The Kissing Game Read Online Free PDF Page A

caught her arm, tipping his chair back to gaze up at her. “Says who?” She wriggled to get free, but he wouldn't release her. “Where on earth did you ever get that idea?” he asked.
    Frankie sighed, embarrassment tingeing her face. Up close like this, her skin was remarkably smooth and the faint pink of her blush made her look charmingly, delightfully sweet. Her eyes were lowered and her lashes looked as if they were a quarter of a mile long, thick and dark against her cheeks. She smelled good too. She'd showered while he was driving Clay Quinn up to the resort. Her hair was still slightly damp around the edges, and the sweet scent of her shampoo lingered. She'd changed back into her default uniform—baggy shorts and an old T-shirt—but Simon was well aware of the trim, compact, and totally feminine body she was hiding under her androgynous clothes.
    She lifted her gaze, looking directly into his eyes, and Simon nearly fell over backward in his chair. It was as if she had touched him and the warmth of that touch had traveled down beneathhis skin, tunneling throughout his entire body, causing every cell to tingle.
    But she didn't seem to notice. She tugged again, trying to get her wrist free from his grasp. “I don't know why I said that,” she admitted. “I mean, I'm
glad
that you think of me as a friend, not a …. I mean, I'm not your type, so of course you wouldn't …. “
    “You think
I
think you're not my type?”
    “Well, yeah.” Frankie finally pulled away from him.
    “What if I told you you were wrong, and that I think an average of seven lustful thoughts about you every day?”
    Frankie laughed, rubbing her wrist. “I'd laugh in your face and call you a liar.”
    “It's true.”
    Her dark eyes flashed. “Give me a break, Simon.”
    “Have I ever lied to you?”
    She smiled slightly. “Probably.”
    Man, he was actually sitting there, flirting with Francine Paresky. He smiled back at her, silently challenging her not to be the first to look away.
    “Right now, for instance, I'm having seven lustful thoughts simultaneously.”
    She glanced away, but only for a second. “Only seven?” she said, lifting one eyebrow a bit.
    Man, she was actually flirting back. Simon had always thought that she thought he wasn't
her
type. Except for that one time, nearly a dozen years ago, he'd never even dared to ask Frankie out. Oh, he pretended to ask her out, like when he found that incredible black dress in her closet. But neither of them ever took that seriously. Maybe he should have ….
    Maybe all this time he'd been wrong. Maybe all this time Frankie had been hiding her attraction to him the same way he'd hidden his attraction to her.
    The thought nearly made his head explode. He knew he was looking at Frankie with pure hunger in his eyes, but he couldn't stop himself.
    “If we don't get back to work, this is going to take all night,” Frankie said, trying hard to be businesslike.
    “I've got all night.”
    Simon's words were loaded with meaning, andFrankie had to turn away, afraid of letting him see the look she knew was on her face.
    Simon Hunt wasn't indifferent to her after all. The news filled her with a wide variety of sensations. Pleasure. Excitement. Delight. Panic.
    Particularly panic.
    She felt oddly like the creator of some horrible monster, knowing that if she glanced back at Simon again, he'd still be gazing at her with that fiercely burning heat in his eyes. She'd seen him look at women like that before—other women, never her. Until now.
    Jazz. What happened to the excitement she'd been feeling about seeing Jazz again? It was nothing. It was buried underneath the knowledge that with little effort, sophisticated and incredibly sexy Simon Hunt could very well share her bed in the very near future.
    And tomorrow Frankie would wake up to find the nearly twenty-year friendship she had with this man destroyed. Tomorrow she'd wake up and join the ranks of women like Maia Fox. She'd join the