Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Naturally he’d bring that up. The arrogant, contentious, audacious—okay, she wouldn’t call him an ass. She had to admit he wasn’t an ass at all. But he did know how to rub her the wrong way. She felt her hackles rise as if she were a tabby cat going into battle with a Maine coon. The man befuddled and bewitched her until she couldn’t list all the reasons, even though she’d gone over them for days.
There was only one thing to do. “You need to get out of my office.”
But then, because she was a businesswoman, and she couldn’t help herself, she added, “I’ll find you that boat if you’re still interested.”
She was hooked. No one got this mad if there wasn’t a grain of truth in what he’d said. And he didn’t even have to give away that Alice Fletcher had inspired this tactic. But the woman was right; that was exactly when Michaela had become militant and ordered him out—the moment he’d asked if she had something against billionaires.
He thought about closing the distance between them and taking control of the situation by kissing her. Would that melt her stubborn resolve? Did she want it as badly as he did?
But just as his question about billionaires sent her off the deep end, a kiss would shoot her straight into orbit. And not in a good way.
As much as he craved a taste of her, the timing was delicate. And this wasn’t the right time.
Before he turned and walked to the door, he said, “Oh yeah, I really want it.”
He wasn’t talking about the boat.
For the entire day—and into the evening, if he was truthful—Troy wondered if he’d heard what he wanted to hear, when really she’d meant for him to take the boat and shove it. He didn’t receive a phone call or an email, not even a text.
But she called the next day—thank God—saying without preamble, “I found the perfect yacht for you.” He savored the sound of her voice.
There was no equivocation in her words, no I think preceding it. Just like there’d been no equivocation when she’d told him she’d never, ever go out with him.
But he had other weapons in his arsenal. “Great. I’d like to take it for a test cruise.”
She took a gratifying pause, as if his request settled her. “I can arrange that.”
Then he deployed the kicker. “And you have to go with me.”
Another pause, this time deliberate while, he was sure, she thought of how to refuse. “You don’t need me along.”
“Oh, I beg to differ,” he said. “You’re the one brokering this deal. You need to see what you’re trying to sell me or the deal is off.”
He didn’t give her a choice. Not like he’d given her a choice about going on a date with him. He made the deal even sweeter, at least for him. “But I don’t want the owner to accompany us. It’s awkward when they hover. People never like to have the owners at an open house, and a boat is no different.”
Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t fault his logic. “All right, fine.” There was a definite snap in her tone. “Do you want the crew to be on standby? Or would you prefer to take it out yourself?”
Oh no. He wouldn’t crew the yacht himself. He wouldn’t be allowed to without a boating license. Besides, he intended to devote all his time to her. “We’ll need the crew. I can’t assess everything if I’m trying to sail a boat.”
“It’s not a sailboat,” she said. “It’s a yacht.”
And it would have cabins with beds in them, a sundeck, and a pool. Maybe even a hot tub.
The perfect place for seduction.
He was already planning the picnic he’d bring.
He would turn this into a date whether she wanted to call it that or not.
If Troy wanted to make this the most fabulous date—and yes, no matter what Michaela said, it was a date—he needed help. Desperately. All he knew about her food preferences was that she liked pad thai. And chicken satay with peanut sauce. She hadn’t requested gluten-free noodles, so that ruled out allergies to gluten and nuts.
But what would she relish? If she could choose anything in the world, what would it be?
He knew of only one source of information: Susan Spencer, who had become friendly with Michaela’s mom. He could get her to ask Flo and take notes while they talked. It was a brilliant idea.
He made his way to Susan and Bob Spencer’s Portola Valley home that very afternoon. Michaela had called back with the date for the cruise: Thursday. He had only tomorrow to prepare, which meant he had to hustle.
Cars filled the circular drive. When he’d called, Susan had said it was fine to come over, but it seemed she was hosting a party.