Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
The other men in this group all seem open and that’s great because they’re going to be talking about very personal things in front of each other and me. But I’m already getting the feeling that Russell is going to find the whole project mortifying. It could take some serious journalistic skills to pry information from him.
“He’ll be a tough nut to crack.” Oliver’s read my mind.
“He knows what he’s here for,” I say quickly. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a bundle of positivity?”
Before I get a chance to answer, hands clamp around my ankles, and I’m tugged off the edge of the pool and under the water, still fully dressed. The shock of the cool water takes my breath away, and I flap my arms frantically, not sure which way is up and which way is down. Strong hands grab my waist, lifting me, and as my face breaks the surface, I let out a loud and frantic gasp.
Jonas’s grin is the first thing I see when I swipe my eyes clear of the stinging pool water and melting mascara. “What the hell?” I shout, pushing at his arms, wanting to get out of his grip as soon as I can.
“You were looking hot and bothered up there. I thought it was time for you to let your hair down.”
“Jonas, man! You shouldn’t have done that,” Theron says, and Gabe immediately agrees.
“You practically drowned me and ruined a very expensive blouse.”
“I’m sure it will dry just fine.”
“Oh, you’re an expert on fabrics and laundry now, are you?” I’m justified in being angry, but I cringe at the sound of my whiney, petulant voice. Jonas is unphased.
“I’m an expert at a lot of things,” he says. “And you’ve got to admit, on a hot day like this, being in the pool is better than being out.”
He’s right about the water being refreshing, and his unrestrained glee about me sharing in the pool fun has my icy response thawing just a little.
“Jonas, you can’t just go dragging me into the pool whenever you feel like it. What would have happened if I had my phone in my pocket, or a family heirloom watch, which isn’t waterproof on my wrist?”
“It would have been a very expensive prank,” Jonas says. “Lucky you left your phone on the counter, and your wrists are bare.”
This infuriating man has excellent powers of observation and smells too good, too. He holds my gaze with eyes so uniquely silver, I’m filled with the sensation of slipping into liquid metal. Heat slides from my belly to between my legs, the cool water not enough to quench the inferno of arousal that I feel at being up close and personal with such a sexy man. Flustered, I drop my gaze, finding my focus on Jonas’s rounded shoulders and pecs, my mouth falling open involuntarily at the manly perfection of his body. His fingers flex tighter at my waist and then suddenly, he’s lifting me until my butt is resting on the side of the pool. “I tell you what, Allie. You go get your bathing suit on, and if you like, you can start asking me all your cock questions. I’m more than happy to go first.”
Jimmy splashes his friend, but Jonas isn’t bothered by an avalanche of pool water. He simply shakes the droplets from his straight, blond hair like a dog emerging from a swim in a lake, and places his hands either side of my thighs, gripping the edge of the pool. “I think I’m going to enjoy answering your questions, Allie.”
“Jonas, man! Leave her alone,” Jimmy says.
I twist my head and find Oliver watching everything with an inscrutable look on his face. He holds out his hand to me and I take it, bringing my feet up and out of the pool and pushing into a standing position. My clothes cling to my body uncomfortably. Without saying a word, he leads me to an area at the side of the pool where there is a set of cupboards. Opening a door, he pulls out a fresh towel, secured in a spa-like roll, and shakes it out, gently wrapping it around my shoulders. “Why don’t you come upstairs and take off those wet clothes?” he says softly, nodding his head in gentle encouragement.
“Okay.” As I breathe in the scent of his expensive cologne, something about his energy makes me want to comply.
Nodding again, he raises his chin and glances at the pool area, then he takes my hand and leads me back into the house.
“Be careful you don’t slip,” Oliver says, “And don’t worry about Jonas.” He releases my hand so he can grab his suitcase.
“Oh, I’m not.” But inside, I’m already riled up at the feeling that these men think this assignment is just one big joke.