Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 153(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 153(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
I shook off the thought and tried to focus on the fact that I was in Chicago for business, not pleasure. “You weren’t kidding when you said you had plenty of room for me at your place.”
He beamed a satisfied smile. “It’s definitely better than the hotel you planned to stay at.”
There was no denying that he was right, but I still rolled my eyes as he climbed out of the car because it wasn’t as though I had been booked at a sketchy motel. But I wouldn’t have had access to the gourmet kitchen he showed me during the tour of his home. And the pool and hot tub out back—along with a pool house—were fantastic.
“I guess it’s fair to say I’ll be comfortable here,” I conceded with a smile when he led me upstairs to a gorgeous guest room that was at least twice the size of the room I would’ve had at the hotel.
I peeked into the en suite bath and grinned when I spotted the deep, jetted bathtub. Taking a soak in there took on a different meaning with James under the same roof, but that wouldn’t stop me from enjoying it at some point. The temptation was just too strong.
“I’m glad you find the room adequate.” Humor glimmered in his eyes as James jerked his chin toward the wall to his right. “And if you need anything tonight, I’ll be right next door.”
I gulped down the sudden lump in my throat and croaked, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Please do.” Moving closer, he settled his hand on my lower back to guide me out of the room and down the stairs. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. The least I can do is feed you dinner after I hijacked your plans.”
“You won’t get an argument from me.” I patted my stomach. “I didn’t bother to stop and get anything to eat on my drive down because I was planning to splurge on room service since Heath Construction was picking up the tab.”
The heated look he sent my way had me considering a cold shower instead of the bubble bath I’d been looking forward to for the past few hours. “If you want breakfast in bed tomorrow morning, that can be arranged.”
“I’ll…uh…keep that in mind, too.”
“Good.” His deep chuckle sent a shiver down my spine as he led me into the kitchen.
After he settled me on one of the four padded stools lining the marble counter, James headed over to the Perlick fridge—the most expensive model from a Wisconsin manufacturer I only recognized because I’d ordered one for a mansion Landon was building in Downer Woods. The company was also known for its beer and brewing equipment, so it wasn’t a surprise that it had a hinged glass door on the side with a display shelf with space for almost one hundred bottles of wine. And since James was a freaking billionaire, he had his fully stocked with pricy-looking labels that probably belonged in a collector’s cellar.
If I’d ever gotten a taste for wine, I’d have asked him to crack open a bottle for me to take the edge off. But since I was a total lightweight, that definitely wasn’t the right call. With only half a glass in me, I would probably decide to climb James like a monkey.
“I’d be willing to empty my bank account to find out what put that pretty blush on your cheeks.”
My head jerked up at his raspy statement, and my face grew even hotter when I saw the hungry look in his eyes. Then the meaning of his words hit me, and a shocked laugh sputtered out of me. “Not sure you want to toss around offers like that. Someone might actually take you up on it sometime.”
“I have a feeling it would be money well spent.” He flashed me a cocky grin. “There’s plenty more where that came from, and I can always recoup my losses with my next deal.”
Propping my chin in my hand, I quirked my brows. “How about you apply some of your confidence into making that dinner you promised me?”
“Get ready for me to blow your socks off.” He pulled a pan out of the freezer and set it on the counter next to the Wolf range. Then he turned the temperature of the convection over to three-hundred and fifty degrees before peeling back the foil to show off the delicious-looking lasagna inside. “My personal chef keeps me stocked up on dishes I can easily throw in the oven no matter what time I get back from the office. I eat so many meals in restaurants, and he knows how much I like a good home-cooked dinner. Even if he’s the one doing the actual cooking.”
Of course he had a freaking personal chef. He was a billionaire, after all. “If you have garlic bread in there too, I’ll be really impressed.”