AllFreeNovel
Share Us
They stared at each other in silence for a long moment.
He was dying to kiss her again. But he did possess some self-control. Though it had been tested.
“Go back to America, Ann,” he told her. “Either give me my statue, or go back to America. This ruse you’ve concocted about helping me is not going to work. I don’t know what you’re up to, but I can guarantee you, I am going to find out the truth.”
“Good.” Her gaze stayed steady on his. “You do that, Raif. You find out the truth. And when you do, I’ll expect an apology.” She eyed him up and down. “For the false accusation. For the unwanted kiss, and for anything else you manage to do between now and then.”
Before she could move, he grasped her chin. “If you don’t want a kiss, Ms. Richardson, you might want to keep your tongue to yourself.”
She held her ground without pulling back. “You took me by surprise.”
Surprise was putting it mildly from Raif’s perspective. “And if you don’t want me as an enemy,” he continued his warning, mentally blocking the kiss, “you might want to stop defying me.”
“Your threats don’t frighten me.”
“Really?” he drawled. “You’d be the first.”
Keep reading for an excerpt of Up Close and Personal by Maureen Child!
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Desire story.
You can’t help it—you’re attracted to power! Harlequin Desire stories feature heroes who have it all: wealth, status, incredible good looks…everything but the right woman. Add some secrets, maybe a scandal, and start turning pages!
Visit Harlequin.com to find your next great read.
We like you—why not like us on Facebook: Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Follow us on Twitter: Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books: HarlequinBlog.com
Subscribe to our newsletter for special offers, new releases, and more!
Harlequin.com/newsletters
One
“Laura, I know you’re in there!”
Ronan Connolly pounded on the brightly painted blue front door a few more times, then paused to listen. Not a sound from inside the house, though he knew too well that Laura was in there. Hell, he could practically feel her, standing just on the other side of the damned door.
Bloody hardheaded woman. How had he ever thought that quality attractive? Now that attractive hardheadedness had come back to bite him in the ass.
Seconds ticked past and there was no sound from within, which only irritated him further. He glanced at the sunshine-yellow Volkswagen parked alongside the house—her car—then glared again at the still-closed front door.
“You won’t convince me you’re not at home. Your bloody car is parked in the street, Laura.”
Her voice came then, muffled but clear. “It’s a driveway in America, Ronan. You’re not in Ireland, remember?”
“More’s the pity.” He scrubbed one hand across his face and rolled his eyes in frustration. If they were in Ireland right now, he’d have half the village of Dunley on his side and he’d bloody well get her to open the damned door.
“I heard that,” she said. “And feel free to hop onto one of your private planes and go back to Connolly-land anytime you feel like it!”
If only he could, Ronan thought. But he’d come to California to open an American branch of his business and until Cosain was running as it should, he was going nowhere at all.
At the moment though, he was tired, on edge and in no mood to be dealing with more females. Especially one with a head as hard as Laura’s.
He had spent the past six weeks traveling across Europe acting as bodyguard to a sixteen-year-old pop star whose singing was only slightly less annoying than her attitude. Between the girl and her grasping mother, Ronan had been more than ready for the job to end so he could get back to his life. Now that he was back, he’d expected peace. Orderliness. Instead…
