Almost Perfect Read Online Free PDF Page A

had she agreed to that dare? Well, she had agreed, and she couldn't get out of it now.
    Besides, if she was totally off base on her revenge theory, then maybe Joe was equally eager to put their past to rest. Maybe he'd even be happy to see her. The only way she would know was if she went in there and faced him. And now would be a good time, since he was alone. They'd have privacy, at least, for this first meeting.
    Just do it , she ordered herself.
    Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to take a step. Then another. Before she knew it, she was standing in the doorway. He'd taken a seat at the desk and was working at a computer. The sound of the keyboard covered up her approach until she was almost to the desk. He looked up—and froze.
    Her lips trembled as she smiled. "Hello, Joe. It's been a long time."
    "Maddy?" He stared at her, his expression blank. He looked unbearably handsome with his tan skin and dark-chocolate eyes.
    She felt her cheeks flush. "It's, um, it's good to see you."
    He shot to his feet so fast his chair toppled backward, landing with a clatter against the tile floor. Anger blazed from his eyes in hot waves. "What the hell are you doing here?"
    The blood drained from her face.
    He hadn't expected her.
    And he definitely was not happy to see her.
    ----
    Chapter 3

     
    Adrenaline pumped through Joe's body as he stared at the woman before him. His senses on full alert, he took in everything in a flash: wild red hair, heart-shaped face, green eyes, lush mouth, and an hourglass figure that had forever set his personal standard for how a woman should look. Beneath a yellow tank top and a long, rust-colored skirt, with a wide leather belt riding her hips, she looked as curvaceous as ever.
    "I-I'm sorry," she stuttered. "I thought—"
    His gaze snapped back to her face, and he saw her skin had gone white, making her hair and eyes even more vivid. Was this as big a shock for her as it was for him?
    "What are you doing here?" he repeated, barely able to think over the sound of blood rushing in his ears.
    "I'm going to work here. As the arts and crafts coordinator."
    "You're going to what ?" he barked in his battle voice. But this wasn't a battle. He wasn't shouting to be heard over gunfire, and his body wasn't in immediate danger of getting shot. He was standing in one of the safest places on Earth—the office of his mother's summer camp. The scent of pine and sage drifted through the open windows and doors. Outside, a bird was singing.
    And Maddy was standing right in front of him.
    Maddy Howard. Not Madeline Mills, the name of the woman his mother had hired. The answer hit him like a blow straight to the chest. His mother had done this. Deliberately! "I'm going to kill her!"
    "I'm sorry." Maddy had the grace to blush. "I thought you knew."
    "Did she tell you I run the camp for her? Did she mention that you'd be working for me?"
    "Of course. I assumed… you wanted…" She took a step backward toward the door to the parking lot as if ready to bolt. "This was obviously a mistake. Maybe I should just—"
    She was leaving.
    His heart kicked back into high gear. He'd wanted to never see Maddy again, but now that she was here, more dazzling than ever, like some torturous fantasy brought to life, he didn't want her to just walk away. Jesus, how twisted was that? And how embarrassing to realize he still wanted her. Fifteen years after she'd cut him off at the knees, he still wanted her.
    "This was definitely a mistake." He made his voice as flat as possible. "And yes, I think it would be best if you did 'just.' " He motioned toward the door, telling himself to leave it at that. She was already turning, already moving away with her head bent. A few more steps and she'd be gone from his life again. An invisible fist squeezed his chest. "Christ, Maddy, you never were good at thinking things through, but this takes the cake, even for you." Why the hell was he still talking? Shut up, idiot, and let her go . "What made you