Cabin Fever. Jillian Burns

Чтение книги онлайн.

       2

      “STOP RIGHT THERE.” Joe grabbed the wrist of the man trying to smear something on his eye.

      The guy’s lips flattened. He shoved his free hand on his hip, threw his head back and called out, “Ms. Pendleton!” in a high voice.

      Joe searched the crowded suite for his nemesis. The place was a circus this morning. Though he had to admit, the accommodations were nice. This suite was a mirror image of his.

      Last night he’d slept better than he expected. The shower head was too low, but that was par for him. The king-size bed had been comfortable, there was a sofa and a table with seating for two and the cabin even had a balcony.

      But he’d barely gotten himself a cup of coffee this morning before someone had knocked on his door to escort him here. He’d been dragged to a chair in front of a lighted mirror and a woman started trying to cut his hair.

      There had to be at least a dozen people in this cabin. Still, he easily found Carly Pendleton. She was the type to stand out in a crowd. Tall and slim, but she had curves in all the right places. Her skirt and blouse hugged her figure as if they’d been made for her. Which, come to think of it, they probably had. And her long, thick brunette hair had not a strand out of place, even at seven in the morning.

      But her best feature was her eyes. They were the color of arctic ice. A light blue so vivid they could capture a man’s gaze and freeze him where he stood, make him her prisoner until she deigned to set him free.

      He shivered just thinking about being trapped in her frigid world. A man could get frostbite.

      At the call of her name, Ms. Pendleton glanced over at the makeup guy, took another moment to nod and shake her head at a selection of clothing a woman held, and then walked over.

      Just watching her walk riveted Joe’s attention. The way she held her shoulders back and her chin slightly lifted, as if she was noble-born. She’d probably attended one of those fancy boarding schools. Surely, her father would’ve been able to afford it.

      The only thing he remembered about her father’s investment scandal was that his wife had claimed complete innocence of his scheme. The fact that the crook had a kid had barely registered.

      “What is it, Christoph?”

      “The gentleman won’t let me apply liner to his eyes.”

      She trained those icy blues on him. “Joe, I realize it seems emasculating, but the sunlight and the camera will wash out your eyes without a little liner. Surely you’re confident enough in your masculinity to allow a tiny bit of makeup?”

      Oh, well, if she was going to challenge his masculinity... He folded his arms. “No.”

      Irritation sparked in her eyes. Hmm, the ice queen heated up. This could be fun.

      She straightened her shoulders and folded her arms, too. His attention fixed on the outline of her lace bra through her thin silk blouse.

      “Mr. Tedesco.”

      He imagined her only in delicate lacy lingerie, some sheer stockings and those ridiculously high heels of hers. Barely cutting off a groan, he scanned the room for a pitcher of water. His throat was dry.

      “Mr. Tedesco? I already have one diva to deal with and she hasn’t even deigned to show up yet.” She tapped him on the shoulder. “Joe! Are you listening?”

      “What?” He pulled his mind back from the beginnings of a sensual daydream. Noticed the bottle of water on the table beside him and grabbed it.

      “I was saying that the liner won’t be at all noticeable in the final version of the photo.”

      He twisted the cap off, gulped a few swallows and dried his lips on his sleeve. “In that case...” He leaned forward and she leaned in, too. “It’s still no.”

      She jerked back, her eyes flared, anger spitting. Her perfectly shaped lips pinched. Her chest rose as she inhaled deeply. Then her face relaxed and she gave him a saccharine sweet smile. “Fine. We wouldn’t want your Man Card revoked, now would we?” She trained her eyes on the makeup guy. “Christoph, just a light dusting of powder on the nose so he doesn’t shine like Rudolph.”

      Her gaze zapped back to Joe. “Unless you’re too manly for that?”

      He grinned. “That’s fine.” No woman had ever talked to him this way before. Was this how all Manhattan women were? He’d lived in Brooklyn all his life, and the only women he hung around had known him since elementary school. To them he was Little Joey, the high school football hero.

      “Thank you so much. Is there anything else I should obtain your permission on before I resume directing my photo shoot?”

      He chuckled. “I’ll let you know.”

      Her fake smile disappeared. “Tony,” she called to a young man fiddling with some photo equipment. “Make sure the lighting on our Average Joe is filtered so he doesn’t wash out.” Then she spun on her heels and stalked back to the other side of the room.

      She had the temper of a back-alley dog. And he had a feeling her bite was worse than her bark.

      * * *

      “NO, THAT’S NOT WORKING.” Carly heaved a sigh and shook her head. Honestly, she didn’t know which one was worse, the high maintenance supermodel or the infuriatingly bullheaded contest winner. It didn’t help that her СКАЧАТЬ