Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
He grabs my hand and squeezes it. “Coffee and dessert can wait. Let’s dance.”
Oh shit.
He’s still gripping my hand as he stands up and I hate myself for getting up, but I do.
I’m cursing this man as he drags me to the dance floor and then turns around with a skeevy smile on his leathery lips.
“I love Mariah Carey,” he says as he puts his hands on my hips. I’m standing as far from him as I can, barely touching his dandruff dusted shoulders with the tips of my fingers. “Don’t you?”
“She’s great,” I say, wishing that this song I supposedly love is over. Quickly.
I keep my eyes on the ceiling, on the floor, on the other dancers around us—anywhere but on him.
“I like you, Carrie,” he says as he stares into my averted eyes. “I’d like to give you a promotion.”
This gets my attention and I look at him for the first time.
“In exchange for what?” I ask, looking at him skeptically. My sales numbers at work have been shit and I haven’t exactly been the model employee today.
“I like your style,” he says. “I’d like you to be my personal assistant.”
“Like your secretary?”
“No, I have one of those. This is more… personal. You’d be working in my office along with me. You’d be at my beck and call. We’d have a… special relationship that wouldn’t always be focused on work.”
“Ugh!” I say with a look of disgust as I step back from him.
“Can I cut in?” a deep masculine voice asks from behind me.
“Yes!” I say, practically jumping into Eli’s arms.
“Excuse me!” Mr. Miller shouts as his face turns an angry red. “We were dancing!”
He reaches for me, but Eli slaps his hand away. “And now it’s over. Go sit down. Now.”
I have to fight back my grin as Mr. Miller drops his head and sheepishly shuffles back to the table with his tail between his legs. Even a powerful man like him isn’t about to go head to head with Eli when he has that territorial look in his eyes.
“Thank you,” I say with a breath of relief. “You have no idea what that man was about to ask me.”
His eyes darken and I shift a little closer to his flexed body. “What was it?” he asks, looking like he’s about to punch out my boss in front of everyone.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say as I wrap my arms around his neck and breathe in his intoxicating cologne. “Just thank you for saving me.”
His strong arms are wrapped around me, his clasped hands resting dangerously close to the top of my ass. I don’t mind his hands on me as we sway to the music and stare into each other’s eyes.
“I’ve been kicking myself all day with the foolish way I’ve been acting around you,” he says. His gorgeous dark brown eyes are locked onto mine, making me tingle all over.
“I thought it was kinda cute,” I say as I smile at him. “Like a little kid with a grade school crush.”
I start to blush when I realize what I said. Maybe I’m being too forward.
“Not that you have a crush on me…”
“I do,” he says with a firm unwavering voice. “I’m already obsessed with you, Carrie. Is that crazy?”
“There can’t be love without a little bit of crazy,” I say. “Not that we’re there yet.”
“Right,” he says as he looks down at me with his smoldering eyes. “Not that we’re there. Yet.”
He looks like he’s already there with that heated gaze burning into me. We just hold onto each other for a little bit as the music plays. Everything else—the other guests in the hall, my asshole boss, the staff—it all fades away until it’s just the two of us dancing to the music.
“So, how do you act when you’re not a fool in love?” I ask him with a grin.
“I’m actually good at sports.”
I snort out a laugh.
“It’s true!” he says. “But golf is not a real sport unless you’re over sixty years old.”
“What do you play?”
“Anything with water. Water polo, surfing, white water rafting—”
“Pond wading?”
“Exactly.” Our smiles turn into laughs as we stare into each other’s eyes. “Chasing after you today has felt like a sport.”
“One more you’re not really good at,” I say with a grin. “Perhaps if I was in water…”
“I can get you into the shower if you prefer.”
“I’m more of a bath girl.”
His big chest rises with a couple of heavy breaths. No doubt, he’s picturing me naked in a bathtub right now. I stay silent for a bit to let him enjoy the image.
“Who is that guy?” he says, glancing at my table. My boss is watching us, looking pissed.
“My asshole boss,” I say, not wanting to ruin the moment by talking about him. “I’ve been there for two months and he’s already wanting to move me into his office.”