Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Almost everyone else at this very large dining table has, including my executive assistant.
I could tell she wasn’t a fan of the red wine poured into her glass by Linus, one of Randall’s friends. Thank Christ he has a wide gold band wrapped around his ring finger.
Jimmy, another acquaintance of Randall’s, is also in a relationship. He video chatted with the woman he’s involved with. He did that as the first course was being served. When he spun the phone around so everyone could raise a hand in greeting, I didn’t join in.
I saw no reason to since Charlotte stole the show by telling the woman she couldn’t wait to meet her at the wedding. When the phone was pointed at Evangeline, she waved and whispered a soft hello to Jimmy’s girlfriend.
My assistant is reserved and demure but still looks like a sexy siren with her signature red lipstick.
“Is that Bandello’s red, Evie?” I ask across the table when I catch her looking at her glass before she shakes her head slightly.
Her eyes reach mine as a slow smile spreads over those very kissable lips of hers. “Yes.”
I nod. “I’ll get you something else.”
Before she can protest or anyone else can slide to their feet to help her (namely, Pete), I’m on my way to the expansive kitchen.
This home has had at least one extensive renovation since I was here as a kid. From what I remember, it looked like a palace back then, too. Any improvements made were unnecessary in my book, but when the wealthy have money to burn, they’ll generally do it for one reason and one reason only.
To impress their equally rich friends.
As soon as I know I’m out of everyone’s view, I stop to rest a hand on the marble countertop and take a deep breath. It doesn’t help. My pulse has been racing since I first caught sight of my assistant standing in this house.
I feel like a kid with a crush, but I’m not a kid.
I’m a man with an aching desire to kiss that lipstick right off Miss Starling’s mouth.
“Reid?” Her whisper soft voice takes me completely by surprise.
I turn to find her standing less than a foot away from me. One sharp inhale of breath results in the gentle scent of her perfume enveloping me.
I’ll never look at a rose the same way again.
“Are you all right?”
Leave it to her to be concerned for me. “I’m fine. Why?”
“You seem different.” Her gaze falls to the open collar of my white linen shirt before it drops to my faded jeans.
I roll one sleeve up to my elbow. “It’s hot in here.”
She briefly glances down at the unmistakable outline of her hardened nipples under her T-shirt. “I think the air conditioning is set to its highest setting.”
“It can’t be,” I mutter, rolling the other sleeve.
“I came to help,” she tells me. “I think I’ll just have a glass of the iced tea Randall was raving about.”
She’s being too kind. He sputtered out a bunch of nonsense about making a pitcher of stellar iced tea, and since no one took him up on his offer of a glass, she’s feeding his ego by having some. I watched him make it. He had no clue what he was doing.
“It’s going to be bitter,” I warn her as she grabs a tall glass from the counter before she walks toward the pitcher of tea in the middle of one of the two islands in the kitchen.
“That’s not how he described it,” she says.
I watch her pour a full glass before she raises it to her lips. The expression on her face says it all as she gets her first taste.
“Spit it out,” I suggest, pointing toward the sink near her.
She ignores my advice and swallows. “I never spit out.”
She’s talking about the iced tea, but dammit if my brain can process that. All I can think about is the load I’m going to have to shoot out in the shower later while I imagine her on her knees in front of me, taking it all down her throat.
“You never spit out,” I repeat in a low tone.
Her gaze catches mine, and I see the moment she realizes how it sounded.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” she whispers. “Although I don’t spit that out either.”
I didn’t need to know that, and yet, at the same time, I’ll never be able to forget it.
She barks out a nervous laugh. “I need to shut up. I meant that I generally don’t spit anything out.”
She can keep digging this hole as deep as she wants because I’m not going anywhere.
That’s a lie. I take a step closer to where she’s standing.
She doesn’t retreat. She holds her ground with her gaze locked on me. That’s fair because I can’t take my eyes off of her.