Harlequin KISS August 2014 Bundle (21 page)

“I suspect you would have,” he murmured.

Carly had the feeling the man was noticing, cataloguing and storing away every detail about her. To what dark purpose she had no idea. The thought sent an illicit shimmer of excitement down her spine. Trapped in his gaze, Carly struggled for a response, but Brian
O’Connor spared her the effort, announcing they were cutting to commercial.

During the break, Hunter leaned closer. “Why are you chasing me down, Ms. Wolfe?”

The confidential conversation emboldened her, and she lifted her chin. “To get you to publically admit your mean-spirited app sucks.”

He cocked his head in caution. “You’ll be waiting a long time.”

She ignored his response.
“Eventually—” her smile held zero warmth “—I’m going to get you to pull it off the market so no one else has to suffer.”

“I’m curious...” His lethally secretive smile returned. “How much of your body will you expose for your cause?”

Clearly he was trying to get her riled. She fought to maintain her cool. “Which parts would prove most effective?”

“I’m open to suggestions.”

“My middle finger, perhaps?”

“I prefer rounder...” his eyes skimmed her breasts, leaving her sizzling “...softer parts.” His gaze returned to her lips. “Though your sharp tongue holds a certain appeal.”

She considered sticking her tongue out at him until his eyes returned to hers—seemingly unaffected, still unerringly focused, and full of a dangerous warning that left her breathless.

Fortunately the host announced the end of the commercial. Desperate for oxygen, and a break from Hunter’s maddening effect on her body, she tore her gaze from him back to Brian O’Connor as he addressed her.

“Now that you have Hunter’s attention,” the host said, “what would you like to say?”

Go to hell
came to mind. Unfortunately this wasn’t cable—no swearing allowed.

But if
she couldn’t speak her mind, she could at least get him to face the music—off-key notes and all. “On behalf of all those affected, I’d like to thank you personally for the creation of The Ditchinator and the message it sends: ‘It’s over, babe.’” In keeping with their interaction to date, she lifted an eyebrow that was outwardly flirtatious but heavy with biting subtext. “You’re quite the poet.”

“You’re easily impressed.”

“It must have taken you hours to compose.”

Hunter looked as if he wanted to smile. Whether despite her insult or because of it she wasn’t sure. “Only a few seconds, actually. But at least it’s short and to the point.”

“Oh, it’s
extremely
pointy, all right,” she said. She twisted on the love seat to face her opponent more directly, refusing to let him
get an outward rise out of her. “But what makes the experience
super-
fun is the bulk email the Ditchinator sends, notifying friends and social network followers that you’re now single and available.” Her smile turned overly sweet. “Nice feature.”

“I thought so,” he said, as if she was being serious. But Hunter Philips was the sort of man who didn’t miss a thing, not with that disturbingly
calculated gaze that bored into hers.

“It certainly is a time-saver,” the host said, clearly trying to rejoin the discussion.

Hunter’s intense focus remained on Carly. “I admire efficiency.”

“I’m sure you do,” she said.

“It’s a fast-paced world we live in,” Hunter returned.

“Perhaps too fast,” she said, aware they were still shutting Brian O’Connor out. Hunter wasn’t playing
nice with the host. She doubted he
ever
played nice. And she was too engrossed in this visual and verbal duel to care.

“Care to hear my favorite feature of your app?” She threw her arm across the back of the couch and leaned closer. His woodsy scent filled her senses. “The extensive list of songs to choose from to accompany the message.”

The host chimed in. “The one I’d hate to be on
the receiving end of is Tchaikovsky’s
Nutcracker
,” he said with an exaggerated shiver, clearly for the benefit of an amused audience.

She looked past Hunter to address Brian O’Connor, her tone laden with sarcasm. “Mr. Philips
is
very clever, isn’t he?” Her eyes crash-landed back on Mr. Ditchinator.

“Hunter,” the man insisted, his gaze trained on her. “And
your
ex-boyfriend’s choice of
songs?”

“It was an extra-special title. ‘How Can I Miss You When You Won’t Go Away?’”

Though the audience gasped and snickered, Hunter Philips didn’t register the musical slight, and Brian O’Connor said, “Obscure. But effectively rude.”

“Which leaves me curious as to why Ms. Wolfe is using her column in the
Miami Insider
to target me,” Hunter said.

Hunter faced Carly again.
Though braced for the impact, she felt the force of his gaze to her core.

“You don’t seem particularly angry at the man who sent you the message,” he said smoothly. “Your ex-boyfriend.”

“We hadn’t been together long,” she said. “We weren’t seriously involved.”

His eyes held hers as he tipped his head. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Why?”

“‘Hell hath no fury’ and all...”

Suddenly she realized he’d turned the tables and the attack was now on
her
. Subtle, so as to not raise the crowd’s ire, but there nonetheless. The insinuation increased the tension in the air until it was almost palpable, and their host remained silent, no doubt enjoying the show they were providing.

But Carly let Hunter know with a small smile that she was on to his game. “This isn’t
a scorned woman’s vendetta.”

“You haven’t flipped the coin from love to hate?” Hunter said.

“Love is one emotion I’ve yet to experience,” she said. Although she’d come close once.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Oh?” She feigned surprise. “Does that lessen the fun of your app for you?”

He was clearly biting back a smile. “Not at all.”

“Or is it entertaining simply to use
your program to dump all your girlfriends?”

“I don’t sleep around,” he said.

Her brow bunched at his tone. Was he implying
she
did?

“I’m more...” He paused, as if searching for the right word. But she knew it was all for show. “
Prudent
in my choices.”

If her lips pressed any tighter at the obvious dig they would merge into one.

The light in his eyes was maddening. “Nor
am I vindictive when it ends.”

She longed to knock the coolly lethal, amused look from his face as he continued to bait her. “Trust me,” she said. “
If
I’d wanted vengeance against my ex, I would have taken it out on him—not you.”

“So why the need to lay your break-up at my feet?”

“It wasn’t getting ditched that bothered me.” Heart pounding under his scrutiny, she barely restrained
the anger that begged to be unleashed. She held his gaze. “It was the method in which he chose to do it. And
you
created the app.”

“Yes, I did,” he said smoothly.

Her irritation rose. Damn it, his response was so deviously
agreeable
. His simple, matter-of-fact confirmation knocked her accusation to the ground, leaving it less effective. And he
knew
it. “My boyfriend was simply an insensitive
coward. You, however,” Carly said, her voice low, hoping for a loss of his tight control when faced with the brutal truth, “are exploiting people’s callous treatment of others simply to make money.”

The worst of the worst. A bottom-feeder, as far as Carly was concerned.

There was no flicker of emotion in Hunter’s cool, hard gaze—just like Thomas after he’d dumped her to save himself.
Hunter’s I’m-in-control smile was infuriating. And right now he was the poster boy for every unpleasant break-up she’d ever experienced.

“Unfortunately,” he said, “human nature is what it is.” He paused before going on, a single brow arching higher. “Perhaps the problem is you’re too naive.”

Resentment burned her belly, because she’d heard that before—from the two men who had mattered
most. Hunter Philips was a member of the same heartless club as her father and Thomas—where ruthlessness ruled, money was king and success came before all else.

Her sizzling fuse grew shorter, the spark drawing closer to her heart, and words poured out unchecked. “That’s a rotten excuse for fueling man’s sprint toward the death of human decency.”

The words lingered in the stunned silence
that followed, and Carly cringed.

Just perfect, Carly. A nice over-the-top histrionic retort, implying you’re a crazy lady.

She’d let her emotions get the best of her...again.
Jeez
, hadn’t she learned anything in the last three years?

Hunter’s relaxed posture remained in place. His eyes were communicating one thing: her wild words were exactly what the infuriating man had planned.
“Are you saying I’m responsible for the downfall of human decency?” The lines in his brow grew deeper. “Because that’s a pretty heavy accusation for one frivolously insignificant app,” he said, and then he turned his small smile toward the audience, drawing them in. “If I’d known how important it was when I designed it, I would have paid more attention.”

A ripple of amusement moved through
the crowd, and she knew her role in the show had just gone from lighthearted arts and entertainment reporter to bitter, jilted ex—with a generous dose of crazy.

Hunter returned his gaze to her, and frustration tightened its fist on her heart. There was such a feeling of...of...
incompleteness
about it. He’d swooped in, deciphered her like the easy read she was, and figured out just which buttons
to push. He was more than an unusually cool, good-looking computer expert—his demeanor was a killer mix of cunning arctic fox and dangerous black panther. Obviously this was no simple network security consultant.

So why had Hunter designed such a personal app? The facts didn’t square with the self-controlled man she’d just engaged in a battle of wits. Carly coming in last, of course.

“Unfortunately we’re running out of time,” the host said, disappointment in his voice.

Hunter’s gaze remained locked with Carly’s—a gut-twisting, heart-pounding moment of communication from victor...to loser.

“Too bad we can’t come back again,” she said provocatively, and held Hunter’s gaze, hurling daggers meant to penetrate his steely armor, but sure they were being deflected with ease.
“I’d love to hear what inspired the creation of The Ditchinator.”

For the first time a hard glint flickered in his eyes—a look so stony she had to force herself not to flinch.

The host saved the day. “I would too.” He turned to the audience. “Would you like to hear the story?” The audience went wild, and Brian O’Connor became Carly’s newest BFF. “You up for it, Carly?”

“Definitely.”
She turned her attention back to Hunter, her tone silky, as it always was when she tried to control her anger. “But I’m sure Mr. Philips is too busy to participate.” Although he hadn’t moved, was as coolly collected as ever—God, she wished she had his control—he had to be mentally squirming as he searched for a way out. The thought was much more satisfying than near-miss daggers, but her fun
ended when he shocked her with his answer.

“I’m game if you’re game,” Hunter said.

Copyright © 2012 by Aimee Carson

ISBN-13: 9781460337042

THE HEAT OF THE NIGHT

Copyright © 2014 by Amy Andrews

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Introducing Hunter Philips—the heartbreaker of Miami…

Hunter Philips sends Carly Wolfe’s girl-power radar into
overdrive—what kind of heartless man invents a callous breakup app called The
Ditchinator? Challenging him to a TV showdown, she doesn’t bank on Hunter’s
ice-blue stare and lethal charisma setting
her
heart racing….

After a romantic fiasco resulted
in her losing her job,
reporter Carly has relegated love to the back page. A sizzling fling with Hunter
would definitely stretch her “no emotional involvement” rule to breaking point,
but what’s a girl to do? If she’s going to live close to the edge, she might as
well enjoy it!