Swindled (Close Contact Book 1) Read Free

wonder women tossed themselves at him, along with anything else he wanted. Harper stomped her rage on each of the seventy-two stairs it took to reach her apartment door. She’d done many difficult things on the force, but none had come close to walking away from Magnus Declan. Pheromones wafted off the man’s skin in potent waves as detrimental as forest fires. But the unexpected sincerity, combined with his uninhibited manner, proved the most dangerous aspect, aside from his pure physicality.
    A single lamplight welcomed Harper home. She locked the door and dropped her clutch, thigh holster, and tiny Colt onto the end table. Flipping off the torturous heels, she trudged past the cozy seating area and kitchenette. Fluffy white cotton pillowed her reverse-swan-dive onto the bed. A shower was in order. The absence of his sexy musk would make the night easier, but she wasn’t ready to let go just yet. Feet dangling over the edge, she tossed an arm over her eyes, and weathered the discord between her body and mind.
    A tap sounded at the window.
    On any other night, Harper would have lurched for her gun. Tonight, only one person was crazy enough to risk life and limb on her rusty fire escape. The only question was why?
    She eased her arm from her face, and her head toward the window. Declan’s frame clogged her twinkling city view. He’d removed his tie and coat. Sinewy forearms shone tan beneath rolled cuffs. In two fingers, he held a six-pack mix of Birra Moretti and Asahi Kuronama. Instead of a smile or smolder, his handsome face was set in neutral.
    Her heart skittered. So she flung herself off the bed and stomped to the window. The rickety thing opened smoothly on an easy pull, because she was the only one crazy enough to dangle her feet through the railing and watch the city each night before bed.
    Harper braced her hand on the frame, barring his entrance. “I’m not worth wining and dining or beering and fucking. As you can see.” She flipped a hand toward the coffee table that doubled as a dining table. “There’s no big payout.”
    When they hit the ledge, the beer bottles clinked together. Declan’s hands wrapped her waist, and he plucked her off her feet.
    She clutched his biceps for balance and ducked as he hoisted her through the window.
    “Payouts come in many forms, Harper.” His hard chest pinned her to the brick. One hand skated to her ass for support while the other heated a path to her neck. Her legs dangled in thin air. “From what I’ve seen, this is my most justifiable risk-reward to date.”
    The words rumbled beneath his stout muscles, vibrating against her breast. A hint of champagne wafted off his breath as his lips drew near.
    “How about you?”
    Her conscience screamed, “No!” But her nipples beaded, and her clit pulsed against the tip of his erection. Harper bit her lip to keep from screaming, “Yes!” Her hands fisted in the starch of his shirt, and her body strained in defiance of her control.
    “Why me?” Harper’s head shook. “No, I know why. You’re just trying to screw my case.”
    “You don’t have a case. No one does. What I do is legend and morally reprehensible, but not illegal in most states or provinces.” The middle of his brow pinched, and his tone dropped. “I’m trying to screw you, not your case.”
    He pressed her so hard with his body it forced the air from her lungs. “Yes,” she whispered with the last of her breath.
    His hands seized the split of her dress and yanked. The delicate material shrieked. Sultry night air blew across her bare cheeks. He levered back, but his expression elicited a gasp. Animalistic lust tensed his features. With practiced hands he hiked her onto his hips and guided her legs around his torso.
    Harper moaned at the shock of full contact with his rigid girth.
    “Kiss me, Harper. Show me you want this as much as I do. I’m desperate for you.”
    The silk of his hair tickled her fingers as she wound them full of his locks.