The Wrong Wife (Morally Grey Billionaires #5)(40)

"You’ve seen the worst of me, and you’re standing—"

Barely.

"—so, you know what to look for."

"I do?"

"Sure." He nods. "You need to find someone who’s as soft as you on the outside but has a spine of steel. Someone who’s adamant and obstinate enough to hold her own and knows when to give in to me."

I feel the blush sweep up my chest, my throat, right up to the roots of my hair. "Was that a compliment?"

He blinks. "I believe it was," he says slowly. There’s surprise in his eyes, which he banks at once. "And to help you in this, you’re going to spend time with me."





22





Knight





"So, she agreed to get to know you better so she can describe you better in order that the right kind of woman will apply for the role?" Adam takes a long drink of water from his bottle.

"That’s the idea, yes." I stretch out my calves, then my thighs, trying to work out the kinks that have formed after that ten-mile-long run along the Thames. It’s a perfect early autumn evening. The light is golden and slanting through the buildings along the bank of the river. It’s almost nine p.m., but it’s light. The days are long enough for me to complete my run and have time to return to my home office and get some work done.

"And she agreed?"

"I didn’t give her a choice."

"Maybe she was happy to spend time with you?" He smirks.

"I doubt it, considering I haven’t exactly been a gentleman with her." Fact is, I don’t want to be a gentleman with her. I only want to be a beast—the kind who throws her down and ruts into her and sinks into her pussy. She brings out that carnal part of me. The part which wants to own her and possess her and fuck her every which way until I’ve spent myself thoroughly. Until the voices in my head shut down and give me some relief from the ever-present babble between my ears.

He lowers his arm, caps his bottle and points it at me. "You, mate, are fooling yourself."

"Eh?" I straighten, then extend my other leg before dipping into it, lengthening the muscles.

"You have a thing for her."

I snort. "Sure I do. She’s curvy, sexy, vivacious. She brings sunshine into any room she walks into. She smells of flowers, and her gait is like that of a dancer. Her glare is shy, her heart is sensitive, and she feels emotions in a way that I’ll never be able to. She’s funny, witty, and cracks me up with her errors."

"You find her mistakes amusing?"

"Of course I do."

He stares at me.

"What?"

"You’re the guy who’d ask your unit to drop down and give you a hundred push-ups if we made a single mistake during our drills."

"She’s not one of my team."

"No, she’s something more."

I pause halfway through my cooling down exercise. "I mean, yeah, she’s my employee."

Adam smirks.

"Shut up, twatface."

"I didn’t say anything."

"It’s what you’re implying."

"And what is that?"

"That she’s—" I hesitate. What? What is she? Is it even important to give a label to whatever is there between us? No, what am I thinking? There’s nothing between us. Nothing. "Nothing." I straighten. "She means nothing to me."

"Oh?" He turns to face me. "So why did you invite her to your home for dinner?"

"So she gets to know me better?" I raise my bottle of water to my mouth.

"So, it’s a date?"

I choke on the water, then spit it out. "Say what?"

"A date—when a man and a woman get to know each other, over a meal—"

"I know what a date is, this"—I gesture to my chest, then to the space in front of me—"is not a date."





"Nice of you to invite me on a date." She flashes a wide smile at me from the doorstep of my penthouse. It’s the day after the conversation with Adam that left me confused and very clear that it is not a date. That’s not why I’d invited her to my home. I’ve had people over— Not since you returned from the mission—and even before, you preferred to meet Declan and Cade at the 7A Club. Which doesn’t mean anything. The only reason I asked her over is so she can get to know me better, so she can write a better profile for me, which will help attract the right kind of woman to become my wife. And I need to get this right. So, the profile needs to be spot on. And that’s the only reason she’s here. That is all.

This is not a date, is what I want to say. Instead, I step aside and usher her in. She brushes past me, and I lean in her wake to soak up her scent. Roses tinged with those sugary notes that make me want to bend her over my lap and dig my teeth into her fleshy thigh assails me. My cock instantly extends. If I look down, I’ll see a tent at my crotch, and fuck me, but how does she have this effect on me every single time I’m in her vicinity?

On the other hand, it’s proof that what they did to me did not affect that part of me… Which is reassuring. Not that I’ve had sex since I returned… I can’t stand the thought of being with anyone else… other than her. Can’t stand the idea of touching anyone else... but her. Fuck, this is crazy. This is not how I envisaged the start to this evening. I managed to avoid her all day by reaching work before her, then shutting myself in my office and asking not to be disturbed.