Free Trade by Tabitha A Lane Page A

to
sitting. “You want me.” The evidence was plain to see. “I want you. We’re
alone.”
    “I know.” He sat back and his hand
fell away. “The easy thing to do would be to fuck day and night—give in to our
desires.” He reached over and stroked the side of her face. “I want to.”
    “But?” She waited.
    “Shit, Max.” He frowned and spiked
a hand through his hair. “This isn’t about that. This is a chance for me to
prove I’m different, that I’m more.”
    “More than a man who has to sleep
with the only woman available?” Anger stirred in her gut. He was letting her
down gently, as though she was a groupie, or something. “Get over yourself,
Sholto.” She reached for her tank, unwilling to just lie there before him with
her body and her heart open.
    “Jasper will expect you to fuck
me.”
    It was true, but she sure didn’t
want to hear him say it. “Because?”
    “Because you’re a woman, and I’m a
man.”
    “Not just a man. Because you’re
Sholto Kincaid. A man who would never reject a willing woman.” She got to her
feet, and pulled on her panties. “Of course, he doesn’t know that’s not true,
does he?”
    “Max.” He stood and grabbed her
arm. “I’m not saying this right—I’m fucking up, here…”
    She put on her boots, shoved the
water bottles into her bag, and slung it over her shoulder. “At least this time
you don’t have a fucking friend filming it.”

Chapter
Seven
     
    He should have known she’d throw that back in his face. She’d
said she was over it—Christ, she’d had fifteen goddamned years to get over it.
Sholto dressed quickly, picked up the jackfruit, and strode after her.
    “We’re talking about this.”
    “No, we’re not.” She flicked back
her braids. “We have to spend the next nine days together. I have no interest
in spending them fighting with you.” She’d set the bag in an area of clear sand
a little distance from the camp. “We should eat here, so as not to attract
insects to our sleeping area.” She set about gathering dried sticks and forming
a pile.
    “I had nothing to do with the
filming.”
    She looked up—and the disbelief on
her face cut him to his core. “I thought you would apologize. I didn’t expect
you to deny it.” Her mouth twisted. “You were an asshole back then—looks like
you’re still an asshole.”
    He breathed in deep, and tried to
keep hold of his temper. Beneath the disbelief lay hurt. She was attempting to
hide it, but he saw it. “I’m telling the truth.” The memory of her back then filled
his mind. Standing before him—in her ill-fitting homemade clothes, with the shy
smile on her face, asking him to go to the school dance with her.
    He’d laughed.
    More from shock than anything. He’d
thought they were friends. That she was the one person in the whole damn school
who actually got him. The boys he hung with looked at him with admiration as he
worked his way through the female population of his class—none of them would
have been interested to get to know him, they all wanted to be him.
    “I was a shit back then.” Able to
get any girl just by smiling at them, he’d treated many girls badly. Every time
one got too close, he shut them out in the easiest way he knew—by sleeping with
someone else. “I cheated on girls. I broke a lot of hearts. I never meant to
break yours.”
    “You didn’t break mine.” She stood
up, brushed her hands down her pants, and then put them on her hips. “You
totally misread my intentions.”
    “You wanted me to go to the dance
with you. As your date. You wanted to sleep with me.”
    “I fucking didn’t. I showed you
some pity, and you threw it back in my face.”
    Pity? What the fuck is she
talking about?
    “You were supposed to go to the
dance with Susan. Remember?”
    Susan. He vaguely remembered her.
    “She found out you’d been
two-timing her with her friend.” Max crossed her arms. “I heard her talking in
the ladies room—I was in a