What a Woman Gets by Judi Fennell Read Free Book Online Page A

her . . .
    Okay, it was time to leave.
    He dug a dog treat out of the mess, managed to close the cabinet door without any of the contents spilling out, and tossed the eraser-like treat to the dog.
    Now
she started yipping. Of course.
    Liam sighed and went around the place to make sure he hadn’t left anything. That’d be a rookie mistake and Mac didn’t hire rookies.
    The muffin with four legs wouldn’t stop yipping. It was so high-pitched Liam couldn’t call it a bark, but it got on his nerves worse than any bark he’d ever heard. Their next-door neighbor growing up had had a beagle, and while that dog had had a spine-tingling howl, that dog had nothing on this thing. Liam couldn’t get out of here fast enough.
    Which meant, of course, that he was stuck there when he couldn’t find the extension attachment for the vacuum. Shit. He retraced his steps, starting in her bathroom—yeah, yeah, that made no sense, since there was nothing to vacuum in there, but best to start at the beginning and work his way out.
    He was on his hands and knees half under her bed again when she returned home.
    This wasn’t going to look good. Especially since the attachment was all the way by the wall, which meant he had to do that stupid snake-move to grab it and get back out without ripping his shirt or dislodging that bracelet and picture.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” she asked.
    â€œFishing.” Ask a stupid question, get a smart-ass answer. He humped his way back out—and snagged his shirt again. “Dammit.”
    â€œCatch something?”
    He could hear the smile in her voice. She knew exactly what’d happened. “Everything’s fine.”
    â€œUh huh.”
    The bed creaked.
    â€œWhat are
you
doing?”
    â€œTaking my shoes off.”
    Damn if she wasn’t. He had a bird’s eye—and ankle—view. And it was a hell of a nice ankle. So was the arch in her foot. And the bright blue nail polish on her toes . . .
    Hmmm. She didn’t look like the bright blue sort of woman. Not with that flesh-colored outfit. Muted, understated, but reeking of money—
that
was Cassidy Davenport. The blue nail polish was some hippie chick he wouldn’t mind tumbling into bed with for an afternoon of hot, sweaty, amazing sex.
    Oh hell. Now he had the image of tipping Cassidy Davenport back onto the bed and peeling the muted, understated things off her one inch at a time and kissing his way right behind them.
    Good thing his groin was pressed against the carpet.
    Then she knelt down beside him. “Here. Let me help.”
    He didn’t need her kind of help. And he was just about to tell her so when she put one hand on his lower back and the other one under the bed between his shoulder blades.
    Holy hell, the woman’s touch shot fire through him. Fire Liam didn’t want or need. It
figured
she’d affect him like this. He’d thought he was immune. That he’d learned his lesson, but apparently his hormones hadn’t gotten that memo.
    â€œYou’re caught.”
    In more ways than one. “You go to college to learn that?”
    â€œSmart ass.” She flicked her fingers and his shirt was free.
    Which meant he could come out, but only if his dick decided to cooperate.
    Of course it didn’t. Especially when she stumbled as she was getting up, and her hand landed square on his ass.
    â€œYou did that on purpose.” He got himself out of that position pronto, turning the verbal tables on her to cover up the fact that he was still hard under these stupid pants. Pants that left nothing to the imagination—both his hard dick and the feel of her fingers on his ass. Mac needed to get another uniform.
    â€œDon’t flatter yourself.” She managed to get herself back onto the bed—why???—and smoothed her blouse into place.
    Her nipples were hard.
    Liam smirked. Couldn’t help himself. He affected