Read By Invitation Only for Free Online Page B

pictures over the years.”
    “They did, but apparently you’re a dead ringer for Honey.”
    Olivia was impressed with Nick’s research, but she didn’t want him to know that. “How did you find all this out?”
    “J. D. Maynard was just in that hammock.”
    “You didn’t give yourself away, did you?”
    Nick made a derisive noise. “Oh, ye of little faith. I know what I’m doing. I told him that you swept me off my feet when we met in Hawaii while we both were attending a teachers’ conference and we’d gotten engaged after only knowing each other a couple of weeks.”
    “I’ve got to hand it to you—you’re good.”
    “What’s that? A compliment?” Nick cupped his free hand around his ear as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Does this mean I get the bed?”
    “You get the bed,” she grudgingly conceded.
    “Told ya. People research always trumps internet research,” he boasted.
    “For you, maybe. Bloggers have the luxury of using gossip. Print journalists can’t be so cavalier. We have to triple-check our facts.”
    “You’re insinuating that I never check my facts. That’s elitist bullshit,” Nick said. “Internet journalists aren’t any less valid than print journalists. In fact, we’re the wave of the future. You can’t fight the tsunami. One day, you’re going to be an internet journalist yourself or be dead in the water.”
    “You’re not a journalist,” she said. “You’re a blogger. Big difference. Mostly you’ve been lucky all your life. Things just seem to fall into your lap.”
    The minute the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. Nick’s face fell and she could tell she’d hit a nerve. She knew he didn’t have a degree in journalism, that he’d dropped out of college. What she hadn’t known was how much that bothered him, but the expression in his eyes told the story.
    “So about this no scooping each other thing,” she said, backtracking. “Here’s what’s in it for you. Holding back will prove your journalistic integrity. It will show me that bloggers are as good as print journalists.”
    “I don’t have to prove a damn thing to you.” He let go of her hammock and got out of his, coming to his feet to tower over her. He looked down and she felt her heart leap into her throat.
    “Listen,” she said, “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean—”
    “Don’t worry,” he cut her off. “The bed is yours. I wouldn’t share a room with you if you paid me.”
    Olivia bailed out of her hammock, surprised at how easily she got up without tripping herself. She moved to block his way, hemming him in with the hammocks on either side of him, a palm tree at his back, and sank her hands on her hips. “Oh, no, buster. You won the bet, you take the bed.”
    “Get out of my way, Honey. ”
    “I don’t know why you’re getting so testy, I’m the one who got hijacked to this island.”
    “Don’t start blaming me again. You’re a big girl. Accept responsibility for your actions. Now please step aside before I do something I’ll regret.”
    Olivia raised her chin, pushing him, daring him. “Go ahead, do it.”
    He stalked forward. Olivia stood her ground.
    “For the record, I won’t scoop you because I pity you. Being a print journalist in this day and age has reduced you to pathetic insults. Keep on clinging to that journalistic integrity crap. It’s all you’ve got to keep you afloat.”
    “Oh, yeah?”
    “Yeah.”
    He peered into her eyes. She absorbed the punishing stare. All moisture drained from her mouth. The next thing she knew, he had snugged her up tight in his arms, yanked her off her feet and kissed her with a power that sucked every ounce of air from her lungs.
    Her head whirled. Her heart thundered. Her lips dissolved into the masculine maelstrom. He kissed her until she couldn’t breathe and her world tilted upside down.
    “There,” he said, pulling his lips away and setting her on her feet. “Let that be a lesson to