Wicked
Nights
Men of
Discovery Island #2
By: Anne Marsh
Releasing October 1st, 2014
Harlequin
Winner takes it all…off
Former
diving champion Piper Clark never loses. Unfortunately, if she doesn't land
this lucrative contract, her diving business will fail. Worse still, it will be
at the hands of her childhood nemesis, Cal Brennan—six feet of hard, rugged
former Navy SEAL. So Piper proposes a wager: whoever loses the diving contract
must take orders from the winner…in bed.
Cal needs
this contract for his own reasons. A former rescue swimmer, he may be having a
few issues with diving since his last mission ended, but Piper doesn't need to
know that. Something about her impulsive nature makes Cal rise to the bait, and
there's nothing he'd like more than to show Piper exactly what rules are good
for.
All bets are on. And someone's about to start
playing dirty….
Piper lived on the edge.
Literally.
Cal wrapped a hand around the back of her
neck and gently tugged until she wasn’t quite so close to the edge of the seat.
The ride had a safety harness, a set of thin chains, which struck Cal as more
ornamental than functional. The ride’s designers had clearly bet on gravity
keeping riders in their places. Equally obvious, they’d never planned on Piper.
She’d once debated the feasibility of jumping from the ride, when it swung out
over the ocean at its highest point, and hitting the water.
He’d never know for certain whether she’d
have gone through with the plan or not, but he’d watched her like a hawk for
the rest of the summer until she’d gone back to the mainland with her family.
She’d accused him of being an old grandfather. He’d countered that she’d had a
death wish.
Her legs extended in front of her as their
swing whirled into the next turn, and she threw her arms over her head,
shrieking happily. Her right knee didn’t quite straighten all the way, the
ridge of scar tissue there a visible reminder that some things in life hadn’t
worked out for Piper. On the other hand, while the accident had put an end to
her diving career, she didn’t seem to be in mourning.
Instead, she’d moved on.
Or moved back. Cal wasn’t sure which. All he
knew was that he was off balance in more ways than one, which was pretty much
what always happened when he was around Piper.
They needed to let go of this ridiculous
bet. It was a stupid idea and unprofessional. He had no idea why he’d agreed to
it in the first place, except that when he was around Piper, things seemed to
happen. That was part of the problem.
At least he had a captive audience. She
couldn’t run away from him now. “About our bet—”
“You can’t renege,” she said. “Look, you can
see my boat.”
“Piper—”
“That’s my name.” She slid a sideways glance
at him he couldn’t read. Too bad Piper didn’t come with an instruction manual.
Or an off switch.
“We can’t do the bet,” he said firmly. He
knew what happened when he gave Piper so much as an inch.
“You agreed,” she countered, every bit as
stubborn as he remembered. The years hadn’t softened her up any. Or taught her
to be reasonable.
He braced as the ride spun higher and the
swings arced out into the air. Squashing Piper hadn’t been part of his plan. “Cut
me some slack.”
“Nope,” she said. “No way. You were my
childhood nemesis. You never went easy on me once.”
Her body curved into the turn, and she threw
her arms up again with another whoop, taking at least a year off his life as
her butt lifted off the seat. He anchored her with an arm around her waist,
feeling the warmth of her beneath the thin cotton top. She looked sweet and
sexy, both of which were misleading. He had no idea what game Piper was playing
with him, but she’d never shown the slightest awareness of him as a man. Or
sweetness. Stubborn, fierce, competitive—Piper was all of those. Sweet,
however, was not part of her vocabulary.
He didn’t even like sweet.
He tucked her bag of candy into his pocket
before it flew away. See? Nothing but trouble.
“We’ll renegotiate,” he stated firmly.
“Cheater,” she said, a small smile curling
her lips, and the delight in her voice matched the grin on her face. “You’re a
cheater, Cal Brennan.”
He had no idea what she was talking about.
Up, down, sideways. He never knew where he stood with Piper, other than on her
shit list. He seemed to have a permanent place there. But that was Piper. She
was confusing, annoying and definitely…sexy? It had to be a residual from
seeing her bare breasts the other day.
Her spectacular, beautiful, completely naked
breasts.
He could feel an answering grin tugging at
the corner of his mouth. “Piper,” he crooned. “You’re not making any sense.”
And…his words were the match to her tinder.
“Shut up,” she snapped. “And hold on.”
She muttered something else he couldn’t
quite catch—but she’d always had a potty mouth, so he could make an educated
guess—and then hooked a finger in the front of his T-shirt, dragging him toward
her. He could have stopped her. He was bigger, and he outweighed her by at
least eighty pounds. And yet he leaned obediently toward her. Another first for
him.
The ride lurched into its final, lightning-quick
round, the music building to a deafening roar. His stomach lurched right along,
and Piper laughed, her face glowing. She’d always loved riding this
monstrosity. He was close enough now to see the paler gold ring in her brown gaze
and the freckle by the corner of one eye.
Her hands bunched in his shirt, knuckles
brushing his skin, the metal of the dog tags he wore to remember. He had no
idea what she was up to. Piper was one surprise after another. She’d never been
prone to violence, though, so he figured he’d stay safely in the swing.
She slid over. Up. Working the swing and
gravity and God knew what else until her butt was planted firmly in his lap. Surprise.
“Piper—” Her name came out sterner than he’d
intended. A warning, because not everything had to be a game between them.
“Shh,” she whispered, her eyes twinkling. “I’m
working on a safety violation here.”
She pressed her mouth against his, and his
arms snapped around her, anchoring her. Because they were turning, whirling,
and he didn’t want her flying out of the swing. Nope. He didn’t want her hurt,
even if he wasn’t sure what else he did want.
Her mouth was a wicked surprise, her lips
soft and giving as they brushed his. Slightly sticky, too, from the taffy, but
he could work with that. He’d never thought of Piper as sweet before tonight—in
fact, he tried hard to not
think about her because he’d suspected danger years ago—but the sugar glossing
her lips tempted him to have just a taste of her.
“Wow, Cal.” She didn’t sound pissed off,
which was a pleasant change from her usual mood.
Was that a “yes, do it again”?
With his tongue, he traced the line where her lips met, his hands curving into
the small of her back, his fingers skimming bare skin where her shirt had
ridden up. Definitely a “yes, do it again” from him.
She kissed him and the soft contact was all
it took to set his head spinning more wildly than the swings. Just like that,
he forgot they didn’t like each other and that they were, in fact, competing
for the same job. Her lips brushed his, teasing and candy sweet, and his pulse
hammered out of control.
Piper was kissing him.
It should have seemed strange or awkward,
but somehow, all her touch felt like to him was right. He’d known her for years
and never imagined doing this. She pressed into him, centrifugal force pinning
her against his chest as the ride swung them briefly out over the ocean, but
his arm around her waist kept her there when the ride evened out.
Piper kissed with her eyes open. The look on
her face was intent, fierce and more than a little puzzled. That made two of
them. Her ponytail flew out behind her as the swings turned, curly strands
escaping every which way. The pink flush on her cheeks had nothing to do with
makeup. With Piper, what you saw was what you got.
He only wished he knew why she wanted to
kiss him.
Curiosity got the better of him, however, so
he gently ran his fingers down her eyes, coaxing her to shut them. He couldn’t
turn his head off with her staring at him. Couldn’t lose himself in her. She
drove him crazy, but right now kissing her was absolutely what he wanted to be
doing, so he angled his mouth over hers, taking control of it.
She whispered his name as he kissed her
slowly, deeply, slipping inside her mouth and swallowing the small hums of
sound she made. She curled tighter against him and he held on, as if letting go
suddenly wasn’t an option and not just because she might fly off the swing. She
tasted like saltwater taffy and sunlight, all the good things in life. She didn’t
do this any more quietly than she did anything, however. She made noise. Lots
and lots of noise. Hums and groans, gasps and a sexy whimper that made him wish
they were anywhere but in public.
Threading a hand through her hair, he cupped
her head. She didn’t pull away, just moaned, and the raw sound jolted through
him, so he kissed her some more.
The ride slowed.
He lifted his head. She pulled back, sliding
out of his lap. The swing coasted lower and lower, momentum lost, the Pleasure
Pier coming into focus. He might as well have posted a picture on Facebook,
because the entire resident population of Discovery Island would know about the
kiss before tomorrow morning. Way to
go, sailor.
His feet bumped the ground, and Lenny
immediately headed their way, a big grin splitting his face.
“I should charge you double,” the old man
snorted.
Piper laughed, snagging her bag of taffy
from Cal’s pocket. “Like you haven’t seen riders kiss before.”
She didn’t deny what had happened, didn’t
seem bothered at all. No, he was the only one who felt off balance. On the
other hand—he grinned as Lenny unhooked their swing to let them out—winning—and
losing—had never looked so good. He wanted the contract and the woman—winner take all.
“I’m looking forward to winning our bet,”
she said throatily. Then she hopped down with a jaunty, “See you,” and sashayed
down the pier.
Right. The bet he’d been so determined to call off…and
that he now had every intention of winning, because holding Piper in his arms
for a night suddenly sounded a whole letter better—not to mention hotter—than
any contract.
I
live in Northern California with my husband, two kids and six cats. After ten
years of graduate school and too many degrees, I escaped to become a technical
writer. When not planted firmly in front of the laptop translating Engineer
into English, I enjoy gardening, running (even if it’s just to the 7-11 for
slurpees), and reading books curled up with my kids. The best part of writing
romance, however, is finally being able to answer the question: “So… what do
you do with a PhD in Slavic Languages and Literatures?” You can visit me online
at www.anne-marsh.com.
Author Links
Website: http://www.anne-marsh.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/annemarshauthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/anne_marsh/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/AnneMarsh
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/annemarshauthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/anne_marsh/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/AnneMarsh
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