Best Man's Conquest Read Online Free PDF Page B

the door and leaned against it.
    A disaster had been diverted, thanks to Dillon. She would go so far as to say the entire situation, while childish and petty, had actually been fun—
    Wait a minute. Fun? With Dillon?
    The truth grabbed hold and shook her silly for a second.
    That’s what was so weird. Tonight had reminded her, if only for a few seconds, that at one time she and Dillon had made a good team. They used to have fun.
    Even worse, she was pretty sure she actually disliked him a little less than she had this morning.
    Oh, this was bad.
    Hating Dillon was her only defense, her only ammunition. She depended on it.
    Without that hate, she could no longer ignore the fact that he’d irreparably broken her heart.

Four
    Do you suspect your man is lying to you? Trust your intuition. Odds are, he probably is.
    â€”excerpt from The Modern Woman’s Guide to Divorce (And the Joy of Staying Single)
    I vy learned two important lessons that night.
    The first was that the only thing worse than having to face her ex again was having to face him in her ratty old nightshirt with the sleeves torn off, wet, tangled hair and no makeup.
    The second, more valuable, lesson was always lock your bedroom door.
    â€œWhoops,” Dillon said from the open doorway when he saw her lying in bed on her stomach, on top of the covers, her laptop open in front of her.
    She scrambled onto her knees, tugging the shirt down over her pale, sun-deprived legs, kicking herself for not visiting the tanning bed a few times before she left. Then kicking herself a second time for caring what he thought. “What are you doing in here?”
    He looked genuinely baffled. “Guess I got the wrong room.”
    She couldn’t help wondering how he’d managed that, since Deidre had had the decency not to put them in adjacent rooms and his was located at the opposite end of the house.
    â€œHuh.” Dillon glanced down the hall in the direction he’d come from. “I must’a made a wrong turn at the stairs.”
    She dragged her fingers through her knotted hair, cursing herself for not running a brush through it. Her mother, the cosmetologist, had spent years hammering into her head that to avoid damage to the ends and give her thin hair more body, it should be brushed after it dried. Which shouldn’t have been a problem since she hadn’t been anticipating company.
    Or in Dillon’s case, an intruder.
    You don’t care, she reminded herself.
    â€œWell, as you can see, this isn’t your room, so…good night.”
    He looked casually around, as if he had every right to be there. “Hey, this is nice.”
    â€œYeah, it’s great.” And she knew for a fact it was not much different than his room.
    Rather than leave, Dillon stepped farther inside, wedging his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. A move completely nonthreatening, but she felt herself tense. “I think your room is bigger than mine. And damn, look at that view.”
    Without invitation, and in a move arrogantly typical of him, he crossed the room to the open French doors and stepped outside onto the balcony.
    Ugh! The man was insufferable!
    Forgetting about her unsightly white skin, she jumped up out of bed and followed him. Staring at her from a balcony a dozen yards away was one thing. She could even live with the teasing, but this was her room, her only refuge this week, and he had no right to just barge in uninvited. “What do you think you’re doing?”
    The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving only a hazy magenta ghost in its wake, and specks of glittering light dotted the heavens. And in the not so far distance she could hear the waves crashing against the bluff. Add to that the cool breeze blowing off the water and it was a perfect night. If not for the man standing there.
    He whistled low and shook his head. “Yes, ma’am, quite a view.”
    â€œYour room faces the same ocean, so I