Dodging Temptation (The Retreat) by Avery Flynn Read Free Book Online Page A

Insta-hard didn ’ t even begin to describe it. The woman was probably a corporate spy who was blackmailing him and she still gave him a hard-on. That wasn ’ t right.
    Her step faltered the tiniest bit, and Griff grabbed her elbow before she lost her balance. Turning her head, she said something to him that Dodge couldn ’ t hear, but she must have thanked him, judging by how his younger brother gave his best aw-shucks smile and tipped his cowboy hat. He didn ’ t let go of her arm as they walked around the corner and out of sight.
    There was no reason for Griff to have kept touching her like that. Harper was more than capable of walking on her own, not that he cared if she fell into his little brother ’ s bed, but it could cause more problems. Office romances got messy fast, especially when it came to Griff, who wasn ’ t known for staying tangled in the same sheets for long. Dodge ’ s gut tightened, and the hip-high stone wall bit into the palms of his hands. Fuck it. If she wanted his brother, he wouldn ’ t stand in her way. Maybe Griff could get her to agree to the interview, and Dodge could have the pleasure of banning her from The Retreat. Then everyone would be happy, except for his bastard of a grandfather.
    Dodge stomped across the veranda and yanked the door open hard enough that it hit the wall and nearly rebounded against his head. Maybe a hard whack was what he needed to get thoughts of Harper and her pouty lips out of his brain for good.

Chapter Five
    A handful of late-night revelers spilled out of The Retreat ’ s low-key wine bar and onto the wide front porch. From there they could see nearly every star, glimmering with almost searchlight brightness in the inky black Wyoming sky. Dodge ’ s gaze skimmed the guests, looking for signs of discontent that needed to be smoothed over and spotted none. The relaxed faces of his guests should have set him at ease, but they didn ’ t.
    Everything about him was wound up as tight as a rubber band about to snap. Ready. Edgy. Revved up for action. He ’ d been like this since that woman had poked her head up above a stack of worn books in the library and told him she wasn ’ t going to play things his way. He ’ d pushed, and she ’ d stood her ground. That didn ’ t happen with him. His mother was wrong. He wasn ’ t the tree. He was the wind, and people bent to his will, but not Harper. She ’ d thrown everything out of whack.
    Loosening his jaw before he cracked a tooth, Dodge made his escape from the veranda before another guest in ten thousand dollars’ worth of diamonds tried to wheedle information out of him about the reporters skulking outside the gates. He squinted his eyes against the harsh brightness of the two-story lobby compared to the easy darkness outside. Taking inventory as he walked, he took mental notes so he ’ d remember to congratulate the staff on managing to balance the luxury and rustic charm of what was really a top-of-the-line log cabin on steroids.
    He should go straight up the grand staircase to the family quarters in the west wing, but swerved left around the steps without thinking too much about why. A minute later he sat inside The Retreat ’ s dimly lit library, the side door of which would open up to a short staff hallway leading to the kitchen. He had a sudden craving for mint chocolate chip ice cream and a deceptive corporate spy with a great ass.
    “Burning the midnight oil?” Griff peeled away from the library wall, a book in his hand and an ornery look on his face.
    Dodge slowed to a stop. “Just got the munchies.”
    “How convenient. Harper passed through here on her way to the kitchen a few minutes ago.” Griff snapped the book closed and slid it home on the bookshelf. “But then again, I expect you know that already.”
    He stiffened. “Is that why you ’ re here after you spent the afternoon sniffing after her heels?” Try as he might, Dodge hadn ’ t been able to get the image of the two of