Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
I take a sip from my own cup of tea. The liquid is nearly scalding. But it keeps my dick at bay. I’m damned uncomfortable.
“Do you still play? The flute, I mean?”
She sighs. “Not as often as I’d like. I’ll occasionally get a gig playing a wedding or church service. Not much to show for six years of university.”
“It’s got to be a tough industry to break into. Especially in an artsy city like Chicago.”
She nods. “It is. I just… Sometimes I wonder if I should have tried to make it work just a bit longer. I gave it barely a year before giving it up.”
“Do you enjoy nursing?”
She blinks. “Yes. For the most part, I suppose. It’s a steady paycheck, and I’m making a difference in people’s lives.”
I’m not convinced. She sounds the way I would have sounded if I had followed in my family’s footsteps into politics. But I won’t press further. I just met the woman, after all.
“It’s a very noble calling, nursing,” I say. “I hear you guys do all the work while the doctors get all the credit.”
She smiles. “It’s not quite that cut and dried. The doctors do contribute.” She takes another sip of tea. “As much as a solid ten percent on a good day.”
I laugh at that. Alissa is funny, in the dry, British sort of way.
She finishes her cup of tea. “Thank you so much for the cup of tea, Maddox. I should really be getting home.” She looks out the window of the shop. “Goodness. It’s dark outside already.”
“You have to love winter in Chicago,” I say. “Cold, dark, and icy. Makes you wonder why any of us choose to brave it year after year.”
She places her teacup back on the tray and looks at me with warm eyes. “I suppose it’s the people, Maddox.”
And in that moment, it takes everything in my body not to grab her, strip her naked, and fuck her silly right on the floor of the shop. Customers be damned, passersby be damned, my family name—if it’s even worth anything now—certainly be damned…
But I don’t. I can tell that Alissa isn’t that type of girl. At least, not on the first meeting.
I can get her there.
“May I offer you a ride home?” I ask. “It’s past closing time anyway.”
She grabs her jacket from the back of the armchair she was sitting in and puts it on. “I couldn’t ask that of you, Maddox.”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering. And it’s no problem. Do you live around here?”
“Off of Wilson and Clark, but I really—”
I hold up my hand. “Please. I couldn’t in good conscience allow a young woman to walk home alone in the dark. Wilson and Clark is a five-minute drive from here tops.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “And you promise you won’t try to abduct me and keep me tied up to a bed in your basement?”
I flash her a smile. “I’ll try my best.”
3
ALISSA
Goodness, this man is charming. And so ruggedly handsome, ruggedly beautiful even. Dark hair, gorgeous hazel eyes, a sculpted jawline…and the slightest air of danger, but not in a way that makes me feel unsafe.
And of course he’s impeccably dressed.
All I did was walk into his shop. I didn’t even buy anything, and he made me tea and is now offering me a ride home.
I look out the window. It is dark. “It’s very kind of you to offer. If you’re sure it isn’t too much trouble…”
He shakes his head. “No trouble at all, Alissa.” He grabs his fedora from under the cash register, puts on a Burberry scarf and an olive overcoat, walks to the front door, and opens it for me. “After you. My car is parked behind the building.”
I walk out, bracing my body as the chill hits me.
Maddox closes the door behind me and locks up. He turns to me. “I realize asking you to follow me down the alleyway to where my car is parked might seem a bit sketchy, so if you’re more comfortable waiting out front for me to pull out, I’ll be back in a moment.”
Nothing about this man makes me uncomfortable, but it is probably prudent not to follow him down an alley after dark. “Thank you. I’ll wait out front.” I shiver slightly. “Please be quick.”
He nods. “Of course, Alissa.” He disappears down the alleyway and a moment later pulls out in a car that I can only describe as something that would belong to a Rockefeller. It has a long, elegant body with a polished black exterior. At its front, a chrome-accented grille and a hood ornament resembling an angel catch the light from the nearby streetlamps. Narrow tailfins frame the rear of the vehicle.
He parks the car in front of the shop, gets out, and wordlessly opens the passenger-side door for me.