Unconditional Read Online Free PDF Page B

“Maybe he’s never met an American before?”
    I laughed. Perhaps it was the joy of something finally going right for me since touching down, maybe it was the fact Heather was proving to be lots of fun. Whatever it was, I allowed myself to relax.
    Unfortunately, occasionally when I laugh, I snort. Nothing too loud or animalistic, but a snort all the same. Of course, that was the exact moment Raphael Jones opened his door and stepped into the space behind Heather.
    Just as I snorted, he crossed his threshold and looked at me.
    Great.
    Awesome.
    Fan-freaking-tastic.
    Once again, our eyes met. Once again, the thoroughly disturbing memory of our kiss played with my head. I stopped laughing. Kind of stared at him.
    He stared back.
    “Raph!” Heather’s exuberant cry filled the corridor. “Have you met Maci Rowling yet? She’s from America. Do you remember the American student I mentioned last month? This is her. Maci, this is Raphael Jones. Have you heard of him?”
    Raphael Jones regarded me with an expression they should put in the dictionary as a perfect example of ambiguous . “We’ve met.”
    Heather damn near gave herself whiplash looking at me. “You have?”
    Raphael nodded. A single nod that spoke volumes.
    I bristled. No, more than bristled. I got angry. I don’t normally do angry, but Raphael Jones, Raph Jones, had pissed me off. What the fuck was this guy’s problem? One minute he’s sticking his tongue down my throat, smiling at me like we’re best friends, eye-flirting with me through a crowd of paparazzi, and the next he’s regarding me like I might or might not be some kind of friendly neighborhood serial killer.
    Jutting my hip at a snarky angle, I crossed my arms over my breasts and, gaze holding his, said, “We have. In the men’s restroom at the airport.” I cocked an eyebrow. “Where he kissed me.”
    Raph’s lips compressed. His jaw bunched. A unexpected glower fell over his face.
    I refused to look away. Next to my right boob, my left hand shook. I curled it into a hard ball. I’d be damned if I was going to let anyone see I had the shakes.
    “Kissed?” Heather squeaked. Just that one word. If I wasn’t so furious at Raph’s peculiar attitude, I’d be impressed I’d managed to curb her constant stream of chatter.
    But I was irritated. I didn’t care who the fuck Raph was, he didn’t have the right to be so goddamn—
    “Kissed,” he echoed, his voice a low purr. The disdainful scowl on his face vanished, replaced by something altogether indecipherable. “One of the best I’ve had, I have to admit.”
    My heart smashed up into my throat. An insane horde of maniacal butterflies threw a dance party in my belly.
    One of the best he’s had?
    Heather gaped at us both. Silent. Lost for words. Who would have thought?
    I arched another eyebrow at Raph. “One of the best you’ve had?” I repeated. “Really? I thought it was quite average.”
    And with that, I bent at the waist, wrapped my fingers—right hand, not left—around the handle of my suitcase and straightened. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a shower.”
    I turned back to my room and entered it, this time without colliding with the door. Yay me.
    Heather followed. I knew she would. I’d just dropped what I guessed was a monumental bombshell. And really, I wanted her to come in. As much as he infuriated me, I needed to know who Raph Jones was. So I could be ready the next time we bumped into each other.
    Refusing to let myself look over my shoulder—would he be watching my awesome display of indifference?—I crossed to my bed and deposited my suitcase onto the mattress.
    The sound of the door closing told me Heather had decided we needed some privacy. I was okay with that. If I did turn back and discover Raph still looking at me, I’m not sure what I would do. Maybe poke my tongue out at him. Yeah, I’m a real grown-up. Twenty-two going on four, that’s me.
    “Okay.” My new Australian bestie