Page 44 of Talking Dirty with the Billionaire Boss

“I’m big. That helps.”

“I’m not exactly tiny,” I point out, getting in the car with him.

“You’re tall, but skinny. You need some more meat on you.” He eases the car out into the traffic.

I settle back into the comfortable leather seat. I have no idea what I’m doing here. My stomach’s churning with nerves, and I still feel a bit nauseous.

My first thought on seeing him was that he’d come to give me a dressing down. But surely he’d have done that as soon as I opened the door? Why would he take me to breakfast to bollock me?

I didn’t give you a chance to explain last night, and I should have. Is he really going to listen to what I have to say? Maybe it’s not all over.

It doesn’t lessen my nerves, but I do feel a flutter of hope, the first positive thing I’ve felt since I walked out of Huxley’s last night.

“Aren’t you normally at work by now?” I ask.

“Yeah. I guess I’ll be a bit late today.”

“When was the last time you were late to work?”

He thinks about it. “Never?” His lips quirk up.

I feel a little glow inside, but I don’t comment on it. “Where are we going?” I ask.

“Princes Wharf. There’s a little café that does a great vegetarian cooked breakfast.”

“Okay.” I’m not sure if I’ll be able to eat anything, but I’m not going to argue with him.

“You got home okay last night?” he asks.

“Yes. I called for an Uber. Did you stay at Huxley’s?”

He nods. “I slept until five thirty. That’s unusual for me.”

“How long do you usually sleep for?”

“Four hours. But I’ve been busy the last week or so, and I haven’t slept much. So with the alcohol, I just crashed out.” He stops at the traffic lights and glances over at me. “Are you feeling okay? You’re very pale.”

“A bit queasy.” I don’t add that it’s mainly because I’m anxious.

We study each other for a moment. I thought he was handsome in his suit, but he looks gorgeous today. “I like the beard,” I murmur.

He lifts a hand to rasp against the bristles on his cheek. “Yeah, I didn’t have a razor. I’ll have to call home before I go to the office.”

“Where do you live?”

“In an apartment in Grafton, not far from Koru Tech.”

“I bet it’s a nice place.”

“It’s cool. It’s got views over Auckland Domain, and you can see Rangitoto Island in the distance. It has a roof garden too.”

“I bet that’s great at night.”

“It is.” The lights change and he pulls away. “I don’t spend a lot of time there but I—Jesus!”

He slams a foot on the brake as a battered, old car careens across the road in front of us, missing us by a whisker. The driver had obviously gone through a red light and would definitely have hit us if Mack hadn’t stopped. My seatbelt locks as I’m thrust forward, although the airbag doesn’t burst.

I have a brief glimpse of two terrified faces in the back seat before the car spins, skids, then hits a lamppost side on with an enormous crash.

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