By Invitation Only Read Online Free PDF Page A

She snatched up the first outfit she grabbed—a skirt and T-shirt on a hanger—and hustled into the adjoining bathroom.
    She locked the door closed behind her. The bathroom was just as lavish as the bedroom. White marble floor, gold fixtures, a massive spa tub with heated jets. She pressed her forehead against the wall, felt the cool tile against her feverish skin. What was she doing here? How had she let this happen?
    Job.
    Oh, yes, her job. She’d lied about her identity in order to get an exclusive with Holly Carmichael. And she’d somehow wound up sharing a quaint bungalow with the last man on the earth she wanted to share a sexy island getaway with—her archrival.
    And yet, she couldn’t deny the spark between them. What was wrong with her that she secretly liked the man she outwardly despised?
     
     
    N ICK PACED THE BEDROOM . Blowing out his breath, he jammed his fingers through his hair. Okay, okay, she’s just a woman like any other.
    But even as he thought it, he felt something completely different. Something he’d never quite felt before when it came to women.
    Fear.
    He was afraid of Olivia Carmichael and he couldn’t really say why.
    His mind wandered back to the stupid stunt he’d pulled, climbing up on the bed beside her, trying to rattle her. Instead, he’d been the one shaken to the core. She’d turned up her nose at his moves, contemptuous, not falling for his charmer shtick.
    Did he want her merely because she didn’t want him?
    He almost bolted. Almost left the room before she came back. Dust in the wind. But he stayed, clearly a glutton for punishment.
    Olivia came stalking from the bathroom, a look of grim determination on her face. He expected another battle over the bed, but one look at her and his mind went blank of all thoughts except one.
    Sex.
    Hot, sticky sex.
    Long, slow sex. Wet sex. Playful sex. Angry sex. Make-up sex. Any damn kind of sex with this woman.
    She wore a sleeveless red T-shirt that molded over her breasts as though it was spray-painted on and a white flared skirt so short he would have been able to see her panties if she bent over.
    His tongue plaited into a pretzel and he wheezed in a chuff of air, but she didn’t even notice. Her head was down, her gaze fixed on the purse she’d dropped on the floor beside the door when they’d come into the room. She barreled straight for it.
    A normal person would have taken the purposeful walk and concentrated his expression on her face as a clue and stepped the hell out of the way, but Nick’s brain had short-circuited the second she stepped from the bathroom. He just stood there, watching her come at him, his arms akimbo, his mouth stupidly hanging open as if he’d never seen a beautiful woman hell-bent on a mission before.
    She clocked him with her shoulder, slamming into his extended arm, spinning him halfway around like the north wind on a weather vane, knocking him off balance. He stumbled against the coffee table and reflexively reached out to grab hold of something to stay on his feet.
    What he ended up grabbing was Olivia. Her breast to be precise. It was completely accidental, but he knew she wouldn’t believe that. She gasped and swung her arm up, trying to shove him away from her.
    But it was too late. They were going down together.
    He fell onto his back on the jute rug covering the hardwood floor with Olivia on top of him, her breasts squashed against his chest. He stared up at her. She blinked down at him. His hands had a mind of their own as they slipped around her waist, pulled her closer. Even as he did it, he knew it was a face-slapping offense.
    “This is low, Greer, even for you.” She stuck with glowering instead of violence. She would have been within her rights to smack his cheek, but she didn’t. Why?
    “Hey, you were the one who ran into me.”
    “You should have moved. If you hadn’t stood there ogling me you could have moved.”
    “Honey.” He chuckled. “The way you look in that outfit