Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
I’m saved, or perhaps it’s cursed when his phone rings.
“I’d ignore it, but I can’t.” He tosses me an apologetic grin. “My brother’s fiancée is about to have a baby.”
Again, I know that even though I shouldn’t.
Callie Morrow, the pregnant soon-to-be wife of Sean Wells, works at Wells too. I’ve shared the elevator with her in the past. I’ve seen the progression of her baby bump from barely noticeable to holy-heck-that-baby-is-due-any-day.
“Sean,” he answers the phone in a clipped tone with his gaze locked on my face.
I glance down to catch my breath.
“I’m headed home now,” he says. “I’ll stop by in the morning with brunch.”
I sneak a peek out of the window of the car. We’re less than two blocks from Declan’s building, so if one of us is going to make a move, it needs to happen soon.
A heavy exhale escapes him. “Take care of each other. Call me if Hailey decides tonight is the night. Try to get some sleep.”
The call ends, and with a chuckle, he rakes his hand through his hair. “We’re all anxious to meet Hailey. That’s the baby’s name.”
That’s one tidbit I didn’t know, but I welcome it. “That’s a sweet name.”
“It is.” He shifts slightly to glance out the front windshield. “We’re almost there, Abby.”
“Almost,” I whisper.
I run my fingertips over the thin black velvet choker on my neck. It’s tight. I swear it’s tighter now than when I fastened it in place before I left my apartment hours ago.
As the driver steers the car closer to the curb next to one of the most architecturally stunning buildings on Central Park West, Declan rests a hand on the seat between us. “Tell me something about you.”
“Something?” I drag that one word out. “Like what?”
“Like whether you’ve ever gone home with a man you just met.”
I haven’t, but there’s a first time for everything.
“No,” I answer honestly.
His gaze drops to my chest and the top of my breasts. “Have you considered it?”
Never, but then again, I’ve never been propositioned by a man like this before.
But, if I follow him up to what must be a luxury apartment, and we have sex, what happens when he inevitably spots me across the lobby of the building he works in?
Will I become the topic of the break room gossip? Will I be another notch in his expensive leather belt? Would that be a bad thing?
“I haven’t,” I answer truthfully.
The driver parks and is out of the car before I can say another word.
Declan inches his fingers closer to my thigh, and even though satin separates his skin from mine, something electric pulses through me when he brushes a fingertip against my leg.
The door swings open, casting Declan’s gaze in that direction. “A moment, Rygar.”
The driver steps back. I doubt it’s out of earshot, but given who he works for, I’d bet everything I own that he’s witnessed things in the backseat of this car that would make me blush.
“A part of you wants to come with me.” Declan’s voice is low and peppered with a rawness that I know I’ll never forget. “The other part views me as just another big bad wolf.”
I can’t hold in a smile. “Are you?”
“I’m not like other men.” His gaze sears through me. “You’re not like other women either.”
“You’re right. I’m not,” I say quickly, eagerly.
He tilts his chin up. “I can tell.”
A light laugh flows out of me. “You can?”
“Any woman who dresses like that to put a smile on the face of a four-year-old is exceptional.” His finger touches my outer thigh again before it falls back to the seat of the car. “Add to that the fact that you ventured out onto the streets of Manhattan after midnight dressed like this. You’re a brave woman, Abigail.”
That may be true, but something tells me it would take more courage to follow him to his apartment than it took to stand on the sidewalk in this outfit after dark.
“Declan!”
The sound of a woman’s voice turns his head toward the open car door.
I bow mine because this is not the fairytale ending for tonight that I was hoping for.
“Hey, Rygar,” the pretty blonde in a red jumpsuit greets the driver as she approaches the car. “How are you?”
The driver happily tells her he’s fine before he ducks to glance into the car. “Mr. Wells?”
Declan looks at me before he turns his attention to the woman. “I’ll be right there, Ava.”
She nods as if she understands that, for this one moment in time, his attention is directed to me.
“Abby,” he says my name softly. “It seems that my sister has decided that this is the optimum time to drop by to pick up something she forgot in my apartment months ago.”
The pretty woman bends to see into the car. “I told you at the gala I was going to stop by to get my composition book. There’s a piece in there I want to rework.”