Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Ransom saved her. “Let’s see what your menus look like now.”
On safer ground, she led him along the hall to her office, where her computer was already running. She opened the first week’s menu. “Pull up that chair.”
He didn’t just sit beside her like a normal person. No, he eased in at an angle, his legs spread around her as he leaned in to see the screen. Surrounded by him, she felt heat rise in her all over again.
Concentrate, Ava. “We rotate menus every week for four weeks. So we require four weeks’ worth of meals. But I’ll understand if the time limitation means we have to give up the rotation for now.”
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he read each menu item carefully, his breath warm across her hair. Finally, when she thought she might be going a little crazy, he said, “The food looks pretty appetizing, if the names mean anything.”
She nodded. “The food wasn’t the problem. It’s the service that sucked.”
“I see you’ve got a special Sunday brunch.”
“Yes. People love it. They all dress up in their Sunday best.”
He touched the mouse to flip to the next menu, and his scent washed over her. Something indefinably him—more than aftershave, potently male. The scent that came to her in the night when she thought of him.
It set her nerve endings jangling. She even had to push her chair back, away from him, so she could breathe.
After going through all the menus, he sat back in the chair. “I can do four weeks. We need to give your people their same routine. I’ll get you some initial plans right away.”
It was more than she could have expected. “The sooner the better.”
The sooner he got it all done, the less she’d have to see him. Scent him. The less she’d close her eyes and envision him the way he’d been all those years ago. Naked. Ready.
If she didn’t stop herself, she’d have to turn on the air conditioning. Or tear off her sweater.
* * *
Ransom walked back to his flat, his hands shoved in his bomber jacket’s pockets. Late September could be lovely in the city, especially this year, but the air cooled down quickly at night.
He couldn’t get the scent of her out of his head. Not now. Not then. He’d never gotten her out of his head. She’d haunted his dreams, though he was only now seeing that.
He would get this done for her, even if it took all freaking night. Part of it was to make up for never reaching out to her after he’d returned from that business trip to Paris. For letting her slip away. For never explaining what he’d really meant by the offer he’d made.
There was all that, but there was also the compassion she had for her residents. He needed to help her.
Maybe he even wanted to impress her. The truth was, as he strolled from streetlight to streetlight, he wanted that badly.
Chapter Six
Ransom showed up in her office at nine the next morning. Ava hadn’t expected him to get through the entire meal plan overnight, and certainly not this early.
“Good morning.” Then she took in the state of him.
In all the years of seeing him on TV and in the press—not that she’d been searching him out—he’d never had a hair out of place, never looked anything less than immaculate. But today, a shadow of beard covered his chin, wrinkles creased his T-shirt, and his hair stuck out at all angles.
But God, he’d never looked better.
Despite herself, her breath caught in her chest. He was so real right now. Looking like hell and tired as all get-out, but still gorgeous.
“Did you even sleep?” He’d obviously been up all night working on her plans.
His answer was a mere grunt as he stalked to her desk, dropped a sheaf of papers in front of her, then turned and flopped down on the sofa, closing his eyes.
She suddenly regretted being such a hard-ass the day before. Because today, looking over the work he’d put in on her behalf moved her beyond measure. He’d created an incredible proposal. The menus made her mouth water, and his execution plans, right down to the staff he’d need and an incredibly reasonable budget, stunned her.
How had he accomplished this overnight?
But then, he’d always been amazing at whatever task he took on. Her catering needs were no different. She looked up, ready to give him the kudos he so deserved. “This is brilliant.”
He was asleep, completely out, slumped against a sofa pillow.
She had two choices. Like they did in the movies, she could grab a glass of water and throw it in his face to wake him up. Or she could put a blanket over him and let him sleep. She’d slept here many times when work consumed her.
A crushed piece of her heart obviously still lurked inside her, because part of her actually wanted to throw that glass of water on him. But she wasn’t that young woman anymore. She had to move past the pain he’d caused her, had to be bigger than throwing water in his face.