Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 114775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
He looks good. But then he always looks good. I hate that.
His eyes lift from his phone to me.
His look cuts right through me.
“Hey,” I say, swallowing past my nerves.
“Hi.” There’s no tone to his response, giving me nothing as to what he’s thinking.
I move slowly toward him through the kitchen. His eyes stay trained on me the whole time.
I slip into the seat across from him. I put the empty glass on the table, my shoes on the floor next to me, and hold his T-shirt in my lap.
I don’t really know where to start, what to go with. My eyes drift around the room and then hook onto my bag, which is sitting on the counter.
I really need to ring Cece, but I need to speak to him first.
But he beats me to it. “Your phone kept ringing and ringing. I didn’t want to wake you. I figured it must be important, whoever was calling, so I answered it for you. It was your friend, Cece. She was worried that she hadn’t heard from you. I told her that you were here, you were safe, and you’d be home in the morning.”
He spoke to Cece. Oh my God.
Well, at least she wasn’t left worrying about me all night. But that is going to be one hell of an interesting conversation I’ll have with her later.
“Thank you,” I say. Then, I can’t help but ask, “Why didn’t you take me home?”
He pins me with a stare that has me squirming in my chair. “Because I didn’t know where you lived. You passed out before telling me.”
“My address is on your employee records,” I challenge.
“Which are here.”
Oh. Yeah.
“How did I get to bed?”
He gives me a look that clearly states he thinks I’m dumb. “I carried you.”
“I was that out of it, huh?”
“Yeah. I don’t think a bomb going off would’ve woken you up.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was funny, listening to you snore.”
“I don’t snore!” I say, aghast.
His lips curl up into a stunning smile, and he laughs.
A memory of me telling him yesterday that he had a beautiful laugh and that he should laugh more slips into my mind.
“Do I really snore?” I ask him.
He grins and nods. “Like a pig.”
I like that he’s smiling, so I don’t fight him on it. “Must’ve been the alcohol because I don’t snore normally.”
“Hmm…yeah, must’ve been.”
I can hear the laughter in his voice. It makes my heart swell.
I curl my fingers around his T-shirt and then remember waking up in it.
My face flushes. “Did you, um…” I bite my lip. “Undress me?” I wince on the words.
There’s a long silence.
I peek up through my lashes at him.
And I would be lying if I said that I didn’t see the flash of heat in his eyes. Or that I wasn’t affected by that flash of heat.
“I thought you’d be more comfortable in my T-shirt. But don’t worry, Daisy. I was the perfect gentleman. I barely looked at all.”
“But you did look a little.”
Oh my God. Did I actually just say that?
I want to die in my seat, but I force myself to hold steady and keep his gaze.
Kas’s expression doesn’t falter. Not even a flicker.
Then, his lip curls a little at the corner.
I’d like to say that I’m unaffected by that as well, but I’m totally not.
I’m squirming, and I’m hot in places that haven’t been hot in a very long time.
“Well, thank you for taking care of me,” I manage to say. “And for the loan of the T-shirt. I’ll wash it.”
He lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug. “Would you like some coffee? Something to eat?” he offers as he gets up from his seat, taking his plate and cup along with my empty water glass.
I nearly fall off my chair in shock. “Um…coffee would be great. Thank you.”
I watch him pour us each a coffee. Then, he adds milk to mine. I didn’t even realize that he knew how I took my coffee.
He puts my drink down in front of me and then sits back in his seat across from me, holding his drink in his hand. “You should eat something. I’m guessing you have the hangover from hell?”
I watch him take a sip of his coffee.
“I’ve felt better.” I offer a small smile. “But I don’t think I can manage anything at the moment.”
I curl my hands around my cup and lift it to my mouth, taking a small sip.
God, it tastes good. He makes damn good coffee.
I put the cup down, keeping my hands around it. I look him in the eye.
He’s already watching me. The look in his eyes seems curious. Like I’m a puzzle that he can’t figure out.
I wonder if my eyes reflect the same. Because I honestly cannot figure him out.
He exudes this harsh exterior, but beneath all of that is a guy who will get in his car and drive to London to pick up his drunk employee, bring her back to his home, and take care of her.