Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
I scrunch my face in disgust. “Why on earth would I ever want to do that?” I shake my head at the thought. Kiss him? Sure, he has kissable lips, and he’s very attractive—probably too attractive for me, that’s for sure.
He takes a step in my direction, and I stay where I am by the front door. His managing to get the upper hand and have me backed up is entirely my own fault. I should have moved.
Hell, I shouldn’t have even invited him in.
But I was just so angry.
“I’m very kissable,” he states seriously. And it takes a moment for it to register, but then laughter bubbles up, and I lean over, clutching my stomach as I laugh uncontrollably.
He really just said that, and with a straight face.
Wiping my eyes, I manage to compose myself.
“I’m sorry, but have you thought of being a comedian?” I ask, unable to keep the smile off my face.
“You laugh, but I am.” His tone is still serious.
Actually, he almost always sounds serious.
“How do you know Taylor?” I ask, changing the subject. I don’t want to think about kissing him. You don’t kiss the people you’re investigating for a story. Even if he does have very kissable lips, which his tongue is sliding over right now, but kissing him would be very stupid.
And I’m not that stupid.
Am I?
“She works for me.”
“Of course she does.”
“Most people in the media work for me, in one way or another.” He says this as if I should already know that. “Now, will you be joining me for a drink?”
“No,” I say, straight up.
He steps in, slow and deliberate, until his arms rise, one on either side of my head, bracketing me in. He’s close enough that I can feel the death radiating off him, his presence like a wall I can’t move through.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I ask in a barely there whisper.
“You’re blocking the door. Or were you planning on kissing me after all?”
“Why do you keep mentioning us kissing? Have I ever once given you any indication that I want to kiss you?”
“Yes.”
My head rears back. “When?”
“It’s in those innocent eyes, Hurricane, the way they keep falling to my lips.”
“Well, you need to get your eyesight checked.”
And, dammit, my gaze flicks to his damn lips.
And when it does, his mouth twitches, as if fighting a smirk.
“Goodnight, Hurricane.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
When neither of us moves, he says, “I can’t leave with you being a linebacker and blocking the door.”
“Aren’t you man enough to move me?” I blurt stupidly, not even realizing I’m still blocking the door. Before I can slide out of the way, he grips my waist and lifts me effortlessly, bringing me close. Not close enough that our bodies touch, but there’s only a breath of space between us. Then he places me back on my feet just next to the door. He winks at me before he pulls open the door and leaves, shutting it behind him.
I need to stay away from that man.
He is nothing but bad news.
TEN
SOREN
I’d shown up at Cressida’s last night to talk about the interview. I wanted to put the damn thing off as long as possible, but she is relentless. She’s emailed me several times already this week, including last night after I left her place. She’s hounding me to set up an appointment to sit down with her and hold up my end of our bargain.
I tap my pen against my desk as I contemplate when I should meet with her. I know for a fact that she’s completely free this week. But at the same time, I know I should stay clear of her. For some reason, I let my guard down around her.
Yes, she’s incredibly fucking beautiful, and I can’t help imagining what it would be like to kiss her, but she is the last person I should be thinking about kissing. She’s the enemy. She could bring everything down that the Forsaken has been working so hard to achieve for so many decades.
I’ve read her stories, and I know she digs deep and goes in-depth when it comes to researching her topics. She’s an outstanding journalist. If she weren’t working for a competitor, I would hire her myself. But she is, and she seems to love her job. However, the right amount of money can sway almost anyone.
But if money were that important to her, she probably would’ve stayed with her ex-husband, whose family is affluent. I don’t think money factors into her decisions most of the time. She doesn’t seem to be a person who is easily intimidated by wealth. For example, a woman who is easily intimidated wouldn’t have stepped foot into the gala, knowing she was extremely underdressed and that it wouldn’t go unnoticed. And while she’d put on a brave face, acting as if she didn’t care, later on, she’d proven to me that she did, in fact, care very much. She was just better at hiding it than anyone I’ve ever seen before.