Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“Abby.” He pushes to stand, smoothing a hand over the front of his well-tailored jacket. “I made a reservation for Lise for Sunday brunch. I’ll report back on Monday.”
“You’re going to love it,” I say with confidence, even though I’ve never tasted the bistro’s brunch offerings. “Let me know what your favorite dish is.”
He falls in step next to me as I cross the lobby. “Will do. Are you calling it a night?”
I nod. “I’m going to surprise my sister with pizza.”
“Excellent choice.” He grins. “I’ve yet to find a pepperoni pie in this city I hate.”
I don’t bother to tell him that Carrie’s favorite has always been and will always be prosciutto and arugula on a thin crust.
The doorman tips his head forward as he holds the heavy glass door open for me to exit.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
“I can hail a taxi,” Desmond offers. “Unless that car is waiting for you.”
I glance in the direction he’s pointing toward a black Mercedes parked near the curb. I’ve seen hundreds of these cars in New York City since I moved here, but a sinking feeling settles in my gut because this screams Declan.
It takes less than a second for my fear to be confirmed when the back passenger window slowly lowers.
“Mr. Wells,” Desmond says. “I thought you left fifteen minutes ago.”
I turn to face the guard. “I’ll leave you to chat with Mr. Wells. Goodnight.”
“Night!” Desmond calls after me as I start walking down the sidewalk.
I don’t make it ten feet before I hear a car door slam behind me.
“Abigail!” Declan’s voice snaps through the air with an authoritative bite. “We need to talk.”
Without glancing back, I shake my head. “I have somewhere to be.”
A large hand circles my bicep before I can take another step. The silk of my white blouse may separate his touch from my skin, but it still sends a pulse of electricity straight through me.
“Turn around, Abby.”
I thought I’d have tonight to steel myself for my next conversation with him. I have a million questions about when he decided to buy Llura Condoms and why he thinks I’m the perfect woman for the job.
I spin to face him. “Yes?”
His gaze locks on mine. “Join me for dinner.”
“I have plans,” I shoot back with a sugary sweet smile.
“Break them.”
“No.” I shake my head.
“Yes,” he says with a nod.
“Why?”
The corners of his mouth edge toward a smile, but he chases it away with a bite to his bottom lip. “We need to talk strategy.”
Is he seriously pulling this shit on me right now?
“I haven’t received anything to review yet,” I try that tactic, knowing it will fail. “Mr. Thorsen said I need to sign a contract.”
“Mr. Thorsen isn’t here.” He points at the sidewalk. “I’m here, and we’re going to have dinner and discuss what I expect from you.”
I try to tug my arm free again, but his hand isn’t going anywhere. I exhale loudly. “You expect me to be your attorney.”
“Yes, and my ally,” he adds. “We’re going to navigate this deal together.”
I glance behind him to where Rygar is standing next to the car. “Why me, Declan? You’re an attorney. You can handle this entire deal yourself. We both know that.”
He tugs me half a step closer to him. I acquiesce because my body is a traitor, and the chance to be near him is too good to pass up.
“You deserve an opportunity to prove yourself,” he says in a low tone. “I want a woman working this deal, and I think you’re the perfect person to handle it.”
“You have female attorneys on staff at Wells,” I point out. “I’ve met two since I started working for Rook.”
“Then you know that both are very skilled and talented lawyers, but I don’t feel that either will bring the perspective to this that I know you will.”
I hold back a laugh. “What exactly does that mean?”
“You enjoy the product.” His gaze drops to the front of my blouse and beyond. “You loved how my dick felt wrapped in one of those condoms.”
I swallow hard, desperate to regain what little composure I’m clinging to. “Don’t go there.”
“We already went there.” He traces my lips with his gaze. “We’re going back there soon.”
“I can’t sleep with you and work with you.”
“You sure as hell can.” He gazes into my eyes. “Help me with this. We’ll keep it professional during the day and at night…”
“At night?” I whisper.
“I’ll fuck you as often as you want, and I’d say as much as I need, but I’ll always need more of you.”
My skin heats at his words. “Declan.”
“Abby,” he bites my name out through clenched teeth. “I requested your assistance because I trust you to do a good job. I need you to trust that I can balance our professional and personal relationships.”