Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Lennox narrowed his eyes at me. “Why do I have the feeling that you’d be out the door a few minutes after us?”
“Because you know your niece so well,” Brie chimed in.
“I’ll do my best to enjoy myself tonight,” I promised.
“Just not too much fun at the open bar,” my uncle muttered. “I don’t like the idea of you drinking while we’re not there to look out for you. You’re barely twenty-one, so you don’t know your limits yet.”
I quirked a brow at him as we entered the private elevator. “Didn’t you strong-arm some of your players into attending tonight?”
“Yes,” he confirmed, “but I don’t pay them millions of dollars so they can keep an eye on my beautiful niece while she finally spreads her wings.”
Brie elbowed him in the side with a giggle. “More like you don’t want one of them to swoop in and claim her for themself. I swear, they’re almost as bad as you when it comes to their wives.”
“That’s not gonna happen,” Lennox grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You never know…Finley is all grown up now.”
After climbing into the limousine waiting to take us to the gala, I pulled out my cell phone and mumbled, “I need to check some stuff in the Asian markets.”
Neither of them blinked at my excuse to avoid the awkward turn of conversation. Heaving a small sigh of relief, I distracted myself during the drive, only tucking my phone back in my purse when we arrived at our destination. We stopped to have our photos taken at the step before heading inside, where we were immediately swamped by people who wanted a moment of Lennox’s time.
As a billionaire with various interests, my uncle was always in high demand at events like this, but the throng was worse than usual. Probably because his football team was gearing up for a wildcard playoff game this coming Saturday.
Ducking out of the crowd, I made a beeline for the bar and ordered a glass of champagne. I wasn’t much of a drinker, except for a glass of wine every once in a while, so it was the safest bet. The bartender quickly slid a glass in front of me, and I lifted it to my lips. Then I almost choked on my sip of the expensive bubbly when a deep voice murmured, “What are the odds I can talk you into downing that glass of champagne so you can dance with me?”
Almost as though my aunt’s earlier teasing had conjured the perfect guy to jumpstart my libido out of thin air, I tilted my head back to stare into the dark eyes of the man who’d joined me at the end of the bar. We’d never met, but I was familiar enough with the players on the professional football team that my uncle owned to know exactly who he was—Rhodes Channing, one of the best offensive linemen in the league. With his six feet four inches of pure muscle wrapped in a bespoke tuxedo, he was devastatingly handsome. But not too polished since his face was covered by a thick, dark beard that my fingers itched to stroke.
Certain that I must’ve heard him wrong because there was no way this sought-after bachelor was interested in me, I whispered, “Pardon?”
His plush lips curved into a grin—his teeth gleaming white against his tan skin—as he proved me wrong by repeating, “Will you dance with me?”
2
RHODES
She was even more stunning up close.
I’d spotted this incredible beauty the moment she walked in the door, and despite the fact that she’d arrived with my boss and his wife, I knew I had to ask her to dance. I wondered about their connection, but it didn’t really matter. An overwhelming need consumed me—to be close to her, to find out more about her, because I had a feeling she was my future.
At the moment, she was looking at me as if I had three heads, making me want to laugh. I was used to women fawning over me, but I got the impression that this girl wasn’t speechless because of my job or bank account. Her gorgeous, wide blue eyes flickered with desire, and I couldn’t help smiling at the knowledge that she appeared to be as affected by me as I was by her.
“You want to dance with me?”
My grin widened. “I’d ask in another language if I knew one and thought it would up my odds of you agreeing.”
Her lips tipped up, and she laughed—the husky sound going straight to my groin. Damn, I couldn’t wait to hear her moaning my name in that sexy voice.
“Um, sure.” She hesitantly turned to place her drink on one of the small, high-top tables near us, then put her hand in my outstretched one.
As we walked to the dance floor, I looked down at her—she had to be at least five eleven in those heels, but I still towered over her. I admired her ash blond hair, swept up into some kind of fancy thing on her head, exposing her neck and making me want to trail my tongue down her naked skin to the cleavage just barely visible in her strapless gown. She had a slender build, but her tits would definitely fill my hands, and the flare of her hips would be perfect to hold while I buried myself deep inside her.