The Trouble With Coco Monroe Read Online Free PDF Page A

perfume and something that was pure Coco spun around his senses, dulling the usually sharp thought processes of his brain.
    ‘Your father believes differently.’ That brought her head up. ‘And I agree with him.’
    Instead of anger, he read a calculating gleam in those vivid eyes.
    And excuse me but was that something like contempt?
    ‘If my father asked you to jump naked through a flaming hoop you’d agree with that too,’ she said in a voice that dripped pure disdain.
    What?
    How dare she talk to him like that?
    His fingers now pressed into her hipbones making her wince and he forced himself not to lose his temper.
    By the way her face went too pale again, Coco knew she’d overstepped the mark.
    And he wasn’t fucking standing for it.
    He guided her to the side of the dance floor near a side exit and felt her tremble.
    Before she could utter a sound, he turned her in his arms and pushed her through the door.
    She struggled, but he was bigger, stronger.
    ‘I’m not going any...’
    Coco found herself in a long narrow hallway.
    Then she was jerked around, her back pushed against the wall.
    Heart fluttering crazily against her ribs, she couldn’t help but flinch when his hands slapped the wall either side of her head.
    Every single time they met she couldn’t seem to help but snipe and snarl at him. Rafael Cavendish was not a man to tolerate a smart mouth or bare-faced cheek. She knew that.
    She also knew he’d never ever get physical with a woman, unless pushed beyond endurance. The way he’d used his superior strength to shove her through the door, the way his big body caged hers told her Rafe had reached the end of his tether.
    Her gaze flicked up to his face.
    Yep.
    Furious.
    ‘We need to talk. You can come with me willingly or I carry you. What’s it to be?’
    Her eyes lifted to meet his and she read the absolute determination in them.
    The skitter of fear up her spine and the curl of lust deep in her belly meant she couldn’t help the tiny nudge of her chin.
    Those dark eyes narrowed in warning.
    ‘Do not test me, Coco.’
    Test him?
    With three brothers she knew exactly how to test him.
    If he carried on like this, she’d kick his balls into his throat.
    However, this was Rafe and she hadn’t come out the winner of their last little skirmish.
    ‘Where are we going?’
    ‘My suite.’
    She smirked.
    He growled.
    ‘Dream on,’ she said.
    Now he went nose to nose with her.
    The familiarity of his scent, of healthy man and his signature cologne tempted her to take quick little nip of his strong jaw. And her mouth actually watered to bite him. This was so not a good sign. Neither was the almost overwhelming need to whimper.
    ‘Get over yourself, doll face. I simply want to talk to you, nothing more.’
    He took a step back.
    Relief warred with disappointment while utter mortification wrapped it all up in a great big bow.
    She couldn’t seem to help but continually jerk his chain and pay the price.
    When would she ever learn?
     
     

Chapter Four
    As they took the elevator to a penthouse suite Rafe’s face was implacable.
    The high cheekbones, the strong jaw with its delectable mouth could have been carved from solid rock.
    During the frigid silence, she told herself that this was not like the last time.
    These days she was a big girl.
    More than old enough to deal with Rafael Cavendish.
    If that was true, a little voice said, why did her pulse jump as if she’d overdosed on one of those adrenalin drinks?
    The scent of him was amazing.
    She couldn’t help but take a deep inhale as Rafe led the way out of the elevator and along a carpeted hallway to his suite.
    As they entered his rooms a feeling of déjà vu washed over her.
    The sitting room was fabulously appointed with arched floor to ceiling windows leading out to a roof terrace with spectacular views of the river and the rolling countryside beyond.
    But Coco ignored the deep carpet the colour of spun gold, the long sofas, the overstuffed