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

if she intended to hang around with him and see that look on the faces of everyone they passed. Fuming, Amy stalked down the corridor, determined to put as much distance as possible between her and Eric De Marco. She kept a spare key in a magnetic box under her car. Lila could retrieve her wallet and keys.
    His hand closed around her arm before she got halfway to the mall concourse.
    Spinning her, he caged her against the wall with thighs that felt like steel. Slapping his hands on the wall above her head, he glared. “I guess your Spanish is better than mine. What the hell did she say?”
    “I suppose you dated her, too? Pretty damn sure she called you a honey bee and me something else, like a weed.” She stuck her chin in the air, returning his glare and fighting the snap, crackle, and pop going on inside her. “Okay, so my picture’s in the dictionary beside ‘great personality’. I know I’m not sexy, but did she have to be such a bitch?”
    His dark brows drew together. “I don’t do hot-tempered chicks. I like my balls right where they are, thanks. Besides, every woman has something that makes her sexy.”
    Her heart stuttered at the look in his eyes, but the man seduced women the way she drank iced tea—which was all day, every day. She twisted, trying to break free. Her elbow connected with his abdomen. He jumped a half-step to the side. She dove under his arm. Too late, she realized his big boot was on the hem of her pants. She pitched forward, flinging her hands out to break her fall. Her palms made a hideous noise sliding across the waxed flooring. Pain flared in her knee.
    Amy stared at the commercial tile. She had to be having a vivid, weird-as-hell dream, because there was no way any of this was really happening. This mini-nightmare was damn realistic, though, because her palms stung and one knee throbbed. Wake up!
    Slowly, she cut her eyes to the right. Eric’s boots were still planted by her side. Maybe if I stand up, I’ll wake. Because, yeah, lying at his feet didn’t make her look stupid.
    She made it to her knees, wincing from the flare of pain in her left knee. Eric moved to stand in front of her, but rather than help her up, he knelt. He lifted her chin with one hand. His palm felt rough and warm. “The sexiest thing about you is your laugh. But something tells me, if we got you out of those baggy clothes, I could damn sure add to that list.”
    Maybe I don’t wanna wake up.

Chapter Four
    T he chairs in the hair salon’s waiting area were uncomfortably narrow. Unsure why she’d let Eric talk her into coming here, Amy shifted onto one hip. Cringing from the assault of pink everywhere she looked, she massaged her aching knee.
    The magazines were all hairdo-related. She’d rather read an article about the uses of cow manure. Shoving the pile around, she spied a folded newspaper. Her hopes fell when she pulled the paper free and saw the Entertainment section, dated last Sunday. Finding the sports page was probably asking too much in this girly-girl cathedral.
    An older woman seated beside her swiveled, watching Eric follow the hairdresser to the sink in the back. Permanent wave solution—or estrogen wafting off the open-mouthed woman—made Amy’s eyes water, so she snatched up the paper, hoping to block the stinging fumes.
    This new gawker had to be her mother’s age. She turned to Amy with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I saw you two come in together. I can’t help staring at him. I think my ovaries just started working again. Good God, he’s gorgeous. Is he your... brother?”
    The lift of the woman’s brows pissed Amy off. “No.” She’d had it with snide looks and comments. “No, he’s not my brother. Does your daughter work in the mall office, by chance?”
    The matron’s drawn-on brows pulled together. “Never had kids.” Leaning closer, she placed her hand on Amy’s arm and whispered. “I can’t say I blame you for not letting him out of your sight. He must get...