Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
“Who says I’ll want to find you?” My voice cracks on that lie as I tilt my head back to meet his gaze with a challenging one. Something tells me I’ll be hoping it’s you every time the door swings open at the Sea Witch.
A muscle in his jaw ticks. It’s the first hint that Ronan might be anything but lackadaisical.
If I thought the tension was thick before, now I’m about to choke on it. He might have been handpicked by the devil himself to help run this hotel, but right now, I’ve never felt such a strong urge to kiss a man.
His hand with the card hangs in the air, waiting.
Finally, I collect it, our fingertips grazing in the process, my skin acutely aware of his touch and how it lingers a few beats before pulling away.
“If that’s all I can help you with today …”
It’s a taunt, but he’s not going to make the first move.
A rare burst of impulsiveness hits me.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I lift onto my toes to meet that perfect mouth head-on.
For one … two … three beats, we’re pressed together in a slow, tentative connection.
And then he pulls away abruptly. “I didn’t mean … Let’s keep this professional.”
“Of course it’s professional.” I snap as my cheeks burn with embarrassment.
The glass door behind me cracks open with his push. “Go left out here and make another right at the end of the hall. Halfway down there’s an exit that will put you on a path to the parking lot. You’ll avoid any more uncomfortable run-ins.”
More uncomfortable than this? Spinning on my heels, I speed down the hall, mortified over my temporary lapse in judgment.
41. Ronan
Sloane storms away without a glance back, as if she can’t get away from me fast enough.
I bite my tongue against the urge to recall her to explain myself while I watch her tight ass in those sexy white pants until she disappears around the corner.
What a bold woman, showing up to Wolf the way she did.
I duck back into my office and shut my door, my body vibrating with a raw need I haven’t felt in forever.
“Fuck me.” My second day as a director and I was this close to testing the desk’s weight capacity. I hadn’t meant it to go that way, but then she asked if there was something else I wanted from her, and all blood flow left my brain, heading south.
Yeah, I wanted something, all right. I quickly assessed how frosted that glass is, if the lock on the handle works, how long it would take us to get our clothes off, how the sound of her coming might carry down the hall.
And she certainly wasn’t helping matters, what with those gorgeous eyes raking over me countless times.
But she came to Wolf in the first place because she’s desperate. I would have to be a grade A prick to take advantage of that.
Did I send mixed signals? Yeah, probably. But I didn’t expect her to kiss me. She’s hard to read, but I can tell she isn’t the kind of girl to kiss random men. She’s also not the kind who will slide her number into a guy’s pocket and hike up her dress for him later that night. She’s older than me—I’m not sure by how much but definitely a few years. And she was engaged, which means she’s the settle-down type.
She’s also the one woman who will one hundred percent cost me this job if Belinda makes good on her threats, and I believe she will. As reluctant as I may have been to accept it, now that it’s mine, the idea of failing bothers me. So, the last thing I need to do is start something up with Sloane.
Or any woman, for that matter.
I need fewer women in my life, not more.
On a positive note, I haven’t been this hard for a woman since … well, Abbi. I also haven’t kissed a woman on the mouth since Abbi. I run my tongue along my lips now, still tasting the coconut oil of Sloane’s lip balm. She smelled incredible too, a tropical scent that made my pulse spike. She has no idea how difficult it was for me to hit the brakes.
But I’m not helping her so I can fuck her. I’m not even helping her because it solves the problem of what to do about those signs.
Why am I so intent on helping the crazy rooster commune lady?
I guess because it’s the right thing to do; I know that in my gut. Plus, she’s aggravating Henry, and that doesn’t bode well for her.
A knock sounds on the door.
“What?” My annoyance bleeds through my voice.
“Sir … um … Ronan?” Archie calls out. “Belinda’s asking about you. Should I tell her you’re in your office—”