The Virgin's Revenge by Dee Tenorio Read Free Book Online

woman. Not a lover. Not even a fling.
    Suddenly, she was never angrier in her life.
    And he probably knew it.
    Granted, it was probably hard to miss the brunt of the helmet pounding into his solar plexus, but that wasn’t her problem. She’d thanked him for the ride even as he called her name. It felt good to ignore him and close the door to her house with him still trying to get her attention.
    What he didn’t know was that he did have her attention. And if it killed her, she was about to get his. Dumb idea or not, she was going to seduce Cole Engstrom until his eyes crossed.
    Better yet, until her eyes crossed.
    She turned to the side now, eying the fit of the peacock feather thong across her hip. She had more lingerie than a woman without a lover—or a prospect—ought, but for all of that, she had yet to find anything that would definitely knock Cole for a loop. This particular set was one of Susie’s personal creations, a thank-you gift for modeling it for the new catalog she had been putting together for her upcoming Christmas line.
    Susie had woven the iridescent green and blue threads of the feathers into the black string over the hips, saving the eye-tips for the spray of them fanning her tailbone and for the swath dipping between her thighs. The matching bra demi-cupped her breasts, the tops decorated with more of the multi-colored feathers. The little strands rested on the tops of her bosom, inviting a lover to slide them out of the way for heated kisses.
    This was the twelfth set of bras and panties she’d put on this morning, and it wasn’t any more right than the others before it. They’d all looked fine in the pictures but, really, what didn’t look great under studiously controlled lighting after a couple bottles of wine while she and Susie laughed at their own nearly bare asses?
    In the real—more importantly, sober—world, Amanda couldn’t help the flutter in her stomach or the nerves that had the corners of her lips pulled taut. When she figured out how to get him into her house, would he see her in this and laugh? Think she was ridiculous and pathetic? Or would he choke on sudden, desperate desire?
    If the shadows were right, she judged, running her hand over her hip and imagining the fingers were his, he just might. Candlelight, maybe. Or flames from the fireplace she’d never once had cause to light. That might be just the thing.
    Some nights, when she was feeling indulgent, she lit all the candles in her bathroom and took endless bubble baths, basking in the fact that no one was pounding on the door for her to hurry. She rather thought her legs looked all kinds of sensual when the little flames glistened off her wet skin.
    Cole might find her sensual too…
    No. She crushed that bit of over-romantic whimsy ruthlessly. Sensual wouldn’t cut it. Cole knew her too well for sensual to do anything but make him uncomfortable. What she wanted was something to make him swallow his tongue and turn as blue in the face as he’d get in the balls. Atomic sexuality. Nothing less would be incentive enough to overcome his brotherly way of thinking. Something that would grab his cock from the second he laid eyes on her and not let go until she had what she wanted. Somewhere in this pile of lace, silk, satins and even a few bits of leather, she’d find the right thing to crack Cole Engstrom. She hadn’t lived with six brothers for nothing. If she’d learned anything from the way they lost the ability to speak, think, breathe or even hold in their drool, flash enough skin and men would happily have sex with a porcupine.
    Except Locke.
    But he didn’t count anyway.
    The only one who mattered right now was Cole—
    A knock on her door had her nearly jumping out of her feathers.
    “Hey, Amanda? You in there?”
    The good news was that the voice didn’t belong to any of her brothers. The bad news was that it wasn’t Cole either.
    “Amanda?” The shadow passed into the frame of her window just before the