Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“We know each other quite well, don’t we?” Bradford’s eyes glint as he looks at the closed door, then slowly back at me. I’m melting into the chair in front of his desk, and my god, it isn’t comfortable. Bradford, on the other hand, doesn’t have a hair out of place. He’s always so insanely perfect.
Oh yes. You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about you swooping in and saving the day.
“Uhhh, yes, I’ve worked for you for a few years now.” The sensation of those eyes, almost catlike, glancing over my skin makes me shiver in a way that makes my nipples nearly slice through my bra, and warmth starts spreading through my numb legs.
Now I know why people call him the Lion of the Andersons. I always thought it was his golden mane of hair, perfectly golden skin, muscular frame, flawless, chiseled appearance, or all that power he has at his fingertips. But, nope, it’s definitely the eyes. I can feel my face starting to burn up along with the rest of me. My hair is done up in a tight twist, and I can feel the sweat not just under my blouse but prickling along my hairline as well, both above and below the twisted updo.
This man is so damn regal that even sitting down, he seems to tower over me. I don’t feel any better that we’re somewhat on a more even footing. We aren’t on even footing. He has the advantage in every way. He’s not normally intimidating, and I don’t think he’s trying to be now. I’ve never even heard him raise his voice before. Everyone always comments about what a nice person Bradford Anderson is.
God, it’s been silent in here for too long. Why isn’t he asking me a follow-up question? Those green eyes are piercing through me. They won’t leave me alone.
Get a grip. You’ve known this man for two years. He’s kind, harmless. Even sweet, on the right day. Sure, he has all the power and could crush Philadelphia with his feet, but he would never do that because he’s amazing, and he’s good. He’s not going to throttle you because you applied for a different position so you could better yourself. Not at all. Nope. His eyes are just regular intense. This is nothing new.
“I have a hair problem, it so happens.”
My jaw drops, but my ability to speak comes back to me rather quickly, thank goodness. “Umm, your hair?” This guy gets like thousand-dollar haircuts every other week. He’s perfectly shod. I mean shorn. I think? Right now, my brain is scrambled cheese. I mean eggs. “Your hair looks amazing, Mr. Anderson. It always does. If there’s an issue with your barber, I can find you a new one. And if there’s a scheduling thing, don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”
His eyes narrow, but then they crinkle at the corners, and his strong, masculine lips curl up in the signature Anderson smile that has the entire world eating out of whichever hand he deems fit. “Sorry, not hair. An air problem.”
“Oh, the air.” I point toward the ceiling, where the vents are. “I know. I’ve noticed that it’s been freezing in here. It's like people haven't noticed winter is coming. I’ll call someone to come look at the central air. I’ll tell them it’s glacial in here, and there must be something wrong with the setting.”
He clears his throat. His eyes scan over me like I’m an imbecile, but then that glint in them is gone, and he’s smiling again, and I probably imagined that annoyance I saw flash across his fine, godly face. The most beautiful face of all faces. Ugh, it’s simply unfair how stunning this man is. I never stood a chance. On day one of this job, I think I lost my mind to his hotness.
“No, Everleigh. Not my hair or the air. An heir. As in, a baby.”
Now I’m blanking. Everyone knows Bradford doesn’t date. That’s why he also made the top thirty under thirty eligible bachelor’s list this year for something like the sixth year in a row. “A—a—baby?” I couldn’t have heard that right.
He’s had a secret tryst. A lover’s thing that he didn’t tell anyone about. And now there’s a baby, and there’s going to be a wedding. It’s probably someone and something his rich ass family doesn’t approve of, but he’s going to marry her anyway, and it will be the wedding of the century, which will take him off the market forever, and oh god, the pain, the pain, the pain. I never thought I stood a chance, just for the record, but this still sucks. My white knight fantasies are dying a brutal death right now.
I’m treated to the full intensity of that green-eyed stare. “Yes, a baby. As it happens, I need one.”