Total pages in book: 224
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
That thought is cut off by a commotion in the hallway. “Sir!” I hear my assistant Sallie shout. “Sir!”
I stand up, certain this is where I get escorted out. I thought I was ready. I thought I could handle this, but my hands are shaking and my heart is in my throat and—Reid walks into my office, and I can barely breathe. He’s here, not some random person he sent to get rid of me. That’s how pissed off he is about those cuffs. He stops just inside the door and scans the space, taking in my conference table and sitting area before refocusing those ice blue eyes on me, and just that easily he consumes the room, power radiating off him. Tall, broad, and devastatingly, arrogantly male in a perfectly fitted gray pinstripe suit, his long legs eat up the space between the doorway and my desk, those damn eyes of his pinning me in a stare.
“Hello, Samantha,” he says.
I lift my chin, not about to cower. “I’m surprised you came,” I say, “but then that’s the point, right? To take me off guard?”
“Actually, you came,” he points out. “I didn’t have that pleasure.”
Heat rushes over me and before I can form a reply, Sallie appears at the endcap of my desk between us. “I’m sorry, Carrie. He just charged in and—”
Reid looks at her. “You need to leave myself and Ms. West alone now.”
She gives me a desperate look. I nod. “It’s okay, Sallie. Mr. Maxwell and I have company business.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but she slowly backs up and heads for the door. “Shut it behind you,” Reid orders, his eyes focused on me, sharp, hard, and somehow intimate, like he’s thinking about where his mouth has been and wants me to do the same.
I am.
Lord help me, I am.
The door shuts, and he flicks a look at the box on my desk. “Going somewhere?”
“Isn’t that why you’re here? To personally fire me, maybe even walk me out of the door?”
He leans forward, his hands on my desk, his eyes, those ice blue eyes, fierce, while his woodsy male scent reminds me of how much I smelled like him when I left that hotel room. “I’m not the kind of man that sends someone else to do a job I can do better. And I can do this one better.”
Anger flares in my belly. “Bring it on,” I say, leaning on the desk toward him, my intent to square off with him, but it’s a mistake I can’t back away from. He’s close, so damn close. “Whatever you have planned,” I add fiercely, “no matter how bad it is, will be worth leaving you in that room in those cuffs.”
“And every second I was in that hotel room, I tasted you on my lips, Samantha. You left a lasting impression.”
We stare at each other and Lord help me yet again, my nipples are tight and I’m wet. Ridiculously wet by way of a man that has destroyed my life. “Do what you’re going to do,” I breathe out.
His lips twitch again. “Oh, I will and I am.” He pushes off the desk and only then do I even realize he’s brought a briefcase that he apparently sat in the chair next to him. I quickly straighten while he grabs a folder and tosses it on the desk. “You have six months to buy back the business. The conditions are outlined in that contract. I’ll summarize. You will produce a certain level of revenue in that timeframe which allows my family and the panel of investors I used for this transaction to leave feeling adequately compensated. They’ve all agreed, for one reason and one reason only. I’ve agreed to take control. I’ll be here on-site.”
“Why would you even take your time to do this?”
“I have my reasons that I don’t intend to share. Study the document. You have one hour to decide. If you don’t sign the deal, it’s over and you’re done here.”
I flip open the folder and start reading. He’s made it to the door when I read the ridiculously large figure I have to earn in six months. “This is just a game to you,” I say. “A way to taunt me or fuck over one of the investors, or whatever it is. I’m not playing.”
He turns to face me. “You based that assessment on what?”
“The profit you want me to produce. I can’t do this. It can’t be done.”
He walks back to me and leans on the desk again. “The woman that not only seduced me into following her to her room, who managed to get me to give her an orgasm, and then cuffed me and left me to think about her, wouldn’t say can’t. You even paid for that orgasm with a company check.” He straightens again. “Be Samantha or fail. She doesn’t think the number is too much. Your father made you feel that number was impossible. It’s not. If it were, I wouldn’t have put my name on this deal with my investors. You have one hour to get from ‘can’t’ to ‘can’. I’ll be in your father’s office, which is now mine.” He turns and walks to the door again, and this time he doesn’t stop. He leaves.