Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“I meant what I said earlier,” he tentatively circles back to the conversation we had inside the café. “Rook Thorsen is feeling something for you. If you feel anything at all for him, see where it goes. What’s the worst that can happen?”
I’ll end up with a shattered heart.
I don’t say that to Telford because he’ll try to convince me that the risk is worth the reward, but I’m not sure it is, and there’s nothing anyone can say to change my mind.
I laugh as I reread the text message Rook sent to me just as I was getting into bed.
Rook: Give it to me straight, Carrie. Does that mural give you nightmares?
I turn toward the nightstand, so the light emanating from the lamp on it floods my phone’s screen.
I type out a response and hit send.
Carrie: Only sweet daydreams.
His reply is almost instant.
Rook: Do I ever show up in those daydreams?
Only all of them.
I resist typing that into the screen of my phone. Instead, I go for something less ‘I have a massive crush on you’ and more ‘I want you to fuck me again.’
I laugh aloud at how much my life has changed in just a few short weeks. My plan to wait to have sex with a virtual stranger on my thirtieth birthday has transformed into me craving a man I initially met months ago.
I take a breath before I send my reply to him.
Carrie: What do you think?
The message he sends me back sends a full blush up my cheeks. I feel my face heat and my body, too.
Rook: I think you daydream about my mouth on your pussy, and my cock buried deep inside you.
“All the time,” I whisper aloud, knowing no one can hear me.
Before I can come up with something to send in response to that, he’s sent me another message, promising a time when I can enjoy both of the things he just mentioned.
Rook: Let’s meet up after work on Monday. Say around 7? A little pre-dinner fuck, some room service, and then you’ll be my dessert again.
I don’t care if I seem eager as I send confirmation back to him.
Carrie: I’ll be there.
I smile when I see his last message of the night pop up on my screen.
Rook: There will be a keycard waiting for you with the concierge. If you get there before me, feel free to get as naked as you want. Goodnight.
I place my phone on the nightstand, shut off the lamp, and close my eyes. “I can’t wait until Monday night.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Rook
Dalton Allard is playing hard to get, and I don’t appreciate the chase. I’ll succumb to it, but Jesus, I’m not a fan of kissing his ass.
He showed up to the ballpark in a bespoke three-piece suit with an attitude to match.
Claiming he was unfriendly with my staff would be a lie, but he wasn’t giving us an inch. I’m well aware of the fact that he has options when it comes to legal representation, but I’m the best in the state.
I’ve handled billion dollar mergers, and hostile takeovers. Hell, I’ve stepped foot in the middle of a family war over a company that clearly neither owner wanted any of their kids to get their hands on.
Yet, Mr. Allard wouldn’t sign on the dotted line last night.
He wanted slight changes to the contract. I appreciate the art of negotiation, so I compromised. He’s still screwing me around, but I know in time, and with some concessions on my part, he’ll circle back to me with a pen in hand.
“What are you doing right now?”
My head pops up to see Maura standing in the open doorway of my office. Since my daughter is currently at school, I’m not surprised to see her alone, but I am shocked that she’s here.
In the five years I’ve employed her, she’s never entered this office building.
“Working.” I shoot her a smile. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for legal advice.”
In one swift movement, I’m on my feet, my suit jacket buttoned. “Did you kill someone?”
That sends her head back in laughter. “You think I’m capable of murder?”
I nod. “I do.”
Her laughter fades, but the smile remains on her face, lighting up her blue eyes from the inside out. “That’s quite the assumption. You do remember you’ve entrusted me to take care of your only child, right?”
“I hired you because I know you’ll protect Kirby at all costs.” I push the sides of my fists together and mime breaking something in two.
She understands what I’m insinuating. Maura is nearing seventy, but she’s in better shape than many women half her age. She has martial arts training, among many other attributes that warrant her very healthy salary.
I brush past her to shut my office door. “Sit.”
She sits in one of the visitor chairs that face my desk. After crossing her legs, she plucks a piece of white lint from her dark blue pants.