Free Dare She Kiss & Tell? by Aimee Carson Page B

just inches from his fingertips. After tonight’s kiss, “debate” was quite the understatement. He kept his eyes on Carly. “Ms. Wolfe is a worthy opponent.”
    “As is Mr. Philips,” Carly said. With a hike of a brow, she shot the host one of her charming smiles before turning her loaded gaze back to Hunter. “I’m learning a lot about the art of war.”
    The message was hardly subtle, and the memory of their kiss twined its way around his libido and breathed it backto life. If it had ever died in the first place. When Carly had gone on the offensive during their encounter it had taken all he had to keep the moment in check. He should have known she’d fight back, but he shouldn’t have enjoyed it so much.
    “What have you learned?” Hunter said dryly. “That war is won in the attack tactics?”
    “More like it’s lost in a failure of the defensive,” she said.
    Was she referring to herself? Or him? Ironically, it applied to them both.
    “If your offensive is strong enough,” he said, “the defensive becomes irrelevant.”
    Her tone was a touch too silky for comfort. “You should know.”
    He eyed Carly levelly, struggling to maintain his composed demeanor, but his gaze was probably hotter than it should be. He sincerely hoped Carly was the only one to notice. “You’re fairly skilled in aggressive tactics yourself.”
    Carly shifted in Hunter’s direction, eyes twinkling with mischief as she crossed her long legs in his direction. Legs that screamed for verification that they were as smooth as they looked. So why hadn’t he seized the opportunity when he’d had the chance? His gaze lingered a moment on her limbs before returning to hers, and the sparkle in Carly’s eyes turned to delighted amusement mixed with a smoky awareness that was difficult to ignore. Hunter tried anyway.
    “Aggressive tactics?” she echoed with an overly innocent smile. “Are you referring to my blog on Wednesday?”
    She knew full well he wasn’t.
    “What else?” he said.
    The sassy lady simply held his gaze and said nothing. But, much to Hunter’s delight, her lips twitched—as if she was itching to laugh.
    “Speaking of Carly’s blog,” Brian O’Connor said, interruptingHunter’s train of thought. “You did take a pretty good beating, Hunter.”
    Impatience swelled. He’d forgotten about the host. Hunter suppressed a frown, annoyed at his lack of concentration in the presence of this beautiful woman. And at the need to defend himself
again
. Not only that—this time he’d positioned himself within touching range of the sexy little troublemaker …
    His insides coiled tight, the memory of kissing Carly barreling over his usual ability to remain calm. It had been hotter than he’d expected. More dangerous than he’d anticipated even after factoring in her looks and sultry ways.
    The blond talk-show host grinned at Hunter. “Carly’s Clan had some not so nice nicknames for you.”
    Despite everything, Hunter had to bite back a smile at the term. “‘Carly’s Clan’ certainly did. And a good number of them can’t be shared with your audience. Most of the commenters’ choices of names aren’t repeatable on TV.” He turned his focus back to Carly. “But among the most creative ones I was called were reprobate—”
    “Fitting,” Carly interjected swiftly.
    With a small smile, Hunter kept talking. “Degenerate—”
    “Ditto,” Carly went on.
    “And a rake,” Hunter finished.
    “Rake?” Brian O’Connor said with a chuckle, beating Carly to the comment punch. “Who uses that word in this day and age?”
    Carly’s smile was genuine as the two stared at Hunter, making him feel as if he was on trial. “I don’t know, Brian,” she said. “But it doesn’t quite suit the man, does it? Rake sounds far too …” She sent Hunter an
I’m-so-cute
smile and tipped her head. “Too romantic,” she finished, and Hunterappreciated the playful look she flashed him as she went on. “I suspect Mr.