All or Nothing Read Online Free PDF Page A

get no argument from me.” Her fingers closed around the rings. “What exactly do you have in mind?”
    He sensed victory within his sights. She was coming around to his way of thinking. But he had to be sure because if he miscalculated and moved too soon he could risk sending her running.
    “I suggest we spend a simple night out together, no pressure. My old high school buddy Malcolm Douglas is performing nearby—in the Côte d’Azur—tomorrow night. I have tickets. Go with me.”
    “What if I say no?”
    Not an option. He played his trump card. “Do you want my signature on those divorce papers?”
    She dropped her rings on top of the computer that just happened to be resting over the divorce papers. “Are you blackmailing me?”
    “Call it a trade.” He rested his hand over the five-carat diamond he’d chosen for her, only her. “You give me two days and I’ll give you the divorce papers. Signed.”
    “Just two days?” She studied him through narrowed, suspicious eyes.
    He gathered up the rings and pressed them to her palm, closing her fingers over them again. “Forty-eight hours.”
    Forty-eight hours to romance her back into his bed one last time.

Three
    G asping, Jayne sat upright in bed, jolted out of a deep sleep by...sunlight?
    Bold morning rays streamed through the part in the curtains. Late morning, not a sunrise. She looked at the bedside clock: 10:32 a.m.? Shoving her tangled hair aside, she blinked and the time stayed the same.
    Then changed to 10:33.
    She never overslept and she never had trouble with jet lag, thanks to her early years in nursing working odd shifts in the emergency room. Except last night she’d had trouble falling asleep even after a long bubble bath. Restless, she’d been foolish enough to dance with temptation by talking to Conrad on a moonlit Mediterranean night.
    He’d talked her into staying.
    God, was she even ready to face him today with the memory of everything she’d said right there between them? The thought of him out there, a simple door away, had her so damn confused. She’d all but propositioned him, and he’d turned her down. She’d been so sure she would have to keep him at arm’s length she’d checked into the room on another floor. That seemed petty, and even egotistical, now.
    He’d simply wanted the common courtesy of a face-to-face goodbye and he’d been willing to wait three years to get it. The least she could do was behave maturely now. She just had to get through the next forty-eight hours without making a fool of herself over this man again.
    Throwing aside the covers, she stood and came face-to-face with her reflection in the mirror. A fright show stared back at her, showcased by the gold-leaf frame. With her tousled hair and dark circles under her eyes, she looked worse than after pulling back-to-back shifts in the E.R.
    Pride demanded she shower and change before facing Conrad, who would undoubtedly look hot in whatever he wore. Even bed-head suited him quite well, damn him.
    A bracing shower later, she tugged on her favorite black skinny jeans and a poet’s shirt belted at the waist, the best she could do with what little she had in her suitcase. But she’d expected to be traveling back to the States today, divorce papers in hand. At least she’d thought to change her flight and arrange for more time off before going to bed last night.
    Nerves went wild in her chest as she opened the door. The sound of clanking silverware echoed down the hallway, the scent of coffee teasing her nose. He’d said they would spend two days finding peace with each other, but as she thought about facing him over breakfast, she felt anything but peaceful.
    Still, she’d made a deal with him and she refused to let him see her shake in her shoes—or all but beg him for sex again.
    Trailing her fingers down the chair railing in the hall, she made her way through the “man cave” living room and into the dining area. And oh, God, he’d swapped her