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“When can I see you?” he veers topics and cuts right to the chase.
“I don't think it's a good idea—" I begin, but he cuts me off.
“Bullshit. We both felt the way you melted against me yesterday. You want me too, Faith. Admit it.”
I want to deny it, but it would be a lie. He's right. My body does want him, but my mind has a million reasons why it wouldn't be a good idea.
“Stop fighting this,” he croons at me when I’m silent. “Is it me you’re so frightened of?”
“I'm not scared of anything,” I deny.
“Don't play games with me, Faith.” His voice is stern, and I choke out an incredulous laugh. Just who the hell does this guy think he is?
“Warren,” I say his name sarcastically, pissed off beyond measure now. “You might be the richest guy in the city, and I know that “no” is a word you probably haven’t heard much in your pampered life, but the answer is no. I'm not interested. Leave me alone.”
I end the call, proud of myself for being so firm and standing my ground.
My phone immediately starts ringing again.
I turn it off, but my hands are shaking, and there's a sinking feeling in my stomach that feels suspiciously like disappointment, but I brush it off.
I did the right thing. At the end of the day, I have to be smart and practical. I can't let my hormones and emotions rule me. I give myself a mental pat on the back for shutting all this down before it has a chance to go even further.
Now I can truly push Warren Foxworth and his smoldering blue eyes out of my mind and focus on my career.
It’s really for the best.
ChapterFive
Warren
Faith is killing me.She won't answer my texts or phone calls, and she's returning every gift I send her.
I'm still stuck jacking off to photos of her every day while I remember the way she felt in my arms and how sweet her lips tasted. Maybe I'm a spoiled bastard because she's right. I'm not used to hearing the word “no”—especially when it's something that I desperately want, and I’ve never wanted anything as desperately as I do my little angel.
It gets so bad that I end up doing away with my private investigator and head out to follow her myself one day. I need to see her in the flesh.
I only make it halfway through the day before I catch her alone and corner her. I know the schedules of all the girls who live in her house, so I know that none of them are home. That's why whenever Faith unlocks her door, I suddenly step out of the shadows and come up behind her.
“Faith,” I say her name gently, trying not to startle her too much.
She jumps anyway, turning to me with a squeal. “What are you doing here?”
“Why do you keep returning my gifts?” I fire back a question of my own.
She sighs and looks down. I take a step toward her, deeply inhaling her sweet scent. “Why won't you answer my texts or my calls?”
Her eyes flick up to me before she looks away again.
I'm having none of that, though. Her silence has tortured me all week, and now that I finally have a moment with her, I'm not going to waste it. I realize I'm being a pushy bastard, but I have a sixth sense about things. I always follow my gut. It's how I'm able to know when an acquisition is a good idea and when we should pass on it. It’s what makes me a good businessman.
And what I'm sensing right now is that Faith doesn't really mean it when she tells me she's not interested. I've never been one of those guys who believes that no means yes and yes means no, but I can read Faith. It’s in her body language, her face, her eyes.
I can see the way she trembles, but it's not fear I'm sensing from her. Not fear ofmeanyway.
I finally reach out and tip her chin up to me, stroking my thumb along her petal-soft cheek. Those hazel eyes gut me all over again. I think they always will. Each time they look into mine I feel my world tilt on its axis.
“Do you know I've barely slept a wink all week thinking about you?” I confess to her.
