Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
He swung open the door. “Miss Davenport, sir.”
“Thank you, Benjamin,” said a deep, distinctive voice packed with smoke, velvet, and little grains of sand.
Hearing it made a shower of memories pelt me like hailstones. Many of those memories were somewhat X-rated, and it was a total wonder that heat didn’t flood my cheeks.
Fuck, you’re tight. You’re going to feel me for days, Addison.
Forcing myself to loosen my death grip on the strap of my black, leather satchel, I stepped inside. The office was nothing like mine. Luxurious and elegantly masculine, it was all dark woods, shiny leather, and clean lines.
I didn’t take in much of my surroundings. My attention went straight to the male stood near one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, a mug in hand. A pair of mismatched, dark-ringed eyes—one a glacial blue, one a rich green—honed in on me with lethal precision, the whites so clear they made the colors even more vivid.
My pulse skipped, my belly took a nosedive, and—damn it all—an uncurbed, biochemical attraction worked its way through me … leaving me mentally flustered and feeling so very, very alive.
Funsies.
Neat and well-groomed in his dark, tailored suit and black shiny loafers, Dax looked as refined and powerful as he did brutally sensual. There was no denying it—the man had style. And a tongue that could perform sexual magic, but it was better if I didn’t think about that.
His short, stylishly cut hair was sleek and black. A fine layer of dark scruff dusted his strong jaw and the strip of skin above his upper lip. A lip as sensual and full as the one beneath it.
He was way over six-feet. His clothes did nothing to hide his toned build. Seriously, his body was yum. I’d always loved watching his hard muscles fluidly flex and flow in his arms, chest, back, and broad shoulders as he moved. His butt … it was so firm and, gah, I really wanted to bite it. Just once.
The thin, faint scar slicing across the side of his face matched the one on his right palm. Both scars ramped up his air of civilized aggression; warned of the danger lurking within.
In sum, Dax Mercier was a beacon of devastating, unabashed masculinity.
I gave my chin a respectful dip. “Mr. Mercier.” It seemed better to keep things formal; it would help remind me I was here in a professional capacity.
A glint of humor briefly danced in his eyes. “Miss Davenport,” he greeted, the words smooth as silk.
“Would anyone like coffee? Tea? Water?” asked Benjamin.
I gave the PA a grateful smile. “No thanks, I’m fine.”
Dax raised his mug. “I haven’t finished this one yet.”
“Then I’ll leave you both to it,” said Benjamin.
Hearing the door close behind me with a soft snick of sound, I advanced further into the office. Dax slowly stalked toward me, a predatory edge to every step. He held out a hand—one that had done all sorts of deliciously indecent things to me in the past.
Pushing that out of my mind, I joined my palm to his … and might have pulled back if his warm, calloused fingers hadn’t closed around mine, because a little crackle of electricity zapped my hand. My breath almost got snagged in my throat.
His eyelids lowered slightly, and tension turned the air static. Allowing that tension to simmer, he didn’t release me. Didn’t move at all. Didn’t say a word. Just stared at me, his thickly-lashed, steady gaze holding mine with a blatant boldness that I might have found intimidating if I wasn’t used to dealing with such powerful personalities.
I met that unrelenting stare just as boldly, refusing to look away first. His mouth hitched up in a faint, lopsided, oh-so-familiar smile that made my gut twist.
Finally, he let go of my hand. “Thank you for coming.” He gestured at a chair in the lounge area. “Sit.” A smooth invitation that held a daring note.
Pulling my professional cloak tight around me, I did as he asked and dug my tablet out of my satchel.
“It’s been a while.” He sank into the chair opposite me, making the leather creak. “How are you?”
“Great,” I replied, switching on my tablet. “You?”
“Fine.” Dax splayed a hand on one armrest while balancing his mug on the other. “And your family? I haven’t seen your father in quite some time.”
“They’re all well. I hope you can say the same for your own family.”
“I can, thank you.”
How polite were we? I cleared my throat. “Before we get down to business, I’d like to disclose something upfront.” It would be unfair to do otherwise, and I would prefer to know in advance if I was wasting my time here.
He inched up a brow. “Which is?”
Pretending I wasn’t at all affected by how he looked every inch a king in that chair—shoulders back, spine straight, legs spread, projecting authority and self-assurance—I explained, “I don’t know how much contact you have with your cousin, Felicity. You may or may not know that she’s not a fan of mine.”