Total pages in book: 224
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
Reid’s still behind his desk, on the phone. “Monday,” he says. “Ten AM. Be ready for all hell to break loose.” He pauses a beat. “Saturday night? Doubtful. In fact, no. Call me Sunday night.” He disconnects as I round the desk and hand him two Excedrin. He pops them in his mouth and I offer him the water.
He downs them and I pull open his top drawer and stick about ten more inside. “I didn’t bring the bottle. I thought that would be obvious.”
His hands come down on my hips and pull me to him. “Thank you.”
“Did you, Reid Maxwell, just say thank you?”
“Yes,” he says looking up at me. “Apparently, for you, I’m capable of manners and apologies.”
“And crassness.”
“That you like,” he counters.
I don’t deny or confirm this statement but rather reach for one of his hands. “Come and lie down.” I tug on his hand.
“Believe it or not, I’m not going to argue.”
He stands up and his hands come down on my shoulders, his head resting against mine for a moment that I’m pretty sure is about pain, not me. “Come on,” I urge again, walking backward and holding onto him, taking him with me.
I manage to get him moving and he sits down on the couch, but he doesn’t lie down. “There will be a press conference for the settlement on Monday. It’s going to bring a media craze. They’ll hunt me down here. We’ll need extra security. I would say I’ll stay away for a few days, but until they explore every piece of my life, the press won’t go away.” He lies down. “They suck.” He says those words bitterly and shuts his eyes.
I sit down on the stone table right next to him. “We’ll handle it. I’ll alert the appropriate people.”
He looks over at me. “I’ll be accused of being a press whore, trying to sweeten my sins. My father and my ‘uncle’ who isn’t really a fucking uncle dragged the company into an insider trading mess a few years back. It haunts me.”
“I read about that, but clearly you’re well-respected.”
“It still comes up. Often. I get past it, but it infuriates me to have to explain myself. That’s why I was even at that bachelors’ auction. It keeps coming up and my sister felt she could work magic and rework our reputation.”
“Why did you take this case?”
“Not for the press.”
“Why?” I push.
“Because I could win.”
He’s not giving me what I want. I rephrase. “Why’d you forgive your fees?”
“The same reason my client, Cole Brooks, isn’t taking the money. Because we don’t need the money and the victims do. And before you ask me if I did it for our reputation, no. I did not. It’s just going to drag out the press again and that always drags up the past.”
Now he’s given me what I was looking for. “Then you did a good thing, for the right reasons. That’s all that matters.”
He pulls me down next to him. “You’re the good thing.” And with a quick shift, I’m underneath him and he’s pinning me in a blue-eyed stare. “Too good for me.”
“Does that tie into my destiny to hate you?”
“Yes. It does.”
“Why am I going to hate you, Reid?”
“You ask too many questions.” Before I can stop him, he’s kissing me, a drugging, almost brutal kiss, his hands sliding up my sides to cup my breasts. “Reid,” I hiss, covering his hand with mine. “Not here.”
“We fucked on the desk, baby. Lighten up. What’s different?”
There is something about how he says this that hits ten nerves. He makes it sound so dirty and this time it bothers me. It feels like he’s trying to make me feel like I’m some sort of call girl. “I need up.” I shove at his chest. “Take your nap.”
He raises up just enough to search my face. “What just happened?”
“Let me up, Reid.”
“No,” he says, as his phone starts to ring. “I’m not letting you up.”
“Answer your phone.”
“What just happened?” he repeats, ignoring the call.
“I don’t want to do this. I need up and I need to go to my office. And I don’t like you trapping me like this.”
He rolls us to our sides, but his leg cages mine. “Talk to me.”
“Now you want to talk?”
“Yes. I do. I’m not letting you up until you tell me what just happened.”
“It’s like I challenged you to make me hate you so you have to prove yourself right. I can’t do this. I can’t feel—this.”
“Don’t say that. Whatever I just made you feel, whatever ‘this’ is, I didn’t mean to make you feel it.”
“Says the man who wants me to hate him.”
“I don’t. I don’t want you to hate me. I don’t want you to push me away.”
“You’re the one pushing.”
“I’m going to say this again because I want you to know I mean it. Whatever I just made you feel, I don’t want to make you feel that ever again.”