Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
In the box called work, he was ruthless and cold, his tastes leaning towards everything that was futuristic and functional. In the box called work, he was the kind of man whose company my brothers enjoyed and whose opinion they respected, but this one, too, had limits. I wasn’t sure which box I fit in, but I was pretty sure whatever it was – it was the disposable kind.
It had taken me several expensive sessions with a psychologist just to accept that, and then a couple more to move on from knowing that I could never be important enough to be in Marcus’ box of all-in access.
“Anneke?”
Seeing that he was still waiting for my answer, I said vaguely, “Oh, just a thought.” And not wanting us to get any deeper with that, I quickly changed the subject, saying, “So...” I smiled uncertainly. “How have you been?”
It had been two weeks since our last meeting in Italy, and today was the earliest we had been able to make our hectic schedules work for both of us.
“Life goes on,” was all Marcus said.
Riiiight.
It was probably the whole Italian macho thing, I thought, that made men like Marcus Ravelli prefer to grieve in silence.
“Would you like anything to drink?” Marcus was asking as he headed to his en-suite bar.
“Just water please.” I watched Marcus take his jacket off and lay it on the counter and tried not to stare when he bent down to take out a bottle of water from his beverage cooler.
Marcus Ravelli had a really nice butt.
He turned around, and I hastily looked away before he realized I had been ogling him.
Marcus handed me a glass of sparkling water, the ice cubes clinking against each other. “Here you go, bambina.”
“Thank you.” I watched him walk back to his table. So tall, I mused absently, and so powerfully built. Was this really the man whose cock I had been sucking just two weeks ago?
Marcus perched himself on the edge of his table, murmuring, “About the merger...”
I involuntarily straightened in my seat, my gaze automatically swinging towards the couch at the other side of the room. I supposed that was where the merger could...start?
My heart skipped at the thought, and I suddenly couldn’t stop thinking of all the office trysts I had read about and seen in movies over the years. Heat began to pool in my thighs, and I crossed my legs.
Crap.
“I’ve taken the liberty of drafting a proposal.”
I nodded absently.
A proposal—-
Wait.
What?
My gaze flew back to Marcus, and to my surprise, he had a sheaf of papers in his hands. “What’s that?”
Marcus blinked. “A proposal?”
I was confused. Maybe this was a role-play thing, and those papers were only there to add authenticity to the, well, merger?
“It’s not legally binding,” Marcus assured me.
What wasn’t legally binding? The merger? Was it supposed to be?
“I simply thought it would be easier if we had everything in writing.”
As Marcus kept speaking, it was beginning to dawn on me that I might have misunderstood some things.
Crap.
“We could go over it point by point—-” Marcus broke off, his gaze narrowing when he saw me fanning my face in a futile attempt to get rid of my reddened cheeks. “What is it?”
I tried but failed to talk and coughed instead.
Marcus lowered the papers back to his desk. “Tell me.”
Crap.
Did he use that commanding tone because he knew how irresistible I found it?
I cleared my throat. “Well.” I could feel my cheeks burning hotter as I thought of what I was about to reveal. “The thing about the merger...”
“Go on.” Marcus crossed his arms over his chest. I was momentarily distracted by the way the muscles in his arms bunched under the sleeves of his shirt, which he had once again rolled to his elbow.
“Anneke?”
Crap. The sound of my name on his lips had me uncrossing and crossing my legs, a futile attempt to stem the flow of wetness that continued drenching my panties. “The thing is...” I couldn’t quite meet his gaze as I made my confession. “When you talked about a merger, I thought it was...you know.”
“No, bambina,” Marcus said dryly. “I’m afraid I do not know. So if you care to enlighten me?”
I squirmed, saying finally, “A secret code.”
“A secret code,” Marcus echoed blankly. “For what?”
I stared at him. “You know.”
Marcus’ lips slowly compressed.
“It was a perfectly reasonable assumption to make,” I said defensively.
“Of course.” But his shoulders had begun to shake.
“It really was!”
And then he was laughing. “Ah, bambina.” In one swift motion, he was on his feet and he had me out of the chair and in his arms, my legs automatically around his waist while my arms went around his neck.
Marcus grinned at me. “I am glad that this part of you has not changed either.”
“I’m not,” I muttered, “and this is your fault. You just keep saying things that I either don’t get or I’m bound to misunderstand—-” I threw him an accusing look. “And you know it!”