My brow furrows. That’s…it?
He kisses me and then acts like nothing happened?
Meanwhile, my chest continues heaving under my blouse. Yet he barely appears winded.
I huff.Jerk.
Kellin adjusts his cufflinks with an irritating amount of poise. “You’ll receive my full report in forty-eight hours. I’ll let myself out.”
Back to business. No evidence of the hot-as-hell kiss we just shared.
Even his curls show no sign of my fingers’ liberties.
He walks out the door, his strides fluid and controlled. No backward glance.
No good night.
In his absence, the quiet screams.
I rub the spot where he touched my wrist. No mark—he didn’t grip me hard enough for that—but the spot still burns. Both with heat and the question left behind.
Was I saved by the bell?
As the adrenaline from the last hour fades from my system, my knees weaken. I collapse into my chair and bring my fingers to my tingling, swollen lips. Both Kellin’s taste and musky-sweet scent linger, teasing me.
I stare at the phone, as if Lenora’s name might flash again and rescue me.
My brain wars with my body, which craves nothing more than to sink into pleasure, consequences be damned.
Do I want Kellin in my bed? Absolutely.
But Ineedhim in order to liberate myself from my father’s iron grip. To help me obtain the key to my freedom. Kellin’s not a King, not involved with my father’s criminal underworld. The investment deal he offers could pry me out from under Dad’s oppressive thumb for good.
Forgetting that—even for a moment—could ruin everything.
Yes, Kellin’s interest in me is crystal clear.
But can I have my cake and eat it too? Can I claim both the investor and the man beneath that perfect suit?
Kellin dons an impeccable mask. On the surface, he plays the role of the perfect businessman, exhibiting both charisma and composure. Obviously, he knows how to broker a deal…and how to stop one cold. But now I’ve witnessed what simmers beneath all that easy charm.
A man prepared to murder Shout on my behalf.
The man whose eyes blazed with desire in the moments before our kiss.
That glimpse should issue a distinct warning. Instead, I see an invitation.
Even though I shouldn’t, I want more of the man under the mask.
I press my palms against my face. “You’re out of your mind.” My whisper reverberates in the quiet office.
Who am I kidding? I’ve been out of my mind since the second Kellin Jameson sauntered into my hotel.
When I finally pick up the phone to return the missed call, my head is spinning. I try my best to hide the wreckage. “Hi, Lenora.”
“Hey, boss.” She’s bright, perky, and as animated as she would be first thing in the morning. “Quick question for you. Do you want me to confirm tomorrow’s catering order now or wait for the tasting notes from Chef Moreau?”
“Lenora, it’s late. Why are you still here? You’re no good to me if you can’t keep your eyes open tomorrow.” While I reside in a suite here, she lives halfway across town. “We’ll finalize everything in the morning. Go home.”
