Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
"Sword?"
Fuck.
"Are we going or what?" Lily tapped her foot rather impatiently, and Sword's jaw clenched at the way it made the silky strips of her skirt move rather alarmingly.
One fucking wrong move...
"Helloooo?"
She only needed to make one fucking wrong move...
A frown marred Lily's forehead at Sword's continued silence. "Sword? Are you alright?" She started towards him, and Sword stunned both of them when he actually jerked a step back.
Lily blinked in confusion. "What the hell's wrong with you?"
"I should be the one asking you that," Sword heard himself snap. "Why the hell are you dressed like a slut?" He saw Lily's expression turn stormy and knew right away that he had gone too far.
Fuck.
He started to apologize, but it was already too late, and the most excruciating form of pain had him halting in his tracks.
FUUUUUUCK!
THAT JERK.
Jerk! Jerk! Jerk!
But even though Lily was fuming mad, there was also a part of her that remained foolishly and helplessly attracted, unable to take her eyes off the tall, lithe figure that went up the stage at the ship captain's request.
All eyes were on Sword as he began talking, and rightly so. Lily still remembered the first year she started working for him, which had also been the same year Sword started his company. At that time, pretty much everyone had been against his decision to juggle his time between two careers. Those in the world of sports believed Sword should stick to playing in his lane while those in Wall Street had actually been making bets on the number of days it would take before
his company filed for bankruptcy.
But in the end, Sword had proved them all wrong. By the time he retired at age thirty-two, he had won several Super Bowls for his team and Ball World Inc. had broken multiple records during its IPO launch.
He could've rested on his laurels after that, but instead Sword had remained passionately driven. The man seemed to thrive in challenges, and it was that, more than anything else...
Everyone in the crowd suddenly rose to their feet and started clapping, and a wild surge of jealousy flared inside of Lily when she saw the way most women in the crowd were eyeing Sword like a piece of meat they urgently wanted between their legs.
And they probably would, too, Lily thought moodily.
For so many years now, it seemed as if every girl who wanted a piece of him...did get a piece of him.
Everyone except her.
SWORD WATCHED STONILY as Lily took to the dance floor like a swan took to water. She had been dancing nonstop for an hour now, and not once did the damn kid ever look his way. Not fucking once...and the fact that he actually gave a damn about it was what pissed him off the most.
He had known Lily since she was sixteen. Had seen her grow up under his very nose and had witnessed her transform from rebellious high schooler to award-winning artist. And while they had butted heads more often than they had seen eye to eye, neither of them ever forgot that they were on the same team, and that both of them wanted what was best for the company.
It was the best kind of partnership, or so Sword had always thought...until now.
In front of him, Lily was still painting the town red, laughing gaily as yet another new guy had her swirling and dipping all around the dance floor. It was a fucking miracle she had yet to lose her panties—-
Fuck!
He was doing it again, dammit.
Why the hell was he suddenly feeling pissy about things that he normally didn't give a fuck about? There had been a time when Sword himself had told Lily to loosen up and find herself a boyfriend. And now that she was actually doing as advised...why the hell did he suddenly want to start beating up every man who dared so much as glance at her tits?
LILY'S FEET WERE KILLING her. It was the only reason she had to say no to the next guy who asked her to dance, and as she accepted a drink from one of the passing servers, Lily turned around...and nearly dropped her wine glass.
Sword was standing right in front of her, looking a little too dangerously handsome for her own good with his slicked-back hair, smoldering eyes, and elegant tux.
The man only needed a British accent, Lily thought grumpily, and he could've been the next James Bond.
Not that she cared, of course.
She was over him. Or would soon be. And while finding herself a prince among frogs was taking a bit more time than she had anticipated, well, it didn't matter. She would just keep dancing, dammit. Even if she had to dance until her own feet fell off—-
"I'm sorry."
Lily gaped. Sword never apologized that easily. They were peas from the same pod on that score, and so for him to actually say those ghastly words without having his arm twisted—-