Page 59 of The Price of Scandal
“You’ll go toe-to-toe with your father in a shouting match and then wear a color your mother insists makes you look washed out. Yet you’ll turn around and compliment a low-level employee by name. You go about getting what you want by any means possible. And I respect that.”
“You respect that?” she scoffed.
I leaned over into her space, revved when she didn’t pull back. “Your self-control is not just admirable. It’s a goddamn turn-on.”
She studied me, that sexy, smug smile still tugging on lips I wanted desperately to kiss again. “And why is that?” she asked finally.
I leaned closer still. “Because I want to strip you of that exquisite self-control of yours and see what’s underneath. I want you naked and begging because the only thing in the world that matters to you is my cock settling between your perfect thighs,” I confessed. “I want to conquer you because you’re unconquerable.”
We were so close I could feel her breath on my cheek.
Her nipples pebbled under the thin material of her tank. I longed to reach out and swipe my thumb over them both. I wanted to hear that intake of breath the first time I touched her in a way that neither of us could walk away from.
She raised her glass as if she couldn’t possibly care that I was an inch away from her, and my dick had turned to stone. “What makes you think I’d let you conquer me?”
“Ah, Emily,” I said, giving in and stroking a finger down her bare cheek. I trailed it down her neck and across the sharp clavicle, then dipped it lower, under the scoop of her tank and over the curve of her breast. “That’s the fun part. Don’t you think? See which of us conquers the other?”
I could feel her heartbeat speeding under my finger. Her chest was rising in silent, short pants. I was harder than marble. I wanted to kiss her again. Taste her. To pull down those boxers and lick her.
Then I’d burn the ex-boyfriend’s underwear and give her anything she wanted as long as it was mine.
“You don’t sleep with your clients,” she pointed out.
“I haven’t wanted to before now.”
“We are a supremely bad idea,” she reminded me.
“I agree. But wouldn’t it be a fun mistake to make?”
“I don’t have room for any more mistakes,” she said.
Giving myself some much needed space, I took my seat again. “How do you decide who you trust?” I asked, abruptly changing the subject. Blandly.
“Stop trying to push me off-center.”
“Just answer the question.”
She turned her back on the sky and faced me. “The same way anyone chooses. Just because I’ve got a higher tax bracket doesn’t mean I exist in a different world of relationships,” she said.
“Humor me and explain,” I insisted dryly.
“Past experience is generally a good indicator of who can be trusted,” she said.
“Is it now?”
“Cut to the chase, Price.”
“Jane,” I said. “You give her full access to your life. You rely on her.”
“I trust Jane implicitly,” Emily said.
“How about your friends? Daisy. Cameron. Luna?”
“Yes, of course.”
“You trust your father?” I pressed.
“Of course,” she said, exasperated.
