Read The Seduction of Kinley Foster (What Happens in Vegas) for Free Online Page B

jackass.”
    Ian checked his watch.
    Was he anxious to get away from her? Was he meeting the check-in attendant somewhere?
    He looked at her. “And you’re responding like a teenager. All defensive. Just like the time I told you you couldn’t flirt your way off a paper plate.”
    She ignored the part of her brain telling her he was right. “You were an ass then, and you’re still an ass. And for your information, if I was behaving like a teenager, I’d do this.” She kicked at him under the table as hard as she could. The toe of her boot made contact.
    He grimaced.
    It was like all of the emotions she’d felt that fateful afternoon ten years ago were in control of her. “I’ll have you know, I’m behaving like a woman who was scorned by you once. And I’m not going to sit here and let you scorn me again.” She grabbed her purse and pushed her chair back.
    “Still running away from things that make you nervous,” he drawled in a tone that irritated the hell out of her. Full of supreme superiority. Of a maturity sadly missing from her current arsenal of defense.
    “I’m walking away because I think I’ve had all the ‘blunt truth’ I can handle from you for one day.” Actually, this last humiliation should last her the rest of the century.
    “Let’s recall that first offense where I—” he made air quotes— “scorned you. The situation called for it. You were a minor, Kinley, asking an adult to make a woman out of you.”
    Heat flamed through her body, and his words halted her exit. “Lucky for me you said no, and I found someone better to give my virginity to.” She told herself to stand up and walk away. But she couldn’t. She wanted to see his response. Wanted to know if she hit a nerve. Wanted to know if he cared even a little that he hadn’t been the one .
    God knew she’d cared at the time. And maybe, just maybe, still did.
    He scowled. A vein bulged by his right eye. “If the quality of your sex scenes are anything to go by, he didn’t teach you much.”
    She slammed her palms on the table, causing their glasses to shake. “Damn you, Ian Thompson. How dare you reject me twice!”
    She pushed into a standing position, prepared to make an exit worthy of a Regency heroine.
    “Sit down.” He spoke in an authoritative tone. A tone a teacher uses with an unruly student.
    “Go to hell.”
    His lips tightened. “Are you really going to walk away from this conversation?”
    She turned her foot toward the exit. She wasn’t done. But she didn’t trust herself to stay. She’d long since moved past the mistakes of her youth, but that didn’t mean that ripping the scab off this particular wound wouldn’t hurt. A lot. “I’m done talking, Ian.”
    “I’m not.” There was a plea in his tone.
    They stared at each other for long seconds. Seconds that felt like eons.
    She huffed and took a seat. “What else do you want to say?” She had no idea why she allowed him to boss her around.
    “I’m not rejecting you. I’m rejecting your manuscript.”
    “Well…praise the Lord. I feel so much better now.” Why did she let him sucker her into thinking he was going to say something nice?
    “Great. Glad to hear it. And while you’re taking my advice so well, I suggest you hit all of the workshops this week and seriously consider switching over to writing Amish romances or something that allows you to close the door on sex scenes.”
    She jerked back, his comment catching her on the chin. The back of her eyes burned. “Why do you have to be so hateful?” She’d worked really hard on the manuscript he’d read.
    “Hateful?” He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up.
    But not nearly as messed up as his words left her self-confidence. “You heard me.”
    He exhaled harshly. “Believe it or not, I see a great writer in your manuscript. You just can’t write sex. It comes across as a nun trying to write spanking romance.”
    “And that’s your idea of not being mean?” She glanced