Page 89 of Fighting Mr. Knight

I tip my glass in her direction.

She ignores me and turns back to her mate, Nisha.

“Because I need to talk to Counsellor Adams,” I say to Anna/Ada, grabbing my opportunity. “Counsellor Adams.”

Anna/Ada takes the hint and saunters off.

When Adams sees me, he freezes, then his face lights up like a guy who has just discovered how his genitals work.

Damn, this is going to be a long, boring conversation.

“Jack, my man!” And there starts the monologue.

Luckily, I don’t need to concentrate too hard on what he’s saying. A few nods on cue keep him going.

I lean against the bar, directly facing Bonnie. I probably shouldn’t be so blatant, but I couldn’t give a fuck.

She’s sitting to the side, so she has to tilt her head to see me, but every time she does, my gaze is firmly fixed on her.

Nisha leans forward, whispering something to Bonnie that makes her blush even more.

Another guy on the team says something to her. She gives a wide open-mouthed laugh and flicks her hair over her shoulder before glancing over at me coyly.

This little show is all for me.

Nisha gets up and the lead architect from the company overseeing the entire regeneration quickly takes her seat. I hadn’t noticed him waiting in the wings.

He says something to get Bonnie’s full attention.

I clench my teeth as I watch her become more enamoured by whatever the hell they’re talking about. She throws her head back and laughs. Her legs part slightly, and I hope to fuck she bought a pair of panties to go with that bra.

“Another Scotch, old chap?”

“Yes,” I growl at Counsellor Adams. “Put them on my tab.”

The lead architect, whose name I should know, says something else and Bonnie nods, smiling intently. Maybe free alcoholic aphrodisiacs weren’t the best tactic.

The burning sensation in my chest grows and it’s not Scotch.

She darts a glance around the table then slyly hands the guy her phone.

What the fuck?

No, darlin’, I did not bring you out here to get off with another man.

As he passes back her phone, I snap up my own and type:Come here.

She jerks her head around, shocked. “No,” she mouths to me, then turns to the guy.

I curse between my teeth.

“Bad day, Jack? You seem a tad stressed.”

“Most productive day I’ve had in a long time.” I take the refill from Adams and type:Please.

She smirks over at me, typing back.See, that wasn’t so hard?

I sip my Scotch, watching her as she walks the long way around the bar. I’m not even pretending to listen to Adams anymore.