Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
“One of my best friends.”
“From the hotel?”
“Married, kids, house.”
“Sounds disgusting.”
I lose my fight and smile, and it’s so fucking wide. “You’re calling me as well as following me now? How did you get my number?”
“From the forms you filled in for your spa day.”
“And how did you access those?”
“I know Anouska.”
I bet he does. I won’t ask how. “That’s confidential information.”
“I told her it was an emergency.”
“What’s the emergency?” I ask, sipping my wine.
“My painfully solid cock.”
I cough, waiting for him to laugh. He doesn’t. “Look—”
“Uh-oh,” he breathes. “I have a feeling I’m about to be put in my place.”
“I’m flattered, but I’m taking a time-out from men.”
“Why?”
“You don’t need details.”
“No, but I want them.”
Take the sex.
This is dangerous ground. “I’m on the breakup diet. It involves wine and work and nothing else.”
“Sounds utterly boring. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“You want to take me on an adventure?” I ask, not meaning to sound coy. But I do. I know I do.
“Oh, Amelia, I want to take you to many places.”
“Why?”
He’s silent for a moment, and I wonder what he’s thinking. What he’s going to say. “I’ve never experienced that instant chemistry people bang on about.” His voice has lowered, and so has my glass to my knee as I stare at the blank TV screen. “With you, I did.”
I bite my lip, intrigued. Way too intrigued. He’s a man of a certain type. And I’m not talking about his looks, although they’re otherworldly. I’m talking about the aura around him. It screams playboy, and his behaviour seals my conclusion. I’ve no doubt sex with him will be an experience I won’t forget. I’ll probably crave more. I’m already unhealthily addicted to his persistence.
And his hands.
“Have dinner with me,” he says quietly.
But I must stick to my guns. Be strong in the face of temptation. I have to make partner at the firm, not to prove anything to my dad or the company, but to prove to myself that I can do it. I have to stick to the plan, remain focused. I’d make a mockery of myself if I didn’t. He’s already blindsided me with a bit of dirty talk and hand sex. I can’t even begin to imagine how distracted he could make me if I let him. “I shall politely decline.”
“I won’t accept your polite decline.”
“Then I won’t be polite,” I say, standing. “Fuck off.”
He laughs, and the sound alone forces me to lower back to the couch. “If there’s one thing you should know about me, Amelia, it’s that I love a challenge.”
“I think the one thing I should know is your name.”
“Why, if you’re refusing to have dinner with me?”
“It feels a bit unfair, since you apparently know so much about me.”
“Like the fact you’re allergic to nuts?”
“You really did read all the details on that form, didn’t you?” I ask, trying to recall everything that was asked and answered.
“I particularly liked the response to the pregnancy question.”
I cringe, my nose scrunching. What did I write?
“Not on your fucking Nelly,” he says. I can hear the smile in his words. “Does that explain why you’re so stiff?”
Stiff. I’m getting drawn in, and I don’t want in. I want partnership. “Perhaps go find someone loose,” I say, hanging up.
And, weirdly, it doesn’t feel good. Not because I’m giving him the cold shoulder, but because I’m denying myself what I know could be a really fucking amazing experience. But I’m wary, and I have a feeling I should be. I stare down at my blank screen, biting at my lip.
It’s done.
I stand up, fill my lungs, and go back to the kitchen. The girls both look up. I shake my head.
Abbie sighs.
Charley smiles softly.
Chapter 9
The next morning, after sweating my arse off at the gym, hoping to run off the tension and chase my wandering thoughts away, I walk through the automatic doors of M&S and grab a basket, calling Abbie as I meander down the fresh fruit aisle. “I’m in M&S,” I say when she answers, reaching for a pack of sliced mango pieces and popping them in my basket. “What do you fancy for dinner?”
“You choose.”
“Busy?”
“Run off my feet. Have we rewound a month back to February? I feel like every man in the land has stopped by to pick up flowers for the woman in their life, and it’s not even ten o’clock. Or is it a full moon or something?”
I laugh and pluck a bottle of wine out of the fridge. “What, like it’s sending women everywhere crazy, and the men think it’s their fault?”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll get chicken.” I pluck a tray of breasts out of the fridge. “Make kievs. Sound good?”
“Oh, and those yummy potato things drenched in cheese. And, come to think of it, get more cheese. I’m in a cheesy mood.”
I smile and head for the dairy aisle, loading my basket with various cheeses. “This will make the gym totally pointless this morning.”