Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 73663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“This is crazy.” I finish my final glass of wine, fingers tapping on table top like I’m drumming the rhythm of my anxiety. “I’m sorry, but no, I can’t do this.”
“Take the night to consider.” He leans closer, his voice pitched soft and low. I can already feel those lips on my skin. I shiver, wanting it badly. “Let me drive you home. Or, if you’re feeling adventurous, let me take you back to my place and show you how we’ll live together.”
I cross my legs and struggle against the whimper that wants to escape my lips. The thought of going back to his place—to getting a taste of what it might be like to be his wife—sounds far too tempting.
The man’s obscene in every sense, and I want him like I’ve never wanted before.
“I can’t do it,” I say.
“Why not? We both know you want to.”
“For one, you’re too forward and you’re making a lot of assumptions.”
“I see the way you look at me. You notice the way I look at you in return. We both know what’s happening here. Why pretend like it’s not?”
I turn my head, catching my breath. God, this place, it’s so beautiful, and the people eating at these tables are all rich and wealthy and connected. I don’t belong here—but Renzo’s offering to give me a way inside.
A place in a world that I’ve only ever imagined.
Money, power, maybe even safety.
But this is a world I don’t want.
“I’m sorry.” I’m almost whispering as I get to my feet. “Dinner was really nice, but I can’t do this. It’s just—it’s too much of a risk.”
And I don’t take chances.
I learned that the hard way. Nothing goes right when I roll the dice, and I’m sick of watching people get hurt for my own stupid, selfish needs.
“Let me take you home.” It isn’t a request, but a command.
Before I can argue, he’s guiding me out by the elbow. With only a nod at the hostess, I’m whisked into the crisp night air. His black town car is waiting at the curb as if it knew we’d be leaving soon. The driver rolls the privacy screen up as I get settled in my seat, the belt clicking into place.
Renzo hasn’t stopped looking at me this whole time.
“If you think giving me a ride in a nice car is going to change my mind—”
He shakes his head and puts his hand on my thigh. “I don’t care about that.”
“You don’t? Isn’t that the whole reason you invited me out?”
“Yes and no. If you agreed here on the spot, I’d be relieved. I’d have a plan. But this night isn’t a waste even if you do end up turning me down.”
“How’s that? You just enjoy my sparkling conversation?”
“I enjoy something about you.”
That hungry, ravenous look again. I chew on my lip, head a little spinny, brain fuzzy enough that my risk aversion’s softened into only a dull roar. Strong enough to keep me from marrying him—
But not strong enough to push away his touch.
“I knew you only wanted me for sex.”
“Not only, but I never said I didn’t want that too.”
A thrill runs between my legs. This man wants me—me, a girl recently dumped by her boring, nothing of a boyfriend, a girl who’s never reached past what she felt she deserved, a girl who’s always kept her head down and done the right thing—because the one time I did the wrong thing, someone got hurt—and now this gorgeous, dangerous, terrifying, sexually attractive man wants me, and I’m having trouble making all the dots connect.
Until he shifts closer and his hand brushes against my cheek.
There’s always another choice. Life never leaves only one path. There are other turns, other twists, and sometimes all the decisions are ugly and painful and bad, and sometimes all the decisions are equally good but very different, and it’s never easy to know the future ripples that any one action will cause.
I don’t have to kiss him.
It hasn’t happened yet. I can do something else—scream, maybe, punch him in the throat, throw open the door and roll out onto the highway or wherever we are—I don’t have to taste his lips, let his tongue roll against mine, feel the stubble on his cheeks brush against my smooth skin.
I don’t have to do this.
Nothing’s making me, except for him, and the way he’s looking at me right now, like I should make a mistake for once in my stupid, boring life. Isn’t that why Mark dumped me? Because I’m unable to get over what happened that day, unable to start taking risks again? Well, here I am, in this car with this man, full of wine and bad intentions, and wondering if maybe I’ll do something else outside of my character.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispers, his lips touching my cheek, my chin, moving closer to my lips. “Go ahead. Say it. I know that’s what you’re thinking. Do I want to kiss my boss? Do I want to know what it would feel like? Do I want to taste him, do I want to let things go too far, do I want to spend the night in this man’s bed? You’re wondering if this is going to make work difficult.”