Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
She opened her mouth to refuse but clamped it shut. She did want to go. “Yeah, sounds good. I’ll be done here in about ten. That work for you?”
He didn’t respond, and she waited as he stared at her, however it was like he didn’t see her, but looked through her.
“Mr. Rhodes?”
Nothing. Not even a blink.
“Hastings!”
A slow, languid blink before his sinfully enticing lips curved up. “I like how you yell my name, Curls. Can’t wait until you whisper it in my ear as I make you come all over my cock.” He winked. “Downstairs in ten.”
“Fuck me,” she muttered.
At the door he turned back. “If I come after you, we won’t get there today.”
She gave him a tight smile. “Leave so I can get my work done.”
His smile made her legs weak. But he exited without a look back. A good thing, so he missed her panting after him like a horny dog with two dicks.
“Soon, Curls. Soon.”
Fuck! Maybe he didn’t miss that.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and wished, not for the first time this day, she’d worn her glasses instead of her contacts. Gripping the nape of her neck, she rolled her shoulders then walked to the kitchen to finish up the checklist.
Nine minutes later, she entered her office downstairs and found Hastings and Paul talking to each other. Bradford and Livingston listened but weren’t speaking. All four men glanced at her when she made her appearance.
“I’ll be ready in a moment. Need to take my contacts out.”
She swiped her pack and strode to the bathroom in the rear of the converted apartment. It didn’t take her long to put her contacts back in her bag. She splashed water on her face and patted it dry. As she stared at her reflection, she slid on her blue-gray stainless steel half-rim glasses.
Quickly applying her pink grapefruit lip balm, she shouldered her bag then exited the bathroom. “Ready.”
Paul stepped closer only to stop and move away at the low rumble that filled the room. “I’ll finish getting the intake forms ready for tomorrow. Hopefully we’ll be able to get this next batch of residents’ first day taken care of smoothly.”
She gripped the strap on her bag tighter and nodded. “I appreciate it. I’ll swing back by once we visit Evan and finish up. Don’t stay very late.”
“I’m here tonight,” Paul said. “You’re sleeping in the hotel. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Are you trying to manage me?”
Bradford cleared his throat and slid into view, his grin one in which she could instantly see the attractiveness that seemed to run rampant in the Rhodes genes. Rugged features, scruff on his jaw, incredibly vibrant eyes and a body that was godlike. All the brothers were like that.
“I’m to blame. I asked him to hold things down here tonight so we could spend the evening together, the four of us.” Bradford gave her a smile and she saw what Iris saw in him, as well as hints of the good-natured playboy he’d been before her sister had taken his heart.
“Iris is worried then.”
He shrugged without shame. “You know your sister.”
Yeah, she did.
Hastings moved into her line of sight, and, without hesitating, she used her middle finger to slide her glasses up. “Let’s go then,” she said with a smile to Bradford. “I can’t wait to catch up.”
* * * *
Violet’s eyes burned and tears ran down her cheeks. “Damn it, Livingston. Stop making me snort whiskey out my nose. You’re supposed to be the serious one.”
He rocked back in his chair, a smug, arrogant look on his face. “I was being serious.” His gray eyes twinkled with amusement.
She took the wad of napkins from Bradford and wiped her face. Honestly, she’d not thought this would work well for her tonight, spending time with the Rhodes men. All three powerful, wealthy and sexy as hell. Two were brothers-in-law and the third, well, she would be better served not to think about him. At all.
Definitely not how he looked sitting there all sexy and broody across the table. Not how his long, shaggy hair framed his chiseled features. And absolutely not in the slightest on how his graphite gaze burned into her like he took personal offense to her wearing clothing.
“How’s Evan?” Livingston turned to Hastings.
She slanted her eyes to Hastings. The man’s jaw clenched beneath his beard before he lifted one shoulder as if he didn’t have a care in the fucking world.
“Same. The doctor said there’s no change.” He tipped his chin in her direction. “Unless he told you something different when I stepped out.”
Violet shook her head. “He didn’t say a thing to me. Finished looking at the chart and left.” She set the balled-up napkins by her water cup and hesitated to pick up the whiskey glass once more. She loved the drink but the burning, well, that wasn’t pleasant.