Seducing the Billionaire's Secretary(5)

Blake stopped her with one touch. Tingles shot up her arm. Her eyes rounded.

“Don’t be in such a hurry, Ms. Simpson. We have so much to discuss.”

“We have nothing to discuss,” she said primly.

“Dear Andrew, I can’t stop thinking about—”

“How dare you!” Cold fury and embarrassment invaded her body, replacing every bit of desire that had dared to cloud her mind. Would she ever be able to live down those private emails?

“Now that I have your attention, may I make my intentions known?” he asked smoothly, crossing his long legs at the ankle.

“And what would those be?” She glared down at him, at his smirking mouth and wicked blue eyes. Such a shame that the devil looked like a handsome prince.

“You in my bed.”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Give me one date.”

She laughed. “You think you could change my mind with only one date?”

“Fine. Two dates.”

“Ten,” she snapped.

“Five,” he countered.

“Eight.”

“Done.” A satisfied smile covered his gorgeous face.

Sweet Lord. What had she agreed to? Holding up her hands, she began to shake her head. “I didn’t mean it like that. I got caught up with arguing and—and—”

He jumped to his feet, like a graceful cat. “Oh, but you did.” Leaning down, he lightly kissed her cheek. Her pulse raced. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning for breakfast.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t want a nightcap,” she grumbled.

“That’s date three.” He winked, and then sauntered away, like a man who’d just... well, had gotten one over on her.

She had the childish urge to stomp her feet and throw something at him. “Ooooh. There is no way I’m going on one date with that man, much less eight,” she said as she began to make her way back to her hotel room.





Chapter Three


Blake’s first thought upon waking was his conversation with Ella.

It wasn’t well done of him, but he didn’t bloody well care. He was determined to get her to see him in a new light, even if she thought he only wanted her in his bed.

Of course, he wanted her in his bed, but he wanted more than that. He wanted her smiles, her laughter... he wanted the woman he’d met three years ago.

He shoved the covers back and walked to the bathroom, cutting on the shower. While the water steamed up the room, he shaved and brushed his teeth before quickly washing up. He had to catch her at breakfast, only he wasn’t sure if she would be seated on the pavilion or stay in her room.

Taking a chance, he pulled on a pair of board shorts and a t-shirt before heading to the pavilion. Luckily, the place wasn’t packed.

Eyes roaming the room, he found the woman of his dreams seated near the pool. She looked enchanting in her sundress and a wide, floppy hat that kept her pale skin from burning.

Keeping one eye on her, he ran the breakfast gauntlet and filled up a plate. She still hadn’t seen him because if she had, Ella would have left already.

Silently making his way to her, he could barely contain the hope that threatened to bubble up. “Good morning, beautiful,” he said, sitting across from her.

Her head lifted, and her eyes narrowed as she stabbed a piece of helpless pineapple in the process. She had terrifyingly good aim. “It was a good morning.”

“Until I showed up?”

“Exactly.”

“And made it the best morning you’ve ever had,” he said, enjoying the way her eyes rolled and her nostrils flared slightly. If he couldn’t have her soft and sweet, then he would take her passionate hatred of him instead.

“Would you listen to yourself?”

“Rather listen to you, love.”

“Oh, I can go on for hours,” she practically growled at him.

His gaze dropped to her lips. “So can I.”

Her lips parted, twin rosy petals. Her tongue darted out, licking the bottom. His gut clenched. Then she seemed to compose herself, sitting up straighter.

“You really want to listen to me talk?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She studied his face, as if looking for the lie in his answer. “Fine.”

He tucked into his pancakes. “I’m all ears.”

Those lips of hers puckered and he bit back a smile, concentrating on chewing and swallowing instead. “I... don’t know what to say.”

“Where did you grow up?” he asked.

She blinked at him. “South Carolina. Little town called Knight’s Way.”

“Never been there. Would I like it?”

“I thought this was supposed to be about me?” she pointed out with a haughty look on her face.