Torrid Nights Read Online Free

agonizingly aware of his maleness and the few inches that separated them. “Keep your insulting opinions to yourself. If you can’t treat me as an employee, then—”
    “I haven’t had time to look at your personnel file,” he interrupted smoothly. “Have you always been single? No man in his right mind would marry someone like you.”
    Mackenna drew in a painful gasp of air, everything blurring before her. She spun around, hiding the tears that swam in her eyes. A startled cry broke from her lips as she felt his hand close about her arm, pulling her to a halt. She froze. His fingers burned like a hot brand into her flesh; she refused to look at him.
    “Dammit,” he growled, “where do you think you’re going?”
    “As far away from you as I can get. Now let me go!” she muttered, fighting back the lump in her throat. Oh, damn. Hot tears streaked down her taut cheeks.
    He sighed loudly. “I’m not in the habit of apologizing,” he said.
    Mackenna was achingly aware of his fingers, just firm enough to hold her without hurting her.
    “Even if you offered an apology, I wouldn’t accept it!” she said.
    “Look at me,” he ordered.
    Stubbornly, Mackenna thrust out her chin, stiffening her neck. “Go to hell.”
    The pressure of his fingers increased slightly on her arm, and Mackenna expected him to use physical force. Instead, the rough contact of his fingers sliding beneath her jaw to draw her head gently around created a startling sensation. But now he was forcing her chin up, and her lashes fell like thick fans against her cheeks. Hesitantly, she made a half turn toward him, toward those troubled blue eyes that were now searching her face with new interest. New life. Compassion? His mouth had lost that line of hatred, if only for a brief moment. He looked almost human. Approachable. “I’m sorry,” he said thickly.
    She couldn’t think when she was this close to him. His natural scent was perfume to her nostrils. The maleness of his body overwhelmed her dormant senses. Pulling away, she walked back to the couch, brushing the tears away quickly with the back of her hand. When she sat down, her face was dry, although her eyes were unnaturally bright.
    As her shoulders slumped, she could feel the exhaustion washing over her tense body. Her grief, still held in abeyance, raged unchecked in her heart. “Look,” she began with an effort, “I—this has been an awful day. Can we talk about the project tomorrow morning, before I go to work?”
    Mackenna could feel him approach the couch and stand very close to her. She looked up. He was watching her, an indecipherable expression in his eyes.
    “What are you staring at?” she demanded tightly.
    “You,” came the abrupt reply. The familiar huskiness had returned to his voice. “You’re a different breed of woman. How come you’re not throwing a tantrum? Dissolving into tears? Accusing me of being a callous—”
    “You don’t deserve to know my full range of emotions, Mr. Hampton,” she interrupted coolly. “You wouldn’t understand love or compassion.” Her tone was fervent. “All you know is greed. Greed, power and manipulation. I know the kind of man you are. You step all over people, and I’ll bet you’ve never shed a tear. If you have, it was undoubtedly over some financial loss.”
    He tilted his head, a dangerous glint replacing the chill in his gaze. “I am the way I am. I won’t apologize for it.”
    She managed a bitter, explosive laugh. “Yes, and I’m the way I am. But I don’t go around hurting people’s feelings because of it. You seem to enjoy causing pain.”
    “Well,” he snarled softly, “it was a woman who made me the way I am, Ms. Scott. I have a long memory. I know women. I know what they’re capable of.”
    “Oh, yes. We’re creatures of whim whose sole mission in life is to torture you,” she snapped. Raising her hand, she pointed her index finger at him. “But don’t you dare make the mistake of