Wanton Heat (A Feel the Heat Novel) (Entangled Brazen) Read Free

her hand between them. “You and me? We’re both strong personalities used to getting our own way. So stands to reason we’re going to butt heads and verbally spar for the next week.”
    Intrigue darkened his eyes to midnight. “Go on.”
    “I’m a natural flirt. It’s my thing. But you…” She shook her head. “You’re the prince of Osturo, and as long as you don’t agree to my business proposal, you’re also the enemy. So quit trying to unnerve me with your hot and cold act, and your lame-ass innuendoes, got it?”
    Before he could respond, she pointed to his chest. “And for fuck’s sake, put some clothes on.”
    She expected him to bristle or glower or order her the hell off his property. Instead, he tilted his head, as if studying her, before giving her a brisk nod.
    “If your presentation is as interesting as you, guess it wouldn’t hurt to hear you out.” With another deliberately insolent stare that swept her from head to foot, he strode away, leaving her with a tantalizing view of a firm ass she yearned to kick. Hard.
    …
    While their houseguest freshened up, Dominic paced the rooftop conservatory.
    When he’d been a child needing to escapethe adult cheek-pinchers at the many lavish parties his parents hosted, he’d head for this room. Perched on the third floor at the farthest corner of the west wing, it had the best views of the island and surrounding ocean. And on a clear day, if he squinted really hard, he swore he could see his favorite place on the planet.
    Ancora.
    He’d traveled the world many times, had spent several years studying economics at Oxford and later living in London, but no place was home like Ancora.
    As a young boy, the weekends his parents would whisk him away there were the happiest of his life, and later, in his teens, he’d make time to chill there whenever he needed R&R. He’d spent a week there after his parents’ death, and a month after Lilia’s. Grieving. Remembering. Forgiving.
    It was his sanctuary.
    And if Zoe Keaton had her way, it would be swarming with tourists.
    Merda.
    He continued pacing, oblivious to the polished marble-tiled floor and massive arched windows that let in the light from dawn to dusk, only pausing to stab at a button to open the retractable roof that brought the outdoors in. He liked that, the feeling of not being boxed in and confined. Freedom.
    He yearned for it. A life without the heritage of hundreds of years dogging his every decision. But if the tragedy of the last five years had taught him anything, it was no use wishing for life to be different. He had to cope with the hand he’d been dealt and get on with the job. The job of ensuring that Osturo, his birthplace, and the adjoining island that his family owned, Ancora, prospered.
    He’d been doing a shitty job of it so far, but that was all about to change according to that brazen American woman who’d strutted onto the castle grounds as if she were the queen instead of Catarina.
    He should’ve known she was trouble the moment he caught sight of her blatantly ogling him. He should’ve given her marching orders. She was just like everyone else who entered his sphere: she wanted something.
    In her case, she planned to bring tourists to Ancora. Yeah, like he’d allow that to happen. Destroying such a beautiful part of the world was sacrilege, even if he hadn’t made a promise to himself to maintain it as is. His father’s plans for the islands had been simple: preserve their pristine beauty, especially that of wild Ancora. And in honor of his dad’s memory, Dominic hadn’t touched a thing. He owed his father that much. So Kaluna’s proposed expansion and worldwide ad campaign? Not going to happen.
    But because of the way she’d sparked his sexual interest, for an insane moment he’d wished she were different, that she didn’t want something from him.
    He’d endured schemers his entire life and had learned over the years that people would go to any lengths to get what