Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 145112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
His hand is on my arm fast, and I’m inhaling quickly, searching for my grit. ‘Please,’ he murmurs quietly. My eyes lift, my shock obvious. Becker Hunt doesn’t say please. And I don’t do casual fucks. Especially with my boss.
Taking his hand from my arm, I drop it in his lap. ‘Mr Hunt, I believe you have a date tonight.’
His frown is quite cute, and then his phone rings, pulling our eyes to the centre console. I smile to myself, seeing Alexa lighting up the screen. ‘She means nothing to me,’ he says when it rings off.
‘Oh, I know,’ I assure him, taking the handle of the door again. ‘And I’m not interested in meaning nothing.’
His stunned eyes dart to mine. ‘I’ve no intention of making you feel like nothing.’
‘Your lack of intention doesn’t mean you won’t, Becker.’ I open the door and get out, leaning down to look him straight in the face. The poor man seems a little lost. ‘I know you well enough by now. Let’s keep it professional.’ I have to be the sensible one, since it’s obvious Becker can’t control his urges. A tiny part of me is quite satisfied. But a bigger part of me knows there’s nothing in it other than an urge. Tomorrow, Becker will have had his itch scratched, and I will be back in that place called shame and weakness. No. ‘It’s been a lovely day. Let’s make sure tomorrow is lovely, too.’
His phone starts ringing again – Alexa again – and I smile as I push the door closed, pulling my bag on to my shoulder, so proud of myself and my strength. But no sooner have I taken a step, Becker is in front of me, his phone held up. I blink at the illuminated screen as he accepts the call and takes his mobile to his ear, looking me straight in the eye. What is he doing?
‘Yeah, hi,’ he says, and is quiet for a few moments, no doubt listening to Alexa detail exactly what she has planned for him. I force myself not to wonder what that is. ‘Afraid not.’ Becker’s stare remains nailed to mine. ‘No, I can’t see you any more.’
I move back again, uncomfortable, not just by Becker’s closeness, but by what he’s doing. What is he doing? I don’t know, but I don’t like the feel of my heart’s increasing speed. I step to the side to pass him and get blocked. ‘Becker, go home,’ I say, getting worked up.
‘Yes, I’m with Eleanor,’ he says down the line, reaching for my arm to hold me in place. ‘Bye.’ He hangs up, and then silence falls. So what does he expect to happen now? That I’ll dive on him? Drag him upstairs? Thank him?
I look at him to be sure he can see my resolve, as well as hear it. ‘That was a waste of a gesture.’
Is that hurt I see in his eyes? Yes, it’s definitely hurt. Oh my days, he really did expect me to shower him in appreciation. What does he take me for? Just because he fancies a different woman tonight, and I’m the lucky girl, he expects me to melt and swoon all over him? I feel my anger simmering. It’ll boil over soon.
‘It wasn’t a gesture,’ he says. ‘I meant it. Honestly, I never want to see her again.’
I laugh out loud, staggered. ‘Honestly?’ I mimic. ‘With all due respect, Becker, I just spent the day watching you lie to hundreds of people. I watched that poker face of yours fool everyone. So please don’t talk to me about honesty.’ I pull my arm from his grip. ‘And at the same time, you used me as a pawn.’ I storm past him. ‘I have more respect for myself than to be at your beck and call.’
‘You’re not a pawn, Eleanor,’ he shouts after me, but I keep walking on a huff of disbelief. Sure I wasn’t. ‘Goddamn it!’ He lands in front of me, blocking the way to my door. ‘You’re not a pawn, and I really need you to know that.’
‘Then what the hell am I, Becker? Please tell me. An employee? An accomplice? A lay?’
His jaw pulses under the fierce bite of his teeth. I’m even more furious that my question angers him. I’ve never met such an obtuse man in my life. ‘You are not a fucking lay,’ he says. ‘You’re the fucking queen of the chess board, Eleanor. Superior to all. Got it?’
I withdraw, blinking.
‘I didn’t take you to Countryscape to use you,’ he yells. ‘You want honesty, I’ll give you honesty.’ He cups my cheeks and brings his face close to mine. ‘I took you because I have an annoying fucking urge to let you in.’
‘What?’ I step away, and this time he doesn’t close in on me.