Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Shit. I’m not going to survive this.
I swallow hard, trying to push the nerves down.
I’ve never been nervous when it comes to men, but this one in particular has me in a damn chokehold. “I, ummm . . . sorry,” I say, getting to my feet. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
He laughs and the sound nearly sends me over the edge. “Not possible, hellcat.”
Fuck me dead and call me Suzi. Did he just call me hellcat? In front of his son? Holy fucking hell.
My cheeks flame, and I struggle to keep my eyes off him, almost forgetting that Zephyr is even in the room. “If you insist,” I practically purr.
His dark gaze all but eats me up and swallows me whole, and with every second he holds my stare, my knees become weaker, barely capable of holding me up. “Oh, I insist,” he rumbles, making me desperate to feel how his words would vibrate through his chest. He moves closer, so close I can smell his woodsy cologne, and damn it, why do I suddenly have the urge to lick this man from head to toe?
He holds out his hand to me, and I take it without hesitation, the warmth of his hold sending hot pulses shooting through my body like an electric current. “Caesar Di Rozé,” he rumbles, adding the slightest accent to his name and making goosebumps spread across my skin.
Oh God. Even his name is sexy.
“Tilly Bardot.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tilly,” he murmurs, that rich tone all but sending me to an early grave as his eyes focus so intently on mine that I forget to breathe.
“Oh, believe me,” I say. “The pleasure is all mine.”
A hint of a smile pulls at the corner of his lips when his son’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife. “What the fuck is happening here?”
Caesar holds on to my hand for a second longer than necessary before finally pulling away with a slight laugh. His gaze shifts to his son. “Nothing at all, Son,” he says before striding toward the bar and helping himself. A moment of silence passes as he fixes himself a drink, and after taking a long sip, his gaze shifts back to mine. “Tell me, Tilly. Has Zephyr here been using my home to impress you?”
A teasing smile pulls across my lips as I glance toward Zephyr. “He’s a red-blooded man. Of course he has.”
“And is it working?”
“No.”
Caesar arches a brow, and the silent laughter in his eyes sends me spiraling so much deeper. “Oh? Why not?”
“Because I’m not the kind of woman who can be bought,” I tell him. “Your home is absolutely magnificent. It could impress even the harshest critics, but it’s not what would make me come back for more.”
“And may I ask what would make you come back for more?”
A grin stretches across my face, and there’s no denying what my answer is, but something tells me that screaming YOUR DICK isn’t appropriate, so instead, I’ll just let that one hang silently in the air between us.
“I see,” Caesar responds as Zeph practically vibrates with pride.
“Okay, have you interrogated Tilly enough, or would you like to keep drilling her?”
Oh dear God. Does Zeph not even see what he’s doing to me? How can he not see that the idea of his father drilling me is the only thing keeping me conscious right now? How can he not smell my desperation in the air? I know Caesar does. I can see it in his eyes. He’s like a lion preparing to attack, getting ready to take what he wants, and damn it, I’ll let him.
Caesar laughs. “I suppose I could take it easy on her,” he rumbles, his gaze sweeping back to mine. “But you don’t strike me as the type of woman who likes it when a man goes easy, are you, Miss Bardot?”
I shake my head. “Not even a little bit.”
“That’s what I thought. I’ll have to keep giving it to you hard.”
The cocky grin on my face matches the one on his. “Oh, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself involved with. Whatever you’ve got, I can handle it.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Caesar looks proud of himself as he strides out of the living room with his drink, and I’m all too aware of every step he takes, especially the ones that take him sailing right by me. As he goes, his eyes linger on mine. He’s too much, and while Zeph sits in the opposite corner of the room, somehow completely oblivious to the tension in the air and the second meaning behind every word that was just uttered, all I can do is crumble.
I fall onto the couch and reach for my drink, needing a moment to calm my racing heart.
“So,” Zeph says, as I hear his father disappear deeper into the massive house. “You actually down to stay for dinner?”