Trick Me, Treat Me Read Online Free Page B

“Don’t tell on me. You keep my secret and I’ll keep yours.”
    Her first instinct was confusion, then panic set in. Gwen kept only one secret—Hildy’s history. But he couldn’t know that. No one did. He had to be bluffing.
    She tilted her head and eyed him with every bit of false bravado she could manage. “Why do you think I have a secret?”
    He practically tsked. “Everyone has secrets. Besides, I’m an expert,” he whispered, stepping even closer until he wasonly a foot away. So close she felt his warmth radiating toward her.
    She almost swayed toward him, almost let that warmth envelop her more fully. “An expert?” She kept her feet planted, even as some deep, feminine part of her ached to step closer.
    He nodded. “Absolutely. And I know one secret of yours. I don’t imagine many people know you visit the kitchen dressed so…interestingly…late at night.” His dark eyes grew darker. His jaw grew tight, and she heard the faint, ragged rasp of his breath.
    Gwen followed his pointed stare, looking down at her body, clad in the silkiest, softest white nightgown she possessed. Then she swallowed. Hard. Seeing herself as he must be seeing her.
    The deeply slashed neckline glittered with tiny pearl-like beads that picked up and reflected the meager light in the room. The fabric clung across her breasts, which were pushed high, plumped up and spilling over because of the tight bodice.
    She could have claimed it was the cold autumn night that made her nipples pucker so tightly against the gown.
    She could also have claimed to be engaged to Ben Affleck and having an affair with Brad Pitt. That didn’t make it true.
    Though she thought of how foolish she’d been not to grab her robe, a deep-rooted part of Gwen liked the admiration in his eyes. Her track record with romance was damned pathetic. The blow to her confidence brought on by her broken engagement had killed her instinct to even try to attract the opposite sex.
    How funny. She now remembered what she’d once so very much liked about attracting the opposite sex. That lookin a man’s eye. The one that promised more than any words could. And hinted he could back up his unspoken promise anytime, anywhere.
    Maybe even here and now.
    “I didn’t remember to bring my robe,” she finally said, wondering how a perfect stranger could bring out the woman she’d thought was lost forever. “I should get it.”
    “Don’t go to any trouble on my account.” The intensity in his voice made the words less playful than he may have intended.
    Watching his jaw clench, she sucked in a quick gulp of heady night air. How amazing that a man’s stare could make her heart trip over itself as it beat restlessly within her chest. But not with fear. This was pure, one hundred percent excitement.
    Gwen smoothed her hand against her nightie, nervously fingering the material. Its slickness slid between her fingers. The gown fit tightly to her hips, then fell in undulating waves to the floor. Two slits made the fabric gap from ankle to thigh. With every shift, another bit of skin would be revealed. Tempting. Tantalizing. Heightening the anticipation as any self-respecting wedding night negligee should.
    Fate. Fate or one of the ghosts in this house had made the pipe in her room break right over most of her clothes, damaging all her nightgowns except this one…the one she was supposed to have worn on her honeymoon. The one she’d kept after she’d canceled the wedding, sold her dress, hocked her ring and delivered the cake to a homeless shelter.
    Because, after finding her bastard of an ex giving more than dictation to his secretary a few days before their wedding, she’d needed one sultry, seductive, feminine thing, to remind her she was a desirable woman. His cheating hadmade her doubt herself. The nightie gave her confidence, though no one had ever seen her in it. Until now. And judging by the raw want in his eyes, this stranger definitely thought she was a desirable