his eyes—a look so stony she had to force herself not to flinch.

  The host saved the day. “I would too.” He turned to the audience. “Would you like to hear the story?” The audience went wild, and Brian O’Connor became Carly’s newest BFF. “You up for it, Carly?”

  “Definitely.” She turned her attention back to Hunter, her tone silky, as it always was when she tried to control her anger. “But I’m sure Mr. Philips is too busy to participate.” Although he hadn’t moved, was as coolly collected as ever—God, she wished she had his control—he had to be mentally squirming as he searched for a way out. The thought was much more satisfying than near-miss daggers, but her fun ended when he shocked her with his answer.

  “I’m game if you’re game,” Hunter said.

  Copyright © 2012 by Aimee Carson

  ISBN-13: 9781460337042

  THE HEAT OF THE NIGHT

  Copyright © 2014 by Amy Andrews

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

  www.Harlequin.com

  Introducing Hunter Philips—the heartbreaker of Miami…

  Hunter Philips sends Carly Wolfe’s girl-power radar into overdrive—what kind of heartless man invents a callous breakup app called The Ditchinator? Challenging him to a TV showdown, she doesn’t bank on Hunter’s ice-blue stare and lethal charisma setting her heart racing….

  After a romantic fiasco resulted in her losing her job, reporter Carly has relegated love to the back page. A sizzling fling with Hunter would definitely stretch her “no emotional involvement” rule to breaking point, but what’s a girl to do? If she’s going to live close to the edge, she might as well enjoy it!

  SNEAK PEEK EXCERPT FROM

  Dare She Kiss & Tell?

  Someone bumped Carly from behind, pushing her more firmly against Hunter, and he cupped the back of her shoulder to steady her. Every blood vessel in her body grew thick, the blood forced to pulse in jet-stream fashion.

  “I came to give you fair warning,” he said.

  All sorts of warnings were ringing in her head. Professional ones. Personal ones…

  She stared up at him, fascinated by the restrained, coiled stillness of the body pressed against hers. Outside an electrifying gaze alive with awareness, and a hard chest that slowly rose and fell—a marked contrast to her increasingly shorter gasps—he didn’t move. No swooping in for a kiss, pushing his advantage.

  And a very small part of her was…disappointed.

  Hunter leaned forward to speak at her ear, his voice low, her pulse pounding.

  “You started this war, Carly.” The shimmer of his breath on her cheek sent a fresh wave of hot prickles down her back. “I just hope you’re ready for the fight.”

  Without warning he turned and headed off, leaving Carly reeling in the aftermath. And with the sinking feeling he’d just become infinitely more dangerous.

  Praise for

  Aimee Carson:

  “Oh, my, what a fantastic debut by Aimee Carson.

  I loved it! It really has everything that I like in a

  good contemporary romance: a feisty heroine who is far

  from perfect, snappy dialogue and sizzling chemistry—

  and I mean sizzling. *That* scene in the elevator…whew!

  The romance and relationship between Alyssa and Paulo

  is actually quite simple, but perfectly done. Aimee’s

  writing
flows beautifully, and she has created two great

  characters. I applaud her for Alyssa’s ‘bad girl’ roots—

  I loved her! The book is well written and developed,

  with plenty of sass and sparkle. I can’t wait to read

  more from Aimee in the future.”

  —Everyday-Is-The-Same.blogspot.com on

  Secret History of a Good Girl

  Dare She

  Kiss & Tell?

  Aimee Carson

  About Aimee Carson

  The summer she turned eleven, Aimee left the children’s section of the library and entered an aisle full of Harlequin novels. She promptly pulled out a book, sat on the floor and read the entire story. It has been a love affair that has lasted over thirty years.

  Despite a fantastic job working part-time as a physician in the Alaskan Bush (think Northern Exposure and ER, minus the beautiful mountains and George Clooney), she also enjoys being at home in the gorgeous Black Hills of South Dakota, riding her dirt bike with her three wonderful kids and beyond-patient husband. But, whether at home or at work, every morning is spent creating the stories she loves so much. Her motto? Life is too short to do anything less than what you absolutely love. She counts herself lucky to have two jobs she adores, and incredibly blessed to be a part of Harlequin’s family of talented authors.

  Other Harlequin® KISS™ titles by Aimee Carson:

  Don’t Tell the Wedding Planner

  The Unexpected Wedding Guest

  First Time For Everything

  Other titles by Aimee Carson are available in ebook format from www.Harlequin.com.

  To my dog, Akiko, who is really just a cat incognito.

  Thanks for the entertaining attitude.

  Contents

  Chapter One