Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
“Are you lost?” She raises one dark blond brow.
“No more than everyone else.” I settle one butt cheek on the edge of her desk, mostly for show because I’m afraid my full weight would topple the little glass table.
“Oh, is this a philosophical discussion then?” Her full lips bend almost undetectably.
“If you’d like, I’m down for that.”
“Men don’t usually want to have philosophical discussions with me.”
“I bet they’re missing out.”
“No, they’re not.” She uncrosses one leg, scoots them both under the desk, and rests her chin on folded hands. “What can I do for you, Mr. Bishop?”
“First, you can call me Trevor, or just Bishop.” I give her a grin. “All my friends do.”
She doesn’t bounce a grin back to me.
“How nice for your friends. And you’re here because?”
“I was wondering if you’re coming to the rooftop party tonight.”
She tilts her head, giving me an unblinking stare.
“And that matters to you why?”
“I’m leaving for Cambodia tomorrow, and I wanted to see you again.”
A small frown knits her eyebrows together, and her lashes drop to hide her eyes.
“I thought you and Harold were staying in New York for a while.”
“We are when we come back, but have some business there first.” I reach out to lift her chin, forcing her to look at me again. “So will you be there tonight?”
She turns her head, subtly freeing herself from my grasp.
“You know I’m dating Rip.” She lifts her lashes, giving me the full impact of those green eyes. “Are you in the habit of pursuing another man’s girl?”
“No, I have a definite rule about that. I never go after another guy’s girl.” I shake my head. “This isn’t pursuit. This is early level mild interest.”
“This is early level mild interest?” She leans forward a little, extending her neck for the question. “Following me to the bathroom? Staring at me rudely in elevators? Asking me probing questions in front of strangers? Tracking down my office and arriving unannounced? I’d hate to see pursuit.”
“I actually think you’d like to see pursuit, but we won’t know until you kick the quarterback. When’s that happening, by the way?”
“I told you he’s still fucking me out of my mind. Why stop now?”
She watches my face closely for the response she wanted from her words. Little does she know it’s not my face that’s responding. Every time she says the word “fuck” my dick goes hard as granite, even though she’s talking about it with someone else.
“I think the only way a guy like Rip can hold on to a woman like you is to keep her fucked out of her mind, so that’s probably his best strategy. If you stop fucking him long enough to come to your senses, I’d like to take you to dinner.”
“Dinner?” Her laugh is like cream, rich and decadent. “Why don’t you say what you really want?”
“I just did. I always do.”
“Well, it’s a moot point since I’m with Rip and you’re off to Cambodia and I doubt we’ll cross paths again.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Will you be at the rooftop party tonight or not?”
Her smile fades to nothing and she blinks several times.
“I’ll be there with my boyfriend.”
“I’ll respect that, of course.” I straighten from the little glass structure I almost crushed. “But once he’s out of the picture, which we both know he will be soon, all bets are off, and I’m formally warning you that we go from early level mild interest to full-on pursuit.”
“You can pursue all you want, but that doesn’t mean you’ll succeed.”
“That’s like pouring gasoline on a kitchen fire with somebody like me. My high school guidance counselor told me that about going to Princeton, but I got in on a football scholarship. My own parents warned me about leaving college to start Deutimus, and it’s turned out pretty well for me.”
“Is that what I am to you, then?” She looks at me unsmilingly. “A challenge? Something to be achieved?”
“I think you’re a woman who hasn’t even begun to show the world who she is.” I consider her for an extra second. “I think in some ways that’s something you’re still trying to figure out yourself, and people engaged in that process fascinate me.”
“I think the world and I both already know who I am.” The look she gives me is supposed to be a dismissal, but I’m too much of a stubborn goat to read it as one. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
So I’ll see her once more before we fly out tomorrow. Another chance to chip away at that sparkling armor. I walk back toward the door, pausing by the garment rack. My imagination puts her in the dark brown minidress, and I practically drool.
“I like the brown dress, by the way.”
I shouldn’t have said it. She’ll wear something else just to spite me. That’s okay, though. With this woman, even spite is an aphrodisiac.