I’d made it just fine to the town of Booth, but the rental house Paola had booked was on the outskirts, and I had no idea where. Out the car window were cold, empty fields, a few cows, and endless, flat pavement under a heavy sky. It was pretty grim. At least the sky matched my shitty mood. I’d sent out a few job applications on the plane, but I didn’t expect to hear back. I’d spent the last eight months applying to public interest roles and hadn’t gotten many responses.
Every day I woke with the sensation of the floor slipping slowlyout from underneath my feet. I kept waking in the middle of the night to check my email, and the anxiety was slowly grinding me down. This trip had to go well. I had to win this deal. But first, I had to get to the damn rental house so I could start fresh tomorrow.
The country was so not my scene. I was a born and bred New Yorker. I walked fast, talked faster, and rarely dressed down. The wet pavement in the airport parking lot had already made a mess of my best black stilettos. A poor choice for driving and an even poorer choice for this weather. The cop who had followed me from the airport must have noticed my halting drive, because he had only peeled off when I had pulled out of town and onto these country roads. I rarely drove, only maintaining my license at my father’s insistence. He claimed that knowing how to drive had saved his family’s lives when they had fled Armenia.
I put the car in drive and turned around.Right is toward the town. I think?Fuck it.I had to pick a direction. Corn fields and the occasional tree rolled by. Signs for the town of Booth started to appear, framed by the ominous clouds hanging low in the evening sky. I reached the town limits when the first few fat drops hit my windshield. Not ten minutes later, the diner I’d spotted on the way out came into view and I sighed. Something was going right, at least. Hopefully, they could charge my phone or give me directions. They had to have plugs. I steeled myself for the slap of raindrops against my face and scurried inside as fast as my stilettos would take me.
This isn’t bad.It was actually pretty quaint. Lots of photos with what I assumed were local celebrities due to the number of cowboy hats and farm animals. Cozy looking booths and a really hot bartender behind the counter.Hellothere. He tipped his ball cap at me. “Ma’am. Seat yourself anywhere you’d like.”
“Can I plug my phone in, please?” I waved the dead device in the air. “And yes, I know I amthatperson.”
He grinned and gestured for the phone. “I’ve got you.”
I plopped myself at the bar and ordered a cup of coffee. Ogling this guy and scanning the local paper someone had left on a chaircould easily occupy me for an hour. I just needed a little juice on my phone before I got back in the car.
When my phone finally got to thirty percent battery, I dragged myself through the rain, into the car, and followed the directions back to where I’d stopped before. I passed the boarded-up gas station, now mostly shadows under a dim, wet sky. I shivered. It was so empty here. And I’d spent the last hour watching residents heading home to their cozy houses, probably to have nice dinners and sit by the fire on a cold winter night. My stomach rumbled. This sucked.Please let this house be close.I just wanted to change out of these clothes and have some dinner.
I turned on to a bumpy dirt road next to a cornfield. My teeth rattled with every pebble and divot. A stately old Victorian with a lovely porch came into view.Not bad.My heart lifted a little. It was surrounded by cornfields, but it looked cozy and warm. A light was on inside. The rental company must have left it on.
I pulled up the drive. It was silent, except for night breezes shushed gently through the adjacent field. I shuddered.At least the lights are on, otherwise this would be totally creepy.I parked the car, dropped my bag on the porch, and fumbled for the extra key that the listing noted would be under the mat. It wasn’t there. Crap. Maybe under the flowerpot next to it? I picked it up and then stubbed my toe on the doorframe and hissed a curse. Okay, not under the flowerpot. Maybe the door was open? I reached out to push the door open, right as Jason Elliott, in all his shirtless glory, pulled it open.
8
CYNTHIA
My hand landed on firm, glorious abs, my thumb just brushing the vee of muscles above his waistband. Muscles he’d used to drive into me with ruthless focus just twenty-four hours before.Oh no. No.Maybe I was dreaming. Or having a nightmare. I looked up and met eyes of bright, burning blue, like the sun on a cloudless day, when it was so hot that you felt seared to the bone. It really was him.Fuck.His lips quirked, and he raised an eyebrow. I snatched my hand back like I had been burned.
“What are you doing here?”This can’t be happening.
He leaned against the door frame, blocking my way in to the house. The yellow light from the interior made him glow. “I could ask you the same question.”
“Are you on this deal?”Please say no, please say no. If I had to sit across from him for weeks…it would be torture.
“No, I’m just here for fun,” he replied, smirking. He gave me a once-over and my face flamed. I had a brief flash of him moving over me, his face slack with pleasure. My stomach tightened.I will not survive this deal if I can’t even stand next to him.
“So you’re representing H Brands?” I asked, inanely.
“Yup. And you’re representing Argan.” He crossed his arms. “Youlook a little worse for the wear. Tired? Didn’t sleep well last night?” His eyes danced.
Lovely. So we were going to play it like this.The deal started now, and he was already one up on me.
“It’s been a long day,” I said and paused. I was exhausted from getting home after midnight and dealing with a full day of traveling, and still sore from the five orgasms he’d given me.Again, give me another,he’d murmured in my ear as he fucked me into the mattress. I wanted to throw up, or maybe run away. Instead, I steeled my spine. “This is my rental house.”
He tapped his chin as if he were thinking, when I knew he was in fact laughing at me. “Actually, I think it’s my rental house.”
“I have the booking confirmation right here.” I pulled out my phone. I was not in the mood for him and his hot body and his shitty attitude. Embarrassment and exhaustion were a potent cocktail. And I had forgotten what an asshole he could be when he was in work mode.Guess last night was a fluke.
He shrugged, but his eyes danced with unholy glee. “Not sure. Must be a mistake. Find a hotel.” He turned and grabbed the door handle.Is he about to shut the door in my face?I clenched my fist.
“There are none.” I was not going anywhere. If I let him walk all over me now, I’d be giving up serious ground in our negotiation.
He knew it too. His eyes laughed at me. He had the upper hand, figuratively and literally, from his perch just within the door.I need to get into that house. He raised a brow and crossed his arms. His biceps popped obscenely, and I looked away.
“I’m sure you have an extra room.” The words were dragged from my throat. Asking him for a favor was about as pleasant as chewing glass.
“I don’t have to let you stay with me. In fact, I think that would be a very bad idea,” he said smugly.
“And why is that?”