Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 153(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 153(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
“Since you came straight here, I assume your luggage is still in your car?”
Samantha nodded as she hesitantly stood, hiking her purse strap over her shoulder before smoothing her skirt down.
“Perfect. Let’s go.” I strode to the office door and opened it, then stepped aside so she could exit ahead of me.
“You don’t have to leave work early on my account,” she insisted as she approached.
“I’m not.” I made a mental note to text my assistant and have her cancel my two evening meetings.
We walked to the elevator in comfortable silence, but once we were alone in the lift, the sexual tension between us seemed to crackle with electricity. We both faced the door, but I could feel Samantha’s gaze sliding up to me several times, and I fought with my desire to shove her back against the wall and kiss the hell out of her.
However, the knowledge of the security cameras and fear that I wouldn’t be able to stop once I began kept me from making a move.
The doors slid open in the parking garage, and I ignored my Aston Martin Vulcan parked in the CEO spot and held my hand out to Samantha. “Keys,” I requested.
Samantha’s brow went up, and she double blinked. “You want to drive my car?”
“Do you know where we’re going?” I asked with a smirk.
“Well, no, but what about your car?”
I shrugged and looked pointedly at my empty hand. “Someone can bring this one to me if I need it, but it won’t be necessary because I have several more cars at home.” Actually, the Aston Martin was the only one I had at my penthouse in the city. The other cars were in the garage at my house in Winnetka. It was forty-five minutes from the city, so I stayed in the penthouse during the week unless I had family visiting—the only people I ever brought to my home.
I suddenly realized I wanted to take Samantha to the house. It was where she belonged. And once I had her there, I wouldn’t let her leave without me—to ensure she always returned—until she agreed to make it her permanent home.
Samantha studied me curiously, then dug into her purse and withdrew her car keys. “I’m over there.” She gestured toward a mostly empty area of the garage, and I frowned when I realized she’d been out here alone, walking to the door in a dimly lit space where someone could have hurt her.
Her keys landed in my palm, and my fingers closed around them as I glared at the shitty lights that were supposed to illuminate the underground space. I’d be having a chat with our VP of Facilities about putting in brighter lights, and a lot of them. Although, I doubted I’d ever be comfortable with Samantha walking out here alone, especially at night.
I followed her confident steps, practically salivating over her naturally sexy movements. We stopped at a green Volkswagen Arteon, and she glanced at the car, then back at me dubiously. “Are you sure you want to take my car? I can’t imagine you’ll be very comfortable.”
I laughed as I unlocked the car and pulled open the passenger side door. “I’ve ridden in smaller vehicles,” I admitted. “It may seem like it, but this one isn’t much smaller than my Aston Martin.”
Samantha scrunched her nose adorably and looked me up and down. “Why would you drive such a small car?”
I captured her hand and helped her lower down into her seat, then crouched beside her and reached for her seat belt. “Because it’s fast,” I murmured in her ear. “And powerful.” I clicked her strap into place, then took hold of her chin, turning her head so that her bright blue eyes met my burning ones. “And sexy as hell. Also because I’d never been so overwhelmingly tempted by something.”
Our eyes remained locked for a few electrified moments, then I whispered, “Until now,” and pushed to my feet.
I jogged around to the driver’s side and climbed into the car, then drove out of the garage and headed north.
3
SAMANTHA
Holy crap. I knew that James was a billionaire like his brother, but for some reason, it hadn’t struck me exactly what that meant for his lifestyle until he turned into the driveway of a house that would be better described as an estate. I didn’t even want to know how much the home—that had to be at least ten-thousand square feet—was worth, especially since it was located in the richest suburb of Chicago—which also made it the wealthiest town in the entire state.
Instead of pulling into the garage, he parked my car on the circular drive in front of the impressive white brick house. My car was nice enough, but it looked out of place in this neighborhood. I wouldn’t be surprised if the three-car garage was filled with cars like the Ferrari his brother drove. It was another reminder of how far out of my league James was, no matter how attracted I was to him.