Wicked Heat Read Online Free Page B

it was par for the course, that
     everyone in the Hollywood limelight copped it. She’d accepted it, but she hadn’t liked
     it. Liked less the fact that there was an element of truth in the crap they printed.
    She did feel cold inside. Untouchable. Like no one could broach the brittle veneer
     she’d constructed to protect herself a long time ago.
    Yet in fifteen minutes, Jett Halcott, with a wicked twinkle in his eyes and a decadent
     smile, had warmed her in a way she’d never thought possible.
    “Is this seat available?”
    The champagne flute slipped from her fingers and fell to the carpet as she stared
     in disbelief at the guy she’d been fantasizing about.
    “What the hell are you doing here?”
    “I’ll take that as a yes.” He sat and grinned at her like it was the most natural
     thing in the world for him to be here. “Miss me?”
    Wishing she hadn’t had the champagne to cloud her brain, she shook her head and immediately
     regretted it when everything in her orbit spun. “You didn’t answer my question.”
    “And you didn’t answer mine.” His forearm brushed hers on the armrest and she jumped.
     “I guess you just did.”
    “I’d have to care to miss you,” she said, tilting her nose a fraction in the air,
     spoiling her act when his fingers deliberately grazed her wrist and she sighed.
    “You care,” he said, tracing a circle over her pulse point and sending a shudder of
     longing through her. “I intend to prove how much by the end of this flight.”
    She snatched her hand away and tried to drag up some righteous indignation. “You knew
     you were on this flight and you didn’t tell me?”
    He shrugged, infuriatingly smug. “What’s there to tell? We shared a drink at the bar,
     now we’ll share…a few more here.”
    His deliberate pause led her to believe he wanted to share a lot more besides drinks.
     Oh no…that’s the moment she remembered the very last thing she’d said to him. A feisty
     challenge thrown out in the heat of the moment to a stranger she’d never see again.
    You and me. Naked. Having hot and sweaty, unforgettable, wild, climb-the-walls sex.
    By the lascivious gleam in his green-eyed gaze, she wasn’t the only one who remembered.
    She was so busted.
    “We’ll be taking off soon.” She gestured at the other first-class compartments. “Shouldn’t
     you get back to your seat?”
    She knew his response before he spoke, as his lips curved into a taunting smirk.
    “This is my seat.”
    Eight hours in a private compartment with him ?
    Allegra didn’t know whether to punch him for orchestrating this, or jump him.
    “ Your seat shouldn’t have been available.” She glared at him through narrowed eyes, reverting
     to type, not wanting him to see how seriously rattled she was by his appearance. And
     the fact that these seats could convert to a big bed when the lights turned down.
     “How did you do it?”
    He smirked. “You know that thing you have for my accent? Maybe the check-in girls
     weren’t so immune to it, either.”
    She snorted. “Insufferable and cocky. Could there be a worse combination?”
    “Vegemite and pavlova.”
    She bit back the urge to laugh at his humor. “What?”
    “You have heard of Vegemite and pav, right? Aussie icon foods?”
    She had, but he was having so much fun in his righteous smugness she’d let him run
     with it. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”
    “Heathen,” he said, his teasing smile doing weird things to her pulse. “Imagine a
     black, salty yeast paste. That’s Vegemite.”
    She screwed up her nose, when in fact she’d tried it at a post-Oscars party once and
     loved it.
    “And pavlova is a meringue-based, cream-filled dessert topped with fresh fruit or
     chocolate crumbs.”
    Yum. “Your point?”
    “You asked about bad combinations, I just gave you one.” He winked. “Pity. I thought
     you were more than just a pretty face.”
    She would’ve puffed up in outrage, considering that he’d implied