A Million Different Ways Read online P. Dangelico (Horn Duet #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Horn Duet Series by P. Dangelico
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Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
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My lids lowered over annoyed eyes. “Hilarious, but I still don’t understand why I need one.”

The soft look on his face vanished and his eyes narrowed. “Because I need to be able to get a hold of you whenever I need to. I won’t go through that again, not to mention it’s safer for you.” There wasn’t anything I could say or do to dissuade him, resolve was splashed across his handsome face. I looked at my new iPhone suspiciously. “My cell phone, my office, and my email are already programed in there.”

“I hope you plan on being judicious when you say ‘get a hold of me when you need to’,” I warned. Looking at the screen, I scrolled through the contacts.

Your Highness…iPhone

Your Highness…Email

Your Highness…Office

I didn’t fight the smile growing on my face. Then he held up his phone. My gaze swept over the screen and there, in bright, shiny letters––

Her Majesty…iPhone

Her Majesty…Email

He caught me by the waist and wrapped me in his arms. He sprinkled teasing kisses on my throat, my temple, my nose while I laughed at his playfulness. Sighing happily, I pulled back and gazed into his warm eyes––where adoration gave way to awe. It was still new, seeing his emotions shining openly there. I wrapped my hands around his cherished face and ran my thumbs lightly over the planes of his features, committing every subtle nuance to memory.

“Do you know how much I love you?” It rushed out of me. It didn’t often; I still felt the heavy burden of my past, of what I hadn’t told him. I abhorred dishonesty and it troubled me that I was as guilty of it as a thief at confession. He said it freely though. Unencumbered by shame or secrets, once he had spoken the words, he couldn’t say it enough.

He pushed me up onto his desk and stepped in between my legs. His warm hands spread on my knees and skimmed wickedly over my stockings, up my thighs. When I cupped his erection, his hips hitched up, pressing harder into my hand.

“I love you more,” he crooned between unhurried kisses. “I need you.”

The heat in the room turned up by a hundred degrees. In short order, he had me panting and writhing, begging for him. I stepped back, outside of myself, and watched the scene from a distance. The woman with legs spread apart invitingly, the one gripping the edge of the desk for leverage with her head thrown back in abandon…that woman wasn’t me. I didn’t recognize her. Anybody could have walked in. When had I become so reckless? The day you met him whispered that tiny voice of reason. This is who I was now. He had irrevocably changed me. That realization was hard to accept because it only begged the question––who was I going to be after him?

His restless hands ruched up the skirt of my uniform and discovered the lacy tops of my new thigh high stockings. The question mark in his eyes turned into a playful smirk.

“You destroyed four pairs of perfectly good hose last week alone. I thought these might work better if you’re going to keep accosting me in dark corners.”

His smile opened up into one of his mind numbing, thousand watt stunners. “Are you being sexually harassed in the workplace, Miss Sava?”

My head fell back to give him better access to my neck. I grabbed the hard globes of his beautiful derrière and pulled him closer. “Yes, thank God.”

The pleasant sound of his laughter filled the room before he returned to skillfully seducing me.

Chapter Thirty

“This event is really important.”

I glanced up and watched a crease appear between his brows, disrupting the flawlessness of his face. It only succeeded in highlighting his spectacular looks, made him real, not a figment of my imagination.

Casually, I asked, “It’s seven, shouldn’t you be on your way to the office?” The determined look on his face warned me that something was brewing.

He was wearing one of his pale grey gabardine suits; the narrow one that made him look impossibly tall and broad shouldered. Standing in front of the French doors of his bedroom with his hands on his hips and a halo of soft morning light glowing around him, he looked like an irritable archangel sent down from the heavens to remind me just how mortal and flawed I was.

My desire for him was raging out of control, growing stronger each day. So much for the theory that we could slake this lust and be done with it. I concentrated on making his bed. It was my only defense.

“Most of the important bank clients will be attending. It’s my father’s foundation. I have to be there.”

Trying to stave off a potential argument, I avoided his perceptive gaze and folded the Pratesi sheets back so that the intricate scrollwork on the edge faced up.



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