Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
I turn slightly, see that she’s picked up her phone and is flipping through something. She glances up, no smile and no warmth. “That will be all. Thank you.”
Fuck if it doesn’t rankle me, the dismissal.
I want to see challenge in her eyes, but I’m not getting it today. I give her a curt nod and walk out of her office.
CHAPTER 4
Brienne
Drake shuts the door behind him, and when I hear the latch connect with a soft snick, I sink down into my chair with an exhale so long, my lungs ache. Tossing my phone onto the desk, I lean my head back against my chair and close my eyes.
Christ, that was intense.
I have no clue what is happening, but something comes over me when I’m in Drake’s presence and I lose every bit of my innate self. Gone is the businesswoman, and in her place is a woman who’s so discombobulated, she almost pulls his shirt down—without permission—to look at his tattoos.
What the fuck, Brienne?
I don’t understand it. I can have my pick of men. Hell, I have about as good a setup as one can have with Clay, and he’s absolutely gorgeous.
So why am I lusting after a tattooed hockey player with a chip on his shoulder who’s been pretty much an ass since our first meeting?
A tiny voice—maybe the devil sitting on my shoulder—says, Because Drake McGinn would be a walk on the dark and disorderly side. He’d dirty you up, take away all your control, and you’d come out on the other side a different woman.
That voice isn’t wrong. I know a man like Drake would change me. He’s a forbidden fruit that once tasted, would lead me to sin over and over again.
I just know it.
“It’s wrong,” I say out loud, because I need to put it out there to the universe with my voice. My words are clear and confident. “It’s completely wrong to have a relationship with a player.”
That inner voice pipes up again. That’s part of what makes it exciting, though, right?
“Shut the fuck up,” I growl at myself.
“Excuse me?”
My head jerks up, and I see Jenna standing in my open doorway. I hadn’t even heard the door open I was so mired in what might be nothing more than a crush.
A crush where I feel like the unseen girl in high school who has romantic visions of the captain of the football team.
Yeah, that was me. I may have come from a wealthy, powerful family and attended private schools, but I was not popular in high school. I was too tall and gangly, flat chested, and had bad skin. Braces didn’t help the whole picture.
The hot guys never looked my way, but I looked at them with longing.
It’s how I feel with Drake, and I’m pissed at myself. I’m thirty-three years old and one of the richest women in the country. I’m invited to state dinners at the White House. I’m no longer gangly but graceful, I sport nice C-cup breasts, and I have a killer smile. How can a brash, tatted, long-haired hockey player—five years my junior, by the way—have such a pull on me?
“Brienne… are you okay?” Jenna asks, and I sit forward. I hadn’t realized I’d laid my head back and closed my eyes again while ruminating.
“God, yes,” I exclaim, offering her a smile. “Sorry… zoned out.”
“Those looked like some deep thoughts.”
Bad thoughts, I chastise myself. The most wicked.
“What can I do for you?” I ask expectantly.
“It’s time for lunch,” she says, frowning with worry. “With Tonya.”
“Shit,” I mutter, rising from my chair. I’d forgotten we’re meeting with one of the Titans’ marketing managers. They want to roll out some new merchandise, and while I normally wouldn’t involve myself in the early stages of a campaign, our current VP of marketing is out on maternity leave. “I totally forgot.”
“Which is why you asked me to come get you at one p.m.,” Jenna replies, the frown still in place. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes,” I say with a reassuring smile as I move around my desk. “Just a little frazzled today.”
She cocks a golden eyebrow at me. “Interesting that you’re frazzled after Drake McGinn walked out of your office.”
I shoot her an eye roll. “Please… that was just a short meeting about a press release.”
“Okay,” she drawls as she follows me out of my office, but I hear the grin within her tone.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see her head ducked and lips curled upward. “What?” I demand irritably.
Jenna shrugs as we walk down the hall. “Nothing. I mean, he is superhot. I could see a woman getting a little off-kilter around him.”
“He does nothing for me.” An absolute, bald-faced lie. “I like my men a little more clean-cut.”
“If you say so,” she says.
“I say so.”
Although I know damn well if Jenna came into my office after work, and we cracked a bottle of wine as we often do, I’d probably blab my attraction to Drake. Jenna may be an employee of the organization, but she’s become a friend too. It’s usually just a drink after work in my office, or a few times we’ve gone out to lunch when my schedule allows, but she’s the first woman I’ve been able to actually develop a real friendship with.