Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 22067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
So impossibly long.
That it almost feels like an eternity has passed when the waves of pleasure washing over me finally start to fade.
And I slowly regain my senses.
And come face to face with the consequences of my decision.
Did I just...
Did he just...
Did we just...
And am I still holding him right now?
Seriously?
Adriano stiffens when I yank my hand out of his hold and jump off the desk. I can feel him staring at me as I grab my gown off the floor and dress myself in a hurry. I start grabbing my things, and when I reach for a phone, I see several messages from Hope waiting for me.
I know it's hard to say no, but sex will only complicate things.
She's, like, totally right, but it's also, like, totally too late.
"Shayla—"
He reaches for me as soon as I turn around, but when he sees me flinch—
His handsome face turns expressionless.
I'm sorry.
But because we've known each other far too long, I know I've hurt him.
I'm so, so sorry.
But all I can think of right now is how my own parents both told me how they used to love each other so, so passionately—
"Let's please pretend this never happened."
—until they just didn't.
And then I'm walking away without looking back.
Chapter Eight
ADRIANO
SEVEN MISSED CALLS. Twelve text messages. Three days of radio silence.
I stare at my phone, resisting the urge to throw it against the wall.
This isn't me, dammit.
I don't chase women, and I certainly don't obsess over whether they'll call me back.
So why have I been checking my phone every five minutes like some lovesick teenager?
Why the hell can't I stop thinking about her?
Shayla has become even more distant since that night in the boardroom. If she was stiff in my presence before, now she's downright unapproachable, with the way she hides behind her polite smiles and efficiency.
A knock on my office door breaks my train of thought. I should've known better than to hope it would be her—
"Mr. Kontides?"
But it's not. I should've known it wouldn't be her, so why the hell do I keep tormenting myself like some hopeless idiot?
"Today's brief is ready for your review, sir." Willa, one of the junior associates, is the newest one to unwittingly join this stupid game of pass-the-message that Shayla has been playing lately. "Also, Ms. Tolentino asked me to remind you about the charity auction tonight."
"Anything else?"
"She, um, also said to remind you that your tux came back from the cleaners and is hanging in the partners' lounge. That's pretty much it, sir."
Of course, that was it. Did I really think she'd pass a message that isn't work-related?
Enough of this.
I stand abruptly, decision made. If she won't come to me, I'll go to her.
Her desk is empty, her computer screen dark. Where—
"Looking for Shayla?"
What the—
Lissa White stands by the water cooler, designer briefcase in hand.
"Deposition prep, remember?" She clucks her tongue. "You normally don't miss things like this. Is something wrong?"
"You'd like that, won't you?"
"Naturally. But I also enjoy winning fair and square, so...if you're looking for your secretary, she mentioned stepping out for lunch." Lissa checks her watch. "Our meeting is set at one. You still have time to catch up to her. And just scratch that itch—"
"Don't." No one should speak about my secretary like that.
But this makes Lissa's face actually soften. "You took offense. Good."
And no one should look at me like the way Lissa's looking at me right now.
"It's not what you think," I snap.
Because whatever it is she's thinking, she's wrong.
"I haven't said a word."
Why are women so damn good at pointing out something that's completely not the point at all?
"If you want my advice—"
"I don't."
Lissa actually comes forward to give my arm a motherly pat. "Women like Shayla are rare. Treat her as such, and you can't lose. But if you take too much time making up your mind, someone smarter will swoop her off—"
"Don't you mean sweep?"
"That's for wimps," Lissa says scornfully, "and if Shayla had always been the type to be swept off her feet, don't you think someone else would have already stolen her away by now? It has to be someone more cunning, someone who understands when a demonstration of one's power and authority is called for—"
Is she complimenting or insulting me?
"That's the kind of man Shayla is certain to respect, and if you're so fortunate...willingly surrender to."
Well, hell.
Who would have thought the day would come when I'd actually concede in Lissa White having the winning argument?
Her words make uncomfortable sense, and it's more than enough to have me striding out of the building.
Because I know Shayla far better than she gives me credit for, and case in point?
Her absolute shock at finding me suddenly taking a seat in front of her, causing Shayla to drop the sandwich she's holding.
"You could catch a fly with that," I say gently.