Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 43198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 216(@200wpm)___ 173(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 216(@200wpm)___ 173(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
I don’t say anything. I can’t. I knew he was watching me today, but I wasn’t prepared for this. I thought for sure I was imagining things and he was here for someone else.
He continues. “That’s why I want you to show me my pictures. When you looked at them through your camera, there was no response, no emotion. Did you not like the pictures of me?”
I let out a breath. That’s what this is? He’s an arrogant billionaire. Of course, he wants to make sure I captured that. But I won’t lie to him. “They’re fine.”
“Fine?”he asks, perplexed.
I shrug. “Yes. I mean, very dignified. Stoic.” I lift the camera, find the shots of him, and hold it up for him to see. “Screams billionaire.”
He briefly looks at the image and then back at me. “You don’t like them?”
I tilt my head at him. “It doesn’t matter if I like them. This is what you want to portray to the world, and I think it does you justice.”
He frowns, not liking my answer. I wait for him to berate me or to tell me it’s my fault he looks like a stuffy billionaire, but he surprises me when he says, “Go out with me.”
It’s not a question. It’s a demand, and I’m pretty sure most women would trip over their own feet for the opportunity. But not me. I know what a rich man like him is capable of, and I don’t want any part of it. “No, thank you.”
I go back to packing up my lenses.
He shoves his hands into his trouser pockets. “Can you tell me why you won’t go out with me?”
I blow out a breath and decide to be honest. “Because I don’t want to end up on the news tomorrow as your latest hookup, or whatever people are calling it these days.”
His whole body tenses. “I can’t control what people say about me. But how about if you want to know something about me, then you ask.”
I laugh. “Okay. fine. If I were to go to dinner with you tonight, what number would I be?”
He just stares at me.
I put a hand on my hip. “How many other women have you dated this month, Mr. Brody?”
His hand closes over mine, warm and possessive as it settles on my hip. He’s close enough that I can smell his aftershave, and it does dangerous things to me. I don’t know if it’s his touch or his scent, but my body is already responding to him in ways I can’t hide.
His voice is gruff. “I’ve had dinner with one woman this month.”
My lips purse, and I can feel that little line between my eyes form because I am totally annoyed.
His smile gets bigger. “The jealous type. I like that. But the woman I had dinner with was my little sister. She’s pregnant and was craving the Blaze apple cinnamon cake at Red’s Diner in Whiskey Run.”
Before I can say anything, he continues. “And just so you know, I’ve had two dates in the last five years, and that’s all they were. Dates. As in one date with each of them. Nothing came of it.”
My mind starts whirling with that new information. “So uh…” Don’t ask, Lindsey. Don’t you dare ask a question you may not want the answer to. “So uh, I guess you don’t take your one-night stands out to dinner then.”
His hand flexes over my hip, and he pulls me toward him. I go willingly, even though I know it’s a bad idea. His voice is low, like a whisper. “No booty calls. No one-night stands. No sex with a woman in five years, Lindsey.”
It’s like I forget how to breathe, the words coming from his mouth catching somewhere in my throat. I lean back to look at him, and the truth is right there in his eyes. The idea that this man could have anyone he wants yet has been alone only makes me more curious about him.
My throat is dry. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
He smiles as if I just challenged him or something. “I’m asking you to go to dinner with me.”
I huff out a breath. The way he’s looking at me makes me believe he wants more than just dinner, and my body responds like a hussy. My breasts are heavy, and my pussy is practically vibrating. I clear my throat. “You want to go to dinner with me knowing that this”—I gesture between the two of us—“will end after dinner. I’m not having sex with you.”
He just stares at me.
I nod. “Fine. I’ll go to dinner with you, on one condition.”
His hand slides around to my lower back, pulling me against him. I can feel all eyes on us, and insecurity sets in. I know most people are trying to figure out why Miller Brody would be touching me right now.