Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 156029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
“I only date women that are beautiful to me.” He frowns as he thinks for a moment. “Although lately my tastes have become very eclectic.”
“How so?”
“Being beautiful and nothing else doesn’t do it for me anymore.” He picks up my hand and kisses my fingertips. I feel the effect of it all the way to my toes.
I stare at him, lost for words, but with so much to say.
“You, for example,” he continues. “The things that attracted me to you have kept me awake at night all week.”
“Such as?”
“You’re innately feminine. You have a confident air about you, but then...” He pauses. “When I touched you, you were frightened of me.”
I stare at him, heart fluttering and words lost.
“I’m guessing you are very intelligent and articulate, but you’re kept in an ivory palace by your brother so that men can’t get to you, which means you definitely don’t sleep around.”
How does he know this?
“I believe that you will probably end up marrying someone of your family’s choosing who is extremely wealthy, and you’ll live a life of luxury—one that is expected of you.”
I sit back in my chair, appalled by his assumptions… mainly because they are true.
“This is what you’ve been thinking about all week?” I sip my wine. “And here I was thinking that you were imagining how to pleasure me during those intimate relations you spoke of.” I roll my eyes in disgust. “You’re a disappointment, Spencer Jones.”
He laughs, deep and loud, and I feel it all the way through my bones. “I don’t need to imagine how to please you in bed. I know how to do that, without a doubt.”
Oh, I like this guy, he’s so different than anyone I’ve ever met before.
“Well, you’re wrong about one thing,” I say. “If I ever choose to marry, I’m marrying for love and my family will have nothing to do with it. And what about you, Spencer? Why are you single at the age of thirty-eight?”
He smiles and leans back in his chair. “Now, that is the million-dollar question. I could tell you some random bullshit about not finding the right girl.”
“Bullshit?”
He shrugs. “I have found the right girl. Over and over, I’ve found the right girl.”
“But?” That wasn’t the answer I was expecting at all.
“I haven’t found anyone who is worth fighting myself over.”
“Fighting yourself?” I ask. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s hard to explain.”
I sit forward in my seat, fascinated by the man in front of me. “Try.”
He smiles a slow, sexy smile, and he sips his wine, his dark eyes holding mine. “This is not the conversation I imagined us having tonight.”
“Likewise.” I smile. This conversation is refreshingly honest.
He sighs softly. “I love women, I love sex, and I love my independence.”
I choose not to respond.
“And I am not in the business of hurting people, so I don’t risk it.”
“Risk it?”
“I couldn’t be with someone, be in love, and then be unfaithful. It’s just not who I am. Hence why I’ve chosen not to be with just one woman thus far.”
“But you have friends with benefits?”
“Yes.”
“Is that what you want with me?”
A trace of a frown crosses his face. “Surprisingly… no.”
“What do you want from me then?”
He stares at me. “That’s what I’m here trying to work out.”
Our meal arrives, and we begin to eat in silence. He seems comfortable, but my mind is racing. What the hell is this date about? What does he want from me? For a long time, I eat in silence as I troll through my brain for a logical answer…
And then I get it.
This is how he does it.
This is how he gets women to sleep with him with no strings attached. He’s so honest and heartfelt, you want to slip straight into being one of his friends with benefits… because he assures you that there is no chance of getting hurt.
These women all know what they are signing up for and they don’t care.
And right at this moment, I would give my right arm for him to take me home for some of his so-called intimate relations. I get a vision of the all the images of him with women from Google, and I cringe. Being one of those stupid girls is the last thing I need.
Stop it.
Don’t fall for this crap.
He’s a player …and his game is strong.
I need to change the subject. “What do you do for work, Spencer?”
“Spence,” he corrects me.
“Spence.” I smile around my mouthful of food.
“I am an architect and I own a steel manufacturing company.”
I frown as I chew. “How do those two things merge together?”
“I used to design skyscrapers. In the designing process I found a niche in the market that wasn’t being met, so I designed a new form of steel. I now ship to most first-world countries, and I have around four hundred staff working for me.”