Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
“Martini, dry,” I murmur.
“Very good,” he says and flaps away.
I swivel my eyes back to the man opposite me. I have to suppress a shiver. His eyes are a cold, strange mixture of gold and bluish green. Like a wolf’s. Wild and dangerous. He watches me expressionlessly. Being so close to him is like coming close to a power generator. I feel the hairs on my body stand with warning.
He puts his glass down on the table. “Hello, Raine.”
The way he says my name has a bizarre effect on me. And shockingly not the effect I could have ever Imagined. It makes me want to grind my pussy against his mouth. Jesus, what the fuck is the matter with me? I avert my gaze away from him. “This restaurant is nice.”
“Yes,” he agrees.
I bring my gaze back to him. “So… here we are.”
His mouth twists. “Here we are.”
I bite my lower lip. Is he deliberately making this awkward? “Do you come here often?”
Now I clearly see the sarcastic amusement in his eyes. “No.”
“Look, this is supposed to be a date. You’re required to give more than one word answers.”
“I’m Russian. We can’t help it. We’re stoic.”
“Why don’t you pretend I’m a billionaire and I have something you want to buy?”
The most interesting thing happens. His eyes flash and become almost liquid yellow. Wow! Fascinated, I stare at him intently.
“I’ve never met a billionaire who looks like you and has something I want to buy,” he drawls.
I shrug, as if flirting with Russian billionaires is something I do all the time. “Then pretend I’m fat and middle-aged and grey-haired.”
He laughs. A deep, sexy sound that touches me somewhere deep in my soul. How totally, utterly, complexly surprising. I try not to react.
“That Raine Fillander would be very, very difficult.”
“Why?”
“Do you want the truth or the PC version of the truth?”
“Give me the PC version?”
“You have the face of an angel and the body of a stripper.”
“That’s the PC version? Do I dare ask for the truth?”
He doesn’t smile. “You have a mouth made for blowjobs and a body ripe for fucking.”
I feel the heat rush to my cheeks. Thank God, my martini arrives and I can busy myself with thanking the waiter and taking a sip. I swallow. “Did you have a good day?”
“Yes. You?”
I put my glass down. “My day was weird. Thanks to your little PR stunt I’ve become a sort of celebrity. People keep recognizing me on the street.”
He looks surprised. “That’s unappealing?”
“Should I find that appealing?”
He shrugs. “I got the impression everybody wants to be famous these days no matter what for.”
I don’t for sure, but I have other things I want clarified. “Other than the blowjob mouth and fuckable body, why did you pick me?”
His eyes never leave me and his voice is flat. “Because except for you every one of the other girls looked directly at me. I’m curious why they were all looking and you weren’t.”
An icy finger drags down my spine and I try not to shiver as I pretend to shrug carelessly and tell the first of what will probably be a whole bunch of lies. “One of the girls mentioned you. Said she fancied you, which made the other girls interested. They googled you.” Then to stop any further discussion on this subject, I quickly raise my glass and say, “Here’s hoping your million is put to good use.”
He doesn’t raise his glass. “It already has.” His voice is quiet, his eyes expressionless as they watch me.
I take a sip and taste nothing. A waitress brings a small tray of four little appetizers. They look beautiful. I stare at them as she rattles off the spiel she has been told by the Chef. I pick the words glazed, tomato jelly, wild salmon, but everything else is a blur. She moves away. I feel as if I should go out, come back in, and start all over again. Somewhere along, I lost my way. He seems so unreachable, so foreign, so totally outside the kinds of men I usually deal with. How on earth can I make him invite me back to his house? I watch his hand, square and manly reach out. He picks up the ceramic spoon with the small bit of food loaded onto it. I follow his hand as it moves upwards. His mouth opens and the spoon slips into it.
He is hot. Really, really hot.
I swallow hard. I am completely out of my depth here. He is like nothing I have ever encountered before. Even though I dislike what he stands for, I can feel my body responding to him. Which is weird and uncomfortable. I don’t want to want him.
But…
Madison needs the money. Somehow, somehow, I have to find a way to get to him, to get beneath this impenetrable wall around him. I know he thinks I’m sexy, I just have to play up on that. I lick my bottom lip and I watch his gaze follow the movement of my tongue.