Total pages in book: 211
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
I am thrilled by the way he touches me, and seems to want me close, butterflies in my belly, fluttering about.
“This okay?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say, sounding a bit breathless, but how can I not? He’s touching me. “It is,” I add and my voice is not one bit stronger.
“Good.” His voice is a low rasp, his eyes warm and reluctant as they leave my face and focus on the waitress who’s just appeared. “Let’s start with drinks.” He looks at me again. “You do like wine, right?”
“I like the idea of wine. I love trying it.”
He laughs, a low, sexy laugh. “You sure you like trying it?”
“I do,” I promise. “I really do.”
“Then I’ll order my favorite here and you can tell me what you think.” He works out the details with the waitress and when she departs, his elbow settles on the back of the booth as he rotates to face me and I do the same of him. We were close moments before, but somehow closer now that we’re facing each other, the air crackling between us. “You still feel like I’m your enemy?” he asks softly.
“I should ask you that. I’ve never seen you as the enemy. And if you think taking over the company makes me see you as that, it doesn’t. The only thing that makes you my enemy is if you turn on me or my mother.”
“Your mother is aligned with my father.”
“I know,” I regretfully admit. “I’ve tried to get her to see that we have real problems, but she’s blinded by love. I feel like there’s something illicit going on. She’s not involved, she’s just not helping to solve the problem. So, I’m asking you to please keep her out of this. I’m begging you.”
His eyes narrow in a barely perceptible way. “There are very few things I would even ask you to beg for, all of them involve pleasure.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks, and mischief burns in his eyes. “You have my word.”
I have his word, but I’m not sure if he just told me he’s going to make me beg for pleasure, or he’s going to protect my mother. And I need to know. For my mother, I need to know. “Eric—”
“Your wine has arrived,” the waitress announces, but his eyes, those gorgeous, intelligent eyes hold mine, seconds passing before he says, “I’ll protect her Harper, as long as she deserves it.” With this, he turns his attention to the waitress who hands Eric a sample of the wine and waits for his approval before filling our glasses.
As long as she deserves it.
His words echo in my mind. She deserves it. Of course, she deserves it, but what’s his definition of her crossing a line? And why am I even worried there might be a line she crosses?
Eric approves of the taste of wine he’s been offered and our glasses are filled. Once we’re alone, I sip the beverage, a sweet yet oaky flavor touching my tongue. “It’s excellent,” I say.
“Glad you like it.”
I burn to ask him about my mother again, but the moment feels lost and a new one resists introduction. His arm is back on the seat, his body angled to mine, and there’s an easiness in him I do not want to lose. This man interests me, and it has nothing to do with this family, or business, though certainly his ability to manage all of the above is sexy as hell. I might not be a Cinderella waiting to be rescued, but there is a strength and confidence about Eric I find beyond appealing. I envy this quality, but I am also drawn to it in him. I set my glass down and rotate toward him, eager to test his claim to being an open book tonight. “About that anger.”
He reaches up and strokes my hair behind my ear, an unexpectedly tender touch that shivers through me. “I’m angry at you for making me want you so fucking badly that I had to come here.”
Those words are raw and real, vibrating along my nerve endings. “Are you going to make me regret it?”
“There are many things I want to make you feel, Harper, but regret is not one of them.”
Chapter twenty-three
Harper
Eric presses his cheek to my cheek and whispers, “Do you know how badly I want to take you to the bathroom and fuck you right now?” Heat pools low in my belly as he pulls back to look at me and adds, “Or anywhere, for that matter?”
My body melts while my mind fights for reason. I can’t end up naked and confused again with this man and in no different a place than we are now. “Which would be fine if you could do it without hating me along with the rest of the family,” I say, and somehow my hand is on his tattooed arm and I should move it, I know, but I don’t want to stop touching him.