Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
I set my cell facedown on the table and picked up my latte, processing this new information like a detective mulling over clues for a job no one had hired me to do.
Fact: these were three smart, highly respected men…who’d been involved in a love triangle. That should have spelled scandal, all caps. Or at least, it should have made a headline or two. However, there was nothing tying Alistair to Colin romantically. Nothing at all.
That was…odd but telling. I had a strong feeling he hadn’t lost Colin because he’d forgotten birthdays and didn’t care about sex. He’d lost him because he’d put his career first.
That was sad.
6
WINNIE
Ispent the rest of the day on my own, strolling through the city and trying not to think about love triangles or basically anything that didn’t spark joy. Paris was a feast for the eyes and the soul. I felt rejuvenated and carefree the following morning…ready to conquer the city and if he’d let me, assist the professor.
I tapped on his door, unabashedly ogling his damp torso as he fiddled with the corner of a towel.
“Alistair, you’re naked,” I deadpanned. “Again. Are you irascible to clothes?”
He fastened the towel and offered an apologetic half smile. “I think you mean averse not irascible. And no, I quite like being dressed and I’ll fix that immediately. Good morning.”
“Good morning.” I sidled around him, stepping into his room. “Don’t bother dressing on my account. Hey, it looks like you cleaned up the place.”
“A bit. I shouldn’t have opened the door, but I didn’t want to miss the cleaning service today.” He clutched his towel with one hand and raked his fingers through his hair with the other. “I’ll finish up in the bathroom and get dressed. Was there something you needed?”
“Yes! I’ve been doing some research, and I have questions.” I shooed him into his bedroom suite. “Do your thing. We can talk through the door.”
“I’m going to shave, Winnie, and—”
“That’s cool.”
Alistair wrinkled his brow as if pondering whether it was “cool” before giving up and heading for the bathroom. He didn’t close the door all the way, but I kept a respectful distance perched on the bench at the end of his king-sized bed.
The thick damask curtains were drawn on one side of the window, letting a ribbon of light in. I quelled the urge to tidy the mess of discarded clothing on the floor. I was no neat freak, but this dude was a slob.
“What was your question?” he asked, removing his glasses to slather lotion onto his cheeks.
I gazed at his reflection in the mirror and damn it, my mind went blank. There was something incredibly sexy about a bear of a man shaving. Or was that me?
I cleared my throat and decided to put the overdue “I shouldn’t have stuck my tongue down your throat” speech on hold. It was better to concentrate on my new mission of becoming a proper assistant.
“Did ancient Egyptians really invent toothpaste, clocks, and paper? What was the purpose of the mummy thing? I read that everyone did it, irregardless of class.”
Alistair pivoted with a razor in hand, his face white with shaving cream, his hair askew. “Irregardless is not a word, and not everyone was mummified. It was an expensive process. Poorer people were buried in simple graves with a few belongings.”
“I knew that. I was just testing you.” I jumped to my feet to lean against the bathroom doorjamb, unthinking. Emphasis on unthinking. I shouldn’t have been in his suite at all, but he was magnetic. “These are things an assistant should know, and I’m doing my homework.”
“That’s not necessary,” he stated, dragging his razor along his jaw.
I ignored him. “I read that the oldest known mummy was found in Chile, not Egypt. I also read something disgusting about the organs and brains and—you’re going to cut yourself. Let me help.”
He held the razor out of my reach and shook his head. “No, Winnie.”
I rested my hip on the counter, crossing my arms and blurting, “I’m sorry about the kissing thing. It was hot as fuck, so I don’t really regret it, but it probably shouldn’t have happened. I’m glad that you spoke to Gerard and took control of that situation. Good move. Except you took on another project. And since it’s sort of my fault, I’m going to assist you…like I suggested.”
Alistair’s eyes shifted to mine in the mirror as he continued to shave. I watched the glide of his sure fingers in a trance. I didn’t notice the gathering silence until he turned on the water and bent to rinse his face. He reached for the hand towel on the counter and dried off, then slipped out of the room.
And me? My mouth was dry and my heart was beating out of control. Oh, yeah…and my dick was pulsing against my zipper. I was sex starved, to be sure, but this was an extreme reaction to watching a man shave.