Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
I’m lucky yet again because Debbie is not at her desk. I don’t know where that woman goes all the time, but it works for me. In a rush of carefully placed steps, I end up at Tyler’s door. Again, no time to back out. I knock on the door. It opens almost instantly, and I jolt to find Gavin standing there.
He gives me a once-over and smirks.
I dislike this man.
“Hi,” I say. “I really need Tyler.”
“And he needs you,” he states, and I suddenly feel dirty again, like a girl who’s been auctioned off to the highest bidder, who happens to be my boss.
He backs up to allow my entry and I walk in to find Tyler missing from behind his desk and there are boxes everywhere. “Over here,” he says.
I glance right and he’s on his couch with boxes surrounding him. “What is this?”
“The Allen case,” he says. “My father liked to test me and to play head games. I’m making sure there’s even an issue to be worried about.”
I close the space between us and sit down in the chair to his left. He smells good again, and I notice his hands. Again. And when my gaze lands on his handsome face, I do exactly what he said he wanted. I search his intense blue eyes for the truth. “You really think that’s possible?” I ask.
Warmth flows from him to me, but he promises nothing. “I’m motivated, Bella. The good news—the attorney handling the will has an attachment to the Allen family. I threatened to go after them. I believe I can sue, and there will be no repercussions.”
“The bad news?”
“I don’t know why I read I had fifteen months on this wedding bullshit. I have twelve. And there is always the chance that if I sue, the story lands in TMZ and it’s another scandal the firm can’t handle.”
“He needs to get married!” Gavin calls out.
My lips press together. “I think he’s right,” I say and the words are choked because my throat is just so ridiculously tight.
“You know how I feel about that, Bella. And you.”
No, I think. I really don’t. Not unless he means he wants it to be me he marries. “What’s with all the boxes if the Allen thing is handled?”
“My father liked to test me. I can’t help but think there is an answer in these boxes to get out of this. Hell.” He scrubs his jaw. “Maybe there’s even another will. That’s the way he rolled.”
Anger at how his father treated him burns in my belly. How can any parent treat their child in such a way? I’m reminded of the torment he must feel over his father, which was the entire reason I showed up at his apartment the night of the memorial. We, as human beings, hunger for our parents’ approval and to want it and still hate him must be confusing. And to see his parents as his relationship role model? No wonder he prefers sex to intimacy.
My eyes meet his and the connection between us is palpable, and I just don’t believe that can be faked, nor does it feel all about sex. But don’t women always turn sex into emotions? Or is that some sexist bullshit I should throw out and stop using as an excuse? With that in mind, I allow myself to consider the idea that it really might be about those “feelings” he confessed. Maybe, just maybe, this is more than sex. Or—I stop myself before I go down another dark tunnel of negativity.
He motions to the paper in my hand. “What’s up?”
“I have the press release I need to approve and get to the studio.” I offer him the document.
He accepts it and not by accident, he catches my hand in his and caresses his fingers along my fingers. A tingling sensation slides up my arm and across my chest, my nipples pucker. This man and my nipples, Lord, help me. Not to mention the pinch between my thighs. I feel like it’s been years since his hands were on my body when it’s been days. He glances down at the paper, and I study him studying it. He is just handsome, plain, and simple. Perfect bone structure. Perfect lips. Perfect hair, thick and styled and finger ready. Perfect body, hard all over.
His gaze lifts to mine, and I’m caught in my inspection. “Do you approve?”
I’m acutely aware of Gavin behind us somewhere. I’m also aware that he’s not talking about the press release. He’s talking about my inspection of him. And the truth is, I approve wholeheartedly but what I say is, “Acceptable.”
He surprises me with a low rumble of laughter. “All right, then. You’re a tough audience.” He grabs a pen and makes a few notes before handing the paper back to me.