Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
I wait, my hands on the wheel, for him to move his huge car, but two minutes later, he’s still stationary and my patience is beginning to fray. I start to grind my teeth, and a few minutes later, I’m smashing my horn. It has no effect. Sharp sits in the driver’s seat of his car, busy on his phone, calm as can be.
“Arsehole,” I mutter, swinging my door open and marching over. I rap on his window and it begins to lower, though he keeps his eyes on the screen of his phone. “Move,” I order curtly.
“No,” he retorts simply. The window starts to rise, and I gape at him, not that he takes much notice of my affronted state.
I beat the side of my fist on his window, and the glass comes down again, his attention still on his phone. “I have an eleven o’clock meeting with my agent,” I inform him as calm as can be. “I haven’t got time for this.”
“Then I suggest you stop being difficult and get in.” The window lifts again, denying me the opportunity to reach in and strangle the bastard.
I let out a frustrated yell and stomp over to my car, swiping my bag from the seat and slamming the door. I’ve never met such an infuriating man!
Getting in his car, steam virtually bursting from my ears, I slam my back into the seat and grab my phone from my bag. Sharp pulls off without a word, and I dial my father. I can’t deal with this. It isn’t fair.
“Camille.” Dad’s straight voice does nothing to settle me. It simply reminds me who he is and that my protests are going to get me nowhere on this occasion. But I still try.
“Dad.” I aim for sweetness, locking back the sass that I’m sure he’s expecting. “As much as I appreciate your concern, I can’t have this bloke following me around. I have work to do. Meetings to go to. He’s getting in my way.”
“Camille, I already told you that this is not up for discussion.”
“Is this about Sebastian?” I ask. “Because I can assure you I won’t be seeing him ever again.”
“This is not about Sebastian. This is about a threat I’m not comfortable with. Sharp stays until we find out who sent it.”
“But—”
“Camille, I haven’t got time for this.” He cuts me off, and my Elvis lip takes shape. “I’m in the middle of an important meeting. Sharp is staying. I’ll hear no more of it.” He hangs up, and I throw my phone into my bag, so fucking wound up!
I’ve always defied my control-freak father. Always done what I want instead of what he wants. This is the first time ever that I really don’t have any choice, because unless I kill Sharp off, I’m not getting rid of him. I’m powerless. And I hate it.
Glimpsing out the corner of my eye discreetly, I see his profile, his eyes trained on the road. He hasn’t even flinched while I’ve been talking about him like he isn’t here. That’s what I need to do. Pretend he isn’t here. No more lapsing from stable to annoyingly admiring him. No more sneak peeks at his broad chest or the evident power of his muscles. No more wondering about him. Not in any capacity. He looks across to me, and I quickly avert my eyes, mortified that I was doing all of those things just then and he caught me doing it. I definitely hear him chuckle lightly under his breath, and I flip him a scowl, the salt-and-pepper fleck at his temple holding my attention. “How old are you, anyway?” It just falls right out of my mouth without warning, mortifying me.
“Thirty-five.” He turns an amused half-smile toward me. “You?”
My scowl deepens. Yes, because he wouldn’t know that after reading up on me. I turn away, ignoring him.
“Where’s your agent’s office?” he asks, as he turns out of my street the correct way, telling me he already knows exactly where he’s going. He’s trying to get me talking. So I keep my mouth shut, ignoring him again. He’s making my life miserable, and I intend on reciprocating. He’ll quit by the end of the day.
* * *
We pull up outside my agent Kerry’s office in Hatton Garden and I jump out, shutting the door behind me without a word. I spot Heather waiting outside for me and hurry over, ignoring her small smile when she obviously spots Sharp. She embraces me. “So how’s—”
“Don’t ask,” I warn, breaking away and opening the door. I know he’s a few paces behind us as we take the stairs to the first floor, and when we walk into my agent’s office and her eyes widen, looking past us, I know I’m going to have to explain. Like I said before, it’s not like he can be ignored. “Short-term arrangement,” I say, approaching my agent’s desk and taking a seat.