Torrid Nights Read Online Free PDF Page B

waist.
    “I rather liked what you were wearing before,” he commented lazily, a slight smile crossing his face.
    “At least you’re partly human,” she retorted genially and then cringed at her hasty words.
    “Indeed? You think I’m not human? Believe me, Ms. Scott, I’m very human in some areas.”
    The vibration in his husky voice created a shiver down her spine, as if he had caressed her bodily with his voice. Mackenna slowed to a stop opposite him, feeling like a defenseless doe that had just happened upon a hungry wolf. His gaze stripped her, devoured her, and she shivered inwardly. What would it be like to be touched by him? To feel his hands on her body? If his voice alone could turn her into a responsive instrument, stroked by its smoldering tone, what havoc would his touch wreak?
    Her heart beat violently against her breast as she gave him a startled look. She must be crazy! If he wanted her, it was only as a body. Someone with whom he would toy for a brief hour. And yet, she was inexorably drawn to him. Just like the prey of the cobra that lived in the jungle coastlands. The snake needed only to rear up and weave back and forth rhythmically, and the prey would stand hypnotized, waiting to be struck…. She closed her eyes momentarily, forcing her roiling emotions back beneath that lid she had kept so tightly in place since Ryan’s death. Finally, she trusted herself to speak. “You and I are exact opposites, Mr. Hampton. I find your clinical analysis of life unacceptable.”
    He pursed his lips, standing with his legs slightly apart, arms folded across his chest. His look was impenetrable. “Opposites attract,” he informed her. “Who cares whether it’s for an hour or a day?”
    Mackenna forced herself to sit down before her trembling knees gave her away. Had he read her mind? “That’s true,” she conceded, playing the parry-riposte game with him. “But I play for lifelong stakes. Not for stolen moments or days.”
    Brock grinned broadly, letting his arms drop to his sides as he sauntered noiselessly to the chair opposite Mackenna. “That’s a shame. But it won’t stop me from trying.”
    Mackenna’s eyes widened, and her lips parted. “What are you saying?” she demanded.
    Again, that infuriating smile. “I’ve decided to stick around here for at least three weeks, Ms. Scott. Because of the excellent record I see in your file and because I like your spirit, I’m going to give you the opportunity to show me why the road is behind schedule. You’ll keep your job for that long, at least, or until such time as you can convince me that the schedule delays are not your fault. Frankly, you’ve aroused my curiosity about you. As a manager and as a woman.”
    Mackenna rested her chin in her hand, watching him toss in his challenge. So, she mused. He thought he could break her? Make her succumb to him as so many women undoubtedly had? Okay, she would play his game. And she’d turn the tables on him, too.
    “I’ll be more than happy to take you with me for sixteen hours a day, Mr. Hampton,” she said smoothly. “I’m confident that once you look at the soil base and compare it with the preliminary engineering analysis, you’ll beg me to stay and finish this road.”
    He grinned. “I think I can manage the killing pace. And by the way, call me Brock. It’s less formal.”
    “Then you can call me Mac,” she murmured.
    He shook his head like a lordly lion. “No, it sounds too masculine. I prefer Mackenna. By the way, how the hell did you get nailed with a name like that?”
    She was beginning to enjoy the teasing tone of his voice, the relaxing of his stony features. He liked a challenge as much as she did. And she realized he expected to win it. But she knew the soils-testing reports would save her job. She was going to teach him a lesson in humility over the next twenty-one days. One way or another. “My father wanted a boy,” she explained. “My parents already had the name chosen.