The Dancer Read online Jordan Silver

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Billionaire, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 150002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 750(@200wpm)___ 600(@250wpm)___ 500(@300wpm)
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“I should go. Thanks for the food.” She got up, taking the tray with the empty dishes in her hands. What should I do? Fuck! “Sit down!” We were both shocked by my words, me more than her.

She gave me another one of her glares and remained standing. Stubborn little twit!

I quirked my brow at her when she didn’t hurry to obey me, but it didn’t seem to have any affect that I could see. That’s something else I’m going to have to get used to. Everyone usually rushes to do my bidding.

I don’t know how long our stare off lasted, but I’m damned if I’m about to lose this shit. “Do you need help finding your ass in that chair?”

“Do you need help rearranging that pretty face of yours?” I would’ve laughed if she wasn’t dead serious.

I started to rise from my seat and she held up the tray defensively and thrust out her chin. I felt the blood heat beneath my skin with excitement as I watched her, so defiant, even though I was sure she knew she couldn’t win.

She hadn’t taken off her coat so I still had no idea what she looked like under the man sized garment that swallowed her tiny frame, but at least her cheeks looked a little healthier after the meal.

My eyes lingered on her face and I felt that jolt to my system yet again as I really studied her for the first time. She had wide set green eyes that tilted up at the corners, green pools of light that seemed to beg me to dive right in. A pert little button nose and the cutest rounded cheekbones, like she hadn’t quite gotten rid of all her baby fat.

I wanted to touch her and again a strong sense of knowing hit me square in the gut. I had to clench my fists on my thighs to keep myself from crossing the line.

I’d already done way too much shit that was suspect in the short space of time we’d known each other, touching her now would be totally inappropriate.

It wasn’t just that strange need that was the problem though, it was also the fact that I had a serious problem with letting her go. Since the fuck when?

“How old are you?” It suddenly occurred to me that her tiny ass might be jailbait. I picked up the papers she’d filled out to check for myself and breathed a sigh of relief. She was just past nineteen; a baby, but legal. I calculated the age difference in my head and cursed myself for being an ass.

What the fuck did it matter how old she was? Where are you really going with this Max? You don’t even know her, have no idea who she is. Though that had never mattered much in the past.

I looked up at her, still standing defiantly and wondered where she got the gumption. She must not have heard about me, otherwise she wouldn’t have had the nerve to defy me, especially in my own place.

“I told you to sit.” I leaned back in my chair like it didn’t matter to me one way or another. The knock came then and once again it was the bar-back Paul who came in with a tray of dessert and coffee. He took in the scene and skirted around her.

He took the tray with the empty dishes from her after placing the new one on the desk without uttering a word, before leaving the room just as quietly as he entered.

She eyed the variety of cakes on the plate and actually licked her lips before looking back at me. “What are you trying to do?”

“I don’t follow.”

What was I supposed to say? I’m just as confused

as you chick so just sit your ass down until I figure this shit out?

“I’m pretty sure this isn’t how you treat all your would be employees.”

“How would you know?” I looked from her to the chair meaningfully and she got the hint and sat her miserable ass down.

I wasn’t sure if it was in obedience or just the lure of the sweets. I was leaning more towards the latter. Her hand shook slightly when she lifted the cup of steaming hot coffee to her lips.

“Stop staring.” She put the cup down and folded her arms. Was glare the only look she knew?

“I’m not.” Busted. I pretended interest in the screen again before reaching for my own cup.

“So, tell me about yourself Annabelle.” I like her name. It has that old world feel to it, like mom’s, Sophia. In fact it seems there was quite a bit about her that reminds me of mom.

“There isn’t much to tell. I just moved here for school, I’m looking for a job. The end.” She’s a tough one alright. Was that her lure? The reason I was fascinated by her?



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