Ethan (Billionaire’s Game #3) Read Online Samantha Whiskey

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: Billionaire's Game Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
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“Kinder,” I said, reaching out my hand in offering. “Alexandra Kinder.”

He stepped away, eying my hand like I pointed a gun at him. “No.”

I pressed my lips together, offering my most sympathetic smile. “Yes.”

“You’re…” He shook his head, glancing behind him at the coffee shop’s doors as if a camera crew would bust in and say this was all a big joke. “You’re Ms. Kinder?”

“You can still call me Alexandra,” I said. “Or Alex. Whatever you prefer.”

He huffed a laugh, his shoulders dropping a bit.

“I’m going to get you that coffee now,” I said, studying him with eyes trained for emotional reaction. I’d gotten so good at it I could usually spot an outburst—or a lie—before it happened. He wasn’t at risk of an outburst, but he looked like he might bolt at any second.

“Black,” he said, still stunned as he sat at the table I’d been sitting at when he walked in.

“Got it,” I said, and a few minutes later I handed him the steaming cup before taking my seat across from him.

“I really do need the extra time to read the file,” I said. “But if you want to call the company and have someone else assigned to you, I’ll totally understand.”

His eyes met mine, hesitation written all over his features. After a few seconds, his expression smoothed out in a practiced way that showed me he was more than used to schooling his reactions in front of people.

Interesting.

I’d note it later.

“My team said you were the best,” he said by way of answer. “Is that true?”

I shrugged. I wasn’t one to lie or sugar coat things, but I was humble. “I’m pretty good at what I do.”

“Don’t be modest, Alex,” he said. “I was told that there is no one with your particular talents in all of Charleston.”

The way he said my name had warm shivers dancing over my skin.

Stop it. I chided my body, trying like hell to tell it that Ethan was no longer available in that regard. He was a client. That’s all he could be…unless he wanted me in a different way and asked to be assigned to someone else. Then we might, possibly still—

“So, no,” he continued without me responding. “I’m fine with proceeding, if you are.”

He was fine with it?

Wow, I didn’t expect that to hit me so hard in the stomach, but okay.

It was only one kiss, after all. Maybe he’d been drunk and barely even remembered it. Maybe it hadn’t been as cosmic for him as it had been for me.

Fine, that was fair.

“All right,” I said. “Let me just read—”

“Could you not?” he asked, showing just a small fraction of vulnerability. “Read my file in front of me?”

“Sure,” I said, pocketing my phone and wrapping my fingers around my coffee cup. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have time to read it last night. I was—”

“Busy,” he said, his gray eyes churning with streaks of heat that made me shift in my chair.

I laughed, nodding. “Busy,” I said. “With your tongue in my mouth.”

Ethan spit the sip of coffee he’d just taken back into his cup, a nervous laugh tumbling from his lips. “Jesus,” he said.

I passed him a napkin. “Alex,” I clarified, which only made him laugh again.

He dabbed at his lips with the napkin, and damn it, I hated how my eyes lingered there, remembering exactly how he’d felt pressed up against me, his muscular thigh between my legs, pressing all of my buttons in exactly the right ways.

“You’re like this, even with clients?”

I raised my palms innocently. “Blunt honesty is the best way to build a foundation in any relationship,” I said. “Friendly, professional, or otherwise. It saves time.”

He nodded, studying me for a moment. “I’m gathering that’s what you care about most,” he said. “Time.”

“It’s a precious commodity,” I said. “More valuable than money.”

“To you.”

“Yes,” I said. “I’m well aware some people place money in higher regard. I don’t. Speaking of,” I said, glancing at my watch. “We’re officially on the clock.”

“Are we though?” he asked. “You haven’t even read my file.”

I pursed my lips. “That’s fair,” I said. “I was going to,” I continued. “Before you spotted me.”

“Ten minutes?” he fired back. “That’s all you need to analyze me?”

“God, no,” I answered. “I need way more time than that. We’ll need to fit me into your regular schedule,” I explained. “I’ll have to shadow you to learn your emotional triggers,” I said more sensitively. “It’s the only way I’ll be able to help create a plan and customize a tool box to help you.”

He blew out a breath, his eyes turning down toward his coffee. The move showed just a hint of shame. It was super common in people who struggled with anger issues, but they were harder on themselves than they should be.

“Wow,” he said, nodding more to himself than me. “All right,” he said. “Can we do one thing before we officially start? I mean, you still don’t know who I am.”



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