Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 36487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Who knew veins could be so sexy? Not this girl, but Daniel has me full on #teamforearms.
“You’ll think it’s silly.”
He hits me with a possessive stare. Then shakes his head. “Nothing you could say would sound silly to me.”
We’ll just see about that.
“Fine.” I pluck up my courage yet again. “I want to work with bees.”
There it is. Head tipped to the side, brow furrowed. The typical reaction that I get whenever I mention this.
“Bees.” He repeats the word as though it’s a foreign language, nodding in some conciliatory agreement.
“Yes. Apis apis, to be precise. The common honeybee.”
“You want to be a beekeeper?”
The way he says it, it isn’t condescending. It’s more curious and that encourages me.
“Sort of. I want to be a conservationist. I want to study bees because they tell us so much about the world we live in.”
He takes this in his stride, clearly interested. It’s such an unexpected reaction that I hardly mind when he topples my bishop.
“So what would that entail?”
“Well,” I say, finishing off my mimosa. “First, it would involve changing my major and horrifying my parents.”
He makes this amused sort of throaty sound.
“I wish I had parents to horrify. But why would they be upset?”
“Because apparently, bee conservationist is not a lucrative or impressive enough profession for them.”
“Money isn’t everything.”
“Says the man that just bought something he might not even take for more money than I can even imagine.”
He lifts his hand, shrugs a little, like I’ve got him there.
“But I mean it. So, tell me. You’d need somewhere to keep these bees, I’d imagine.”
I get up and pad over to the bar cart. I bring back the bottle of champagne and the pitcher of orange juice, filling up his glass and then mine. I’m already a little tipsy and that’s plenty enough for me. If he does decide to take what he paid for, I don’t want the room to be spinning.
“Yes, but not just anywhere. It has to be between here and Florida, but between the 30th and the 35th parallel. Which is another thing my dad thinks is ridiculous.”
But Daniel doesn’t look like he thinks it’s ridiculous at all. He smiles a little, smirks almost, but in a satisfied, curious way. Then reaches for his phone. After a few taps and swipes he turns the screen the face me.
“Like right about there?”
The place where the little pin is dropped is the beekeeping promised land. North of New Orleans, outside the hurricane belt, well below the tornado belt. The Google street-view thumbnail shows not a house but a majestic front gate, iron and stone, surrounded by lavender bursting with blooms. Looking at the photo, I can almost hear the reassuring buzz of a happy hive.
“Exactly there. What is that?”
He clears his throat and topples my pawn.
“My house. My estate, I guess.”
I blink at him, rolling the pawn back and forth on the board under my fingertip. “Your estate? Is right there?”
He nods, never breaking my stare.
“And I’ve actually noticed quite a few bees. I thought it was going to be a problem, but they don’t bother anybody.”
“They’re not a problem. They’re the opposite of a problem. They’re wonderful.”
He gives me a slow, seductive, up-and-down stare, licking his bottom lip. “Interesting.”
The way he’s looking at me makes me feel suddenly so shy that I can’t help but look away. Nobody has ever looked at me the way he is looking at me—not as a girl, but as a woman.
A woman…almost.
I focus on the board. He’s one move away from winning. My heart sinks. Because now more than ever, I really do want him. Not just because he’s sexy and spent a fortune on me. But because I love his company. And I would love for him to be my first.
But the chess board doesn’t lie.
“Well,” I blow out a breath, drawing a shoulder to my ear, “I guess that’s that. Time for you to finish this.”
Daniel takes a deep inhale. He looks ambivalent, broody, distracted.
I dislike that. I want him to be as certain about wanting me as I am about wanting him.
“We made a fucking deal.” He half-grunts on a sniff.
The words sound like a warning.
Or maybe a dare.
CHAPTER 6
Lexie
I slowly slide to my knees on the rug.
Sweep my hair aside, play up what I feel are my best assets. My skin. My collarbone. My cleavage. But his deep, sexy eyes stay locked on mine. Definitely a warning.
I slide my hips down, sitting back on my heels, easing myself between his strong, muscular legs. His eyes might be warning me, but the thick rod of his cock straining against his pants tells me the truth of what he’s really feeling. And wanting.
I reach forward.
Smile.
Bite lip.
Keep eye contact.
The game on the board might be over, but there’s no doubt we are still playing chess.