Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 126564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
He knew it was a lie.
Not good.
Not good at all.
Let me rephrase—very good. Too good. The kind of good you want to bottle up and save for a rainy day.
There was a first time for everything. Apparently, this was my first time finger-fucking my ward.
I’d never messed with a client before. Prided myself in the cool and collected way I handled my assignments, even when some of the most gorgeous, glamorous women on earth fell at my feet, begging for a joy ride.
In the end, the one who managed to get her way was the unassuming Hallie Thorne.
She was pretty enough, but nowhere near as eye-catching as many other women who’d tried—and failed—to lure me into temptation.
What made Brat ruthlessly alluring was her hostile individuality. Like a cornered, rabid animal, she fought, even without teeth and claws. She didn’t give up on herself, even if, in her own eyes, she was unworthy.
It was that fine line between her defenselessness and slyness that did it for me. She was a contradiction. A tender-souled belle who didn’t mind walking all over Max’s future with her pointy stilettos just to make a point. An exiled Eve. A weird, mixed-breed creature.
Someone like me.
Which reminded me. I wasn’t going to sack Max.
Poor asshat was a pawn in our screwed-up game. But I was going to make him sweat buckets and ensure Hallie Thorne was off-limits for him.
As for playing with America’s former First Daughter’s pussy juices, well, that was a one-off. I was fairly certain Brat wouldn’t rat us out to her parents. Admitting she got frisky with the help would serve as more ammo against her, and they already had plenty to work with.
The next morning, I woke up knowing I had to avoid her until I got my mind straight and my cock under control. Next time I saw her, I had to sit her down and explain there would be no more nothings between us.
I grabbed my phone from my nightstand. The screen flashed with Tom’s name.
Not in this lifetime.
Not that any part of me considered confiding in him about my transgressions last night. But Tom was usually the bearer of bad news, and I needed two cups of coffee before dealing with his ass.
I rejected the call, sat upright, and phoned Max. He answered before the dial tone started.
“Boss!” he greeted anxiously. “Listen, I haven’t slept all night. I just wanted to say—”
“I don’t give a crap about what you want to say.” I jammed my feet into my slippers, sauntering to the closet. “Only reason your ass is not sacked and you’re not on an economy flight back to Los Angeles right now is because we’re overworked and understaffed. You are not to touch the ward again, Maxwell.”
“I know, I know.” His voice reeked of desperation. I wondered how high on the psychopath scale I’d score. I did not even feel remotely hypocritical for this transgression. “I never meant for the lines to blur this way. I was just…I mean, she was just…”
“A bag of issues and pert tits.” I flung the closet open, choosing dark gray slacks and a pale blue dress shirt. “Even if she wasn’t hot, it still wouldn’t be okay to fondle her.”
“Absolutely. You have my word. Never again.” There was a pause. “I understand if you want to reassign me.”
Reassigning him would be the right thing to do. But that would show Hallie that I gave a shit, that I was jealous, and that was false advertising.
“You’ll take the day shift with her today,” I announced, knowing damn well that Brat was going to be devastated to see Max on her case after last night. This would be the ultimate rejection. “I have business to attend to.”
“In Dallas?” He sounded surprised. “Okay. You can trust me, boss. I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t.” I slipped a cufflink through the inside of the cuff. “Because I’ll kill you if you do.”
As soon as Max showed up at the suite, I slipped outside. Hallie was still asleep. I took the Bugatti and drove out to Plano, a sleepy Dallas suburb where people traded their souls for kidney-shaped pools.
The Bugatti was a spur-of-the-moment rental. A reminder that Hallie Thorne hadn’t dug deep into my skin. All of her environmental work and mumbo-jumbo about global warming did my head in. I needed to remind myself that I liked fast cars, meat, and private jets.
I parked in front of a gray-stoned McMansion overlooking a golf course and a lake. Carefully trimmed shrubs and a white picket fence surrounded the property, and baby toys littered the front lawn. The whole damn nine yards.
“You son of a gun, Law.” I shook my head, rounding the Bugatti and knocking on the door. A young woman with bloodshot eyes flung the door open, holding a mostly naked baby with rolls where his elbows and knees should be.