Tamed by You by Kate Perry Read Free Book Online Page A

a match, so she kissed Venus good-bye and let herself out of her apartment. She closed the door behind her, walked down the steps, and made a very short U-turn to go down the steps to her office.
    She didn't expect to run into someone . A very solid someonewho felt like a wall of bricks. " Oof ."
    Hands clasped her as she ricocheted backward, pulling her into a hard body and the scent of fresh soap.
    She didn't need to look up to know who was holding her. She knew it by the jittery feeling deep in her belly and the goose bumps that rose on her arms. Swallowing, she looked into his eyes. "You're here."
    "You ordered me to be here," he mumbled in his deep voice.
    Maybe it was because she was so close—close enough to see the dark flecks in his gray eyes—but she swore she saw a glimmer of amusement there. "Do you always do what you're ordered?"
    He tugged her a little closer. "Depends on who does the ordering."
    She felt her face flushing—darn her redheaded complexion. She gently stepped out of his arms and lifted her head. "How about I open the door and we get down to business?"
    He did nothing but raise his eyebrow.
    "Not like that. I'm going to build a profile for you, to match you to the perfect woman."
    He stared at her, looking like he wanted to growl. But he just said, "I need to talk to you about that."
    A chill San Francisco breeze blew up her skirt, and she shivered.
    He stepped around her, blocking the wind. "Let's go inside first."
    Her heart flopped at his chivalry. He was like the French knights in the old books her grandmother used to read to them at bedtime. She stifled the urge to kiss him—on the cheek, of course—and went down the steps to unlock the door. She motioned him to follow.
    He had to duck to enter. S he turned on the neon Matchmaker sign, watching him check out her office.
    "This is"—he frowned as he poked at one of her chairs—"the ugliest place I've ever seen."
    She looked around at the Victorian furniture, all the glass, and the gold accents and privately had to agree. Not that she'd ever admit it. Her mother would kill her. "It's classic."
    "It's something." He glared at the chair in front of him. "Will this break if I sit on it?"
    If it did, she'd thank him. S he just said, "Don't be silly."
    " Silly? " He looked at her like she'd called him a girlie-boy , but he still sat on the offending chair.
    She supposed silly was the last word anyone would ever use to describe him. Sexy, wild, hunky—all applicable. Gorgeous, yes. Untamed, definitely.
    He frowned at her. "Why are you staring at me like that?"
    "Like what?"
    "Like you haven't had breakfast and I look like French toast."
    She loved French toast. Lowering her gaze, s he tugged her skirt down and crossed her legs. "I'm simply assessing you."
    "Don't."
    S h e blinked. "Why not?"
    "I'm not interested in dating anyone."
    "But you're here."
    "Because you told me to be here."
    No wonder Marley had nicknamed him "the Hulk." He sounded just like his namesake . It made her want to grin, but she knew he wouldn't appreciate that, so she bit her lip to keep herself in check. "You could have said no."
    "You didn't give me a chance." He stood up, towering over her.
    "If that's my cue to be intimidated, it's not going to work." Because he just looked hot, like he could sling her over his shoulder and carry her off to his lair. Ignoring an unfortunate shiver of excitement, s he stood up and met him toe-to-toe. "You had every chance to say no. I think secretly you wanted to come here. Deep down inside, I think you're tired of being alone."
    His nostrils flared, and he leaned toward her. "I'm not interested in dating."
    She inhaled his scent and wanted to sink her face in his neck to breathe him in more. "Everyone's interested in dating."
    " Are y ou?"
    "Yes, I am ."
    " So you date ?"
    "I do." Not very well, but she deserved an "A" for effort.
    His gaze narrowed and he looked like he wanted to hit someone.
    "But we're not talking about me ," she