Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
I swallowed thickly. Bras and underwear, in varying degrees of sexiness from full coverage to thong.
My pettiness reared its ugly head, so I picked the two sexiest, most expensive bra and panty sets in her selection. Shawn would foot the bill, and maybe it’d get under his skin that he’d never see me in them.
“Excellent choice,” she said, giving me an assuming, sly smile.
After Brigitta left, I slept again and finally purged the rest of the hangover and jetlag from my system. I dressed in the new clothes, feeling a hundred times better—and a million times worse. I couldn’t call anyone. I couldn’t work. I couldn’t even leave this room.
All I could do was wait for him in the hotel suite he’d paid for, wearing clothes he’d bought.
The independent woman in me, reborn after my divorce, died a little.
There were a few magazines in the welcome basket but only one in English. Forbes, from early last year. I was halfway done flipping through it when I saw a familiar face. Shawn posed at a large oak bar, an open bottle of Osterhägen beside him. The number eleven was to the side of his photo.
All the air cleared from my lungs in an instant.
It was the Forbes annual list of the top twelve most eligible bachelors. Not millionaires, but billionaires.
He didn’t have a difficult time finding women. He had money, looks, and power. In spite of all that, he pursued me, even when I treated him like the enemy.
Well, now he’d had me. What was the point in sticking around? He could have left last night and let Jason clean up the mess he’d made. The mess I was. Why come back?
There was a short knock, the door opened before I could answer, and Shawn breezed in, his tie loosened at the neck. My heart lurched at the sight of him and I cursed myself. He didn’t notice the magazine in my hands, and I dropped it like it was made of lead as I bolted upright.
His gaze started at my feet and rose to meet my eyes. “You look nice. Feeling better?”
I frowned.
“Sorry,” he said, “I forgot. You look like shit. Feeling better?”
My frown intensified. “Well, I’m no longer hungover, but don’t worry, I still feel like an idiot.”
A light, pleasant smile crossed his lips. “Why? I own breweries in thirty-two different countries. You think I’ve never seen someone overdo it?”
“I’m sure you have, but it’s embarrassing nonetheless.”
His eyes were warm and playful. Relaxed. Being back at his job had recharged him and brought him back on his game. I needed to be cautious.
“I want to ask a favor,” he said. It set off alarms in my head. “When this is all over, come work for Osterhägen.”
“What? No, I’m not going to do that.”
His expression was puzzled, like he expected me to leap at this opportunity. “Why not? You said you were amazing at what you do. I want amazing people on my team.”
“Shawn.”
“I’m sure the salary is higher in the alcohol-beverage industry. Are you happy at Incentive?”
No, not really, but . . . “This conversation is silly.”
“It’s not. At least let me set up an interview so you can see what you’re missing. More benefits and more opportunities.”
I put my hand on my forehead, rubbing out the wrinkle that developed there. It was hard to imagine the future, to see past tomorrow right now. But he had that same look from the lunch in New York, the one that said he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’d get his way.
“Okay, yeah, whatever. When this is all over, if you want to set it up, fine.”
“Promise me,” he commanded. When I didn’t respond, he added, “Please.”
This order, issued in typical Shawn fashion, annoyed me like it always did. “I said I’d do it.”
The victorious smile on his face was sobering, like I’d just made a deal with the devil. “So, you’re feeling better?”
“I’m fine, thank you. How are you?” My voice was heavy with sarcasm.
He didn’t reply.
“What?” His silence was unnerving. “What’s wrong?”
He seemed to be evaluating me. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please.”
“You think I’m lying?”
I said exactly what was on my mind. “I don’t know how it could be true.”
“It is.” He took a step toward me, so he was close enough he could reach out to touch me if he wanted. If I’d allow it. My resolve was softening with every moment I stood under his heavy gaze. Was he aware that he wielded an enormous amount of power over me?
“I don’t understand,” I said, my voice faltering. “You got what you wanted.”
“What makes you say that?”
I shot him a look. “We had sex.”
“Believe me, I remember.” He took another subtle step closer and his voice fell to a hush. “You think that’s all I wanted?”