Total pages in book: 224
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
“I don’t think you can help yourself.”
“I can. For you, I can.”
“I’m a strong person.”
“I know you are.” He strokes a strand of hair behind my ear. “And it’s sexy as hell.”
“I’m strong because I know what makes me tick. I don’t even date, in order to stay focused on my career. I can’t mix this and that. I can’t be what you want me to be, what I need to be for me, in the boardroom, with you fucking with my head.”
“Carrie,” he says, his hand settling on my face. “I don’t want you to push me away. We’ll do this together.” His thumb strokes my cheek. “We’ll work out rules this weekend.”
“You’re going to follow rules?”
“I want you, baby. I want to know you, not just fuck you, and the migraine is not an excuse, but it makes it easy for me to slip into old ways.”
The phone on his desk buzzes. “Reid, you have Grayson Bennett on the phone.”
“Tell him I’ll be right there,” he calls out and looks at me. “Don’t move. Please.”
“Go get the call.”
“Tell me you won’t run for the door.”
“Reid, damn it, get the call. We need his business. I won’t leave.”
He kisses me and rotates, walking to the desk and grabbing the phone. “Grayson,” he answers. “Good to hear back from you.” He listens for a moment. “We’ll be at the chopper pad in two hours.”
I’m standing at his desk across from him when he disconnects. “He wants us to have dinner with him at his Hamptons home. Tonight, baby. Let’s go pack for an overnight stay and then go nail the deal of a century. He wants to get to know you before he talks about a project he has brewing.” He rounds the desk and pulls me to him. “But not the way I want to get to know you.” He cups my face. “I want to know you, Carrie. I’m obsessed with knowing you, woman. I know the smartest thing for you to do is to walk away, but I already told you last night—I can’t let you.”
“Instead you’ll just push me and push me until I do it for you?” I don’t give him time to reply. “No. In or out, Reid. Isn’t that what you told me? And before you answer, I don’t want asshole-Reid. I want you. The real you. I won’t tell that he exists if you don’t.”
“You might not like what you discover,” he warns.
“Does that mean you’re going to let me find out?”
“Apparently it does. In, baby. I’m in with you.”
“No more warning me away or promising me that I’ll hate you and then trying to make it happen to get it over with.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “That’s what you think I do?”
“I know you do, Reid.”
“As I said. You see too much.”
“I don’t see enough.”
“Well, that’s about to change.” He kisses me. “Let’s get out of here.”
Chapter thirty-three
Reid
My plan to get Carrie out of the office and all to myself after announcing the Grayson Bennett meeting fails. We head for my office door, exit, and Connie is immediately on her feet.
“Where exactly are you going?” she demands.
“We’re headed to the Hamptons for a meeting with Grayson Bennett,” Carrie replies before I have the chance, excitement lifting in her voice as she adds, “This could be huge for us. The deal of all deals.” She’s animated, her beautiful eyes alight with anticipation.
This matters deeply to her, and it matters beyond pleasing the board. I can’t remember the last time anything mattered to me on that level. Until now. She’s making this matter to me on a level I didn’t know anything could matter ever again. I set that bombshell aside for further analysis later.
“Hold all calls that aren’t critical,” I add, “and we’ll need a chopper ready to go in an hour.”
“You mean like your four o’clock conference call with Mercury Bank?” Connie asks. “And before you tell me to cancel it, I’ll remind you that he refused to talk to Gabe and wants you to prove you’re still his man.”
“Right,” I growl, the thundering in my head that comes and goes, hitting me all over again. “That man needs a woman. Maybe then he’ll get over this hard-on for me.”
Carrie laughs, the soft mix of sweet and sexy stirring my impatience to get us the hell out of here and someplace where I can use her as my remedy, “Why the hell did we book that for Friday afternoon again?” I ask.
“You know why,” Connie reprimands, the only damn person other than Carrie, who ever reprimands me, “your client is leaving for Europe for a month tomorrow.”
“In other words,” I say dryly. “I’m taking the call and pushing back our departure.” I glance at Carrie. “It’ll be at least an hour.”