Incidental Contact (Those Devilish De Marco Men) Read Online Free PDF Page A

brunette didn’t respond, but Malibu Barbie rolled her blue eyes, making Amy feel fat and awkward. Eric tugged her belt loop. “Amy, did you need to talk to Phil?”
    Who’s Phil? “Um, I n-need to make an appointment to speak with th-the m-mall manager.”
    The blonde’s fingers flew across her keyboard, but she didn’t take her eyes off Eric. “Mr. Chapman has left for the day, but he can give you a few minutes tomorrow at one-ten. May I tell him what this is regarding?”
    The brunette turned. Amy spied the most gorgeous gray eyes she’d ever seen, so perhaps she’d been mistaken in assuming the woman spoke Spanish? Her brains felt like flambéed mush. She tried to shove her free hand into the back pocket of her jeans, but only succeeded in jamming her fingers on her cell phone.
    She wished Eric had stayed in the hall. The sensation of his body pressed against her side made it hard to think straight. Every word she’d composed about this important proposal evaporated. Why couldn’t the heat from her face unthaw her brain? “A-a... a charity... thing. I-I can be here at one tomorrow. T-th-thanks.” Dammit, she didn’t stutter. Her tongue refused to co-operate. All that muscle wanted to do was roll around with Eric’s again.
    “See you then.” The receptionist gave her a final, scornful, glare and Eric another come-here-so-I-can-lick-you look. Hammered by waves of embarrassment, Amy whirled.
    Eric’s damn finger in her belt loop pulled her up short.
    “Do you know Mr. Chapman... personally?” the receptionist cooed.
    Seriously, someone needs to punch her in the face, just for that simpering tone.
    Eric’s chuckle seemed to echo in Amy’s nipples like bee stings. How the hell does he do that?
    “ Mister Chapman and I are first cousins. Started kindergarten together, graduated together. I just call him Phil, but I’d be afraid to ask what he calls me.”
    Her fingers were too damn short to reach the door knob. Straining to break free, she felt the waistband of her jeans bite deep into her hips.
    “Ooh, you’re Eric De Marco. I recognize you now. I’m so sorry about your mother. Mr. Chapman speaks fondly of his dear Aunt Camille.”
    The last thing on earth Amy wanted was to stand around, her body still buzzing from kissing Eric, while she watched him pick up the hussy behind the desk. She made a desperate lunge for the knob. Eric didn’t let go, still treating her like a toy poodle on a leash.
    Even the Hispanic girl began talking to him. “ Los De Marco merecen todos sus problemas. Si tus ancestros hubieran intervenido para detener a su señor abeja de violar a inocentes, tu madre quizas estuviera viva .”
    Amy’s Spanish was gleaned from two years of high school and one semester in college. She picked out a few words. “Señor abeja” meant... bee man? I have no idea. She’s talking too fast. There was no mistaking the derision in the other woman’s tone.
    Maybe she called him... a honey bee . Amy’s cheeks felt nuclear-powered now. She thought Lila made up the bee joke in retaliation for Eric calling her Colton’s “baby mama”, but maybe the nickname was common knowledge. Maybe this woman and Eric had dated, too? The Latino woman kept looking from Eric to Amy and back. Amy didn’t need a translator to see the scorn in those unusual eyes.
    “What?” Eric demanded. His tone made Amy dart a glance at him. His expression darkened. “ Repítelo una vez más pero más lento ?”
    If she was right, Eric asked the dark-haired girl to talk slower.
    Or did he know how to flirt in Spanish? Of course he could flirt in two languages. He could flirt in Italian, just by batting his eyelashes. She’d never managed to learn how to flirt in her mother tongue. Amy made another lunge, finally breaking free of his grasp. Yanking open the office door, she stalked into the hallway.
    She was built like a boxcar, no matter how many miles she ran. She might not be in Eric’s league, but she’d be damned