Free Fire and Ash (Immortal Touch) by Allie Gail Page A

her chest trembled.
    For the first time he noticed the pink hue. “Damn, you are, aren’t you.” He felt one of her arms lightly with his fingertips. “Hang on a minute, I’ll go get you something for that.”
    He left, returning a few minutes later with a plastic bottle of bright green aloe gel.
    “Where’d you get that?” she interrogated, knowing he wasn’t gone long enough to make it to the sixteenth floor and back.
    “Gift shop.”
    “I didn’t know they were open all night.”
    “They’re not.”
    Oh. She kept forgetting he had the run of the building.
    “Sit,” he instructed, pointing to the couch.
    “Just give it to me. I can put it on myself.” What did he think she was, a three-year-old?
    “Sami, sit down or so help me I’ll smack your sunburn.”
    “No , you won’t.”
    To her amazement, he reached over and gave her arm a slap. “ Ow! ” she yelped. “That hurt, you asshole!”
    “It’s gonna hurt worse if you don’t sit your butt down.”
    Calling him every unflattering name she could think of underneath her breath, she perched on the edge of the couch. “You try that again and you can kiss your chances of fatherhood goodbye.”
    “Turn sideways a bit.” He opened the bottle and began to lightly rub the gel into the seared flesh of her arms. She was surprised at how gentle he was. “Fatherhood was never in my future anyway,” he informed her. “Kids aren’t my thing.”
    “That doesn’t surprise me,” she snapped. “You’d have to focus on someone besides yourself then, wouldn’t you?”
    “You seem to have formed a pretty lousy opinion of me in a short time. Did it ever occur to you that I’m not as bad as all that?”
    “No. It didn’t.” She sighed contentedly as the cool, soothing gel began to take the heat from her arms. Oh yes, that was much better.
    “Having a civil conversation with you is like trying to nail Jell-O to a wall,” he remarked dryly. “Is your back burned, too?”
    “Yes, but it’s not as bad.”
    “Why don’t you take off your pajama top.”
    “Why don’t you take a bungee jump without a cord!”
    “Do you think you have anything I haven’t seen before?” He sounded amused.
    “Yes, I do. And believe me, you won’t be seeing it now or ever!”
    “Mm-hm.” His hands reached underneath her cotton pajama top to rub some of the aloe into her back. “We’ll see about that.”
    Presumptuous, overconfident degenerate! He really believed he could have anything he pointed his finger at. Up until now, he probably had always gotten his way. Well, he wasn’t going to have his way with her. She wasn’t naïve enough to fall for his bright and shiny coating. His money and good looks didn’t impress her one damn bit. “Yeah. We’ll see.”
    “Care to make a little wager?”
    “What?”
    “A bet. I’m betting you I’ll have you in my bed within a month.”
    Her mouth dropped open, and for a moment she was too stunned to reply. “You are un-freaking-believable,” she finally sputtered.
    “So make the bet. What do you have to lose?” His hands continued to massage her back tenderly. It felt nice, but she would just as soon have died before admit it.
    “I’m not…that’s just perverted. You’re a sick man, you know that?”
    “One month. Thirty days, and I’m guessing it won’t take that long. A couple of weeks and you’ll be on your knees begging for the chance to be my whore.”
    Leaping up, Sami turned to face him. “All right, that’s enough. It’s time for you to go. I’m not listening to any more of this.”
    He stood slowly, that Cheshire grin spreading across his arrogant face. “I’ll put up my car.”
    Wait. What? “The Maserati?” she asked in disbelief. “You can’t be serious!” She’d seen that gorgeous black convertible in the parking garage. It was cherry.
    “I’m dead serious. Do you have a towel I can wipe my hands on?”
    Snatching her attention from the bizarre topic at hand, she grabbed a