“Oh, come on.” Lenora folds her arms. “No man with a voice that sexy could be ugly in real life.”
I beg to differ. Before the Cypress, when I actually had free time, I used to listen to audiobooks. One of my favorite male narrators had the sexiest voice on the planet, and I was convinced he was hot enough to be an underwear model.
My illusions were shattered when I met the author and her narrator at a book signing in LA.
Let’s just say his personality was his best quality. That and his voice, of course.
No need to burst Lenora’s bubble though. “Thank you for that expert opinion. But believe it or not, his looks don’t have anything to do with his business acumen.”
She purses her lips. “I’m just saying, why don’t you go freshen up? You’ve still got about ten minutes.”
I shake my head. “There’s no way I’ll make it all the way upstairs and back in time.” I glance down at myself. My standard black blazer, skirt, and heels stare back at me. It’s not quite a Little Black Dress, but it’s not half bad. “Old Reliable will have to do.”
“That is, like, the un-sexiest thing I’ve ever heard in my—” Lenora cuts herself off with a strangled choke.
Her face goes slack, her eyes widen, and her cheeks flush. Frowning, I spin around.
And my stomach swoops.
A tall man with severe, devastatingly handsome features loiters inside the lobby doors. High, royal forehead. Sharp nose with well-trimmed, stubbly shadow clinging to his angular jaw. He keeps his dark curls on the shorter side and pushed back off his forehead, ensuring that no one misses his deep, dark brown eyes.
His jet-black suit is tailored to perfection, highlighting his broad shoulders and long, muscular legs. Gold cufflinks glitter beneath the skylights as he adjusts the blood-red tie on his pressed white shirt. In his fist, he clutches the handle of a rolling titanium suitcase.
My body warms as I drink him in. He’s one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever laid eyes on, and considering I live in Los Angeles, that’s saying a lot.
Lenora elbows me. “That’s him.”
I jump. “Who?”
“Kellin.” Her whisper may as well be a shout. “I hunted until I found his photo on the website. That is absolutely, positively him. Yum.”
“Holy shit.That’sKellin Jameson?” The man would put an underwear model to shame.
“Right. Maybe this is the perfect time to end your year-plus dry streak. I bet a guy like that could shake the cobwebs loose.”
“Lenora!” I swear I’m this close to slapping a piece of duct tape over her mouth.
My assistant bats her eyelashes in faux innocence. “What? Don’t try to tell me he’s not your type. You were practically drooling.”
Kellin banks to the right and heads our way.
“If you don’t shut up, I’m assigning you to full-time kitchen duty for the rest of the month.” I mutter the words out of the side of my mouth.
“All right, I’ll stop. No need to sink to that level, sheesh.”
Heart leaping, breath hitching, I try to calm myself as the insanely sexy man glides toward us with confident, purposeful strides.
If he’s really an investor, he missed his calling by a mile.
Lenora blows out a breath, pushing honey blond bangs off her forehead. “If that’s what investors look like, my mom was right. I should’ve gotten an MBA.”
I ignore her as Kellin approaches, plastering on my best professional smile. If this gorgeous man really is my path to complete independence, then I cannot andwill notdo a single thing to jeopardize that.
But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish, very badly, that I’d raced upstairs to throw on a different outfit. I don’t need to talk to him to know with one-hundred-percent certainty that Kellin is the type of man women work hard to impress.
All I had time to do in between setting up our meeting and coming down here to inform Lenora was research his business profile. I read about his work with Zenith Investment Groupandtheir parent company, Zenith International.
This Kellin guy is a big shot.
