Read Flirting with Sin for Free Online Page A

appear pathetic and weak in his eyes.
    “Nothing.” His gaze narrowed, and she shrugged. “I’m just PMSing.” Any red-blooded male would turn tail and run at those three dreaded letters.
    He snorted, not releasing his grasp on her face or appearing the least bit intimidated. Well, shit.
    “Nice try. Now,” he whisked the pad of his thumb along the tender skin beneath her bottom lip, “tell me who hurt you.”
    Shock stampeded over her. The combination of his incisive—and intrusive—statement and the sensual touch grazing her mouth… She shivered. Jerked out of his grip. But not before she caught the darkening of his eyes. Standing this close, no way could he have missed her body’s reaction to his caress. Humiliation crawled through her.
    At eighteen, she’d fantasized about him giving her “the look” and choosing her out of all the screaming, half-naked women in the audience. The wish had been a school girl dream. And, years later, never would she have believed one day she would meet the object of those fantasies in real life. On stage, on television, on posters, he was charismatic, vibrant. In life—less than five feet away—he was irresistible. Potent. Dangerous. An unrealistic, impossible fantasy had suddenly sprang to life, and the odds of her falling hard scared the shit out of her.
    Troy she could get over—had gotten over.
    But Ari?
    He would leave a hole no man could fill.
    Okay, she needed space. From him. From the heat radiating from his bared flesh. From the temptation of skin begging to be petted, kissed, licked. Worshipped.
    Her hips bumped the edge of the counter as she backed away from him. Grasping on to the only weapon he’d left her, she hurled words at him like a Hail Mary grenade.
    “Share with me why you got wasted. What had you locked up in a room drinking alone? And don’t tell me nothing,” she mocked, throwing his demand back at him.
    His lashes lowered, concealing his gaze. A cold mask descended over his face, the sharp angles stark and harsh. Instantly, she regretted the words and wished she could renege and snatch them back. Desperation—hell, survival—had propelled the verbal slap from her mouth. She had to spend the next five days with him. If she wanted to survive with her pride and, God forbid, her heart intact, she had to place distance—emotional and physical distance—between them.
    Because she knew herself. Too well.
    Troy. Jacob. Harrison.
    Their names were etched into the tombstones littering her love life. Men she’d believed she’d loved. Believed had loved her in return. All because she’d fallen so hard, so fast. Greedy for someone to need her, want her, adore her, she’d turned a blind eye to the glaring, neon caution signs— Asshole Ahead .
    Yes, she knew herself. It would be easy to dive head and heart first into an infatuation with Ari. What woman with working ovaries wouldn’t? Gorgeous. Fierce. Sensual. And with a wounded heart still grieving for a woman he’d lost three years earlier.
    She needed to keep her distance.
    Because if she didn’t, five days from now she would walk away from this castle with her heart ripped to shreds by a rock star.
     

 
     
     
     
Five

    “T o forget.”
    Neveah skidded to a halt several feet from the door of their suite and turned toward Ari, confusion etched on her face. Not that he blamed her bewilderment. An hour and a half had passed since she’d basically run from the kitchen—and him. Ninety minutes was a huge lag in conversation time.
    She frowned. “I’m sorry. What?”
    Propping a shoulder against the wall next to his bedroom door jamb, he crossed his arms. “You asked me why I was alone in the room getting wasted. To forget.”
    He forced the explanation past his throat and lips even though his brain roared a WTF ? The subject of Caro was taboo. He didn’t talk about her to anyone. Joseph had tried to convince him to grant interviews about her death, but Ari had refused. And when