Page 9 of Zane's Rebel


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“So, why am I not fired yet?”

“Been busy,” I mumble.

“Hopefully not protesting your family’s company. I’m not sure how that’d go over since you work for them now,” he says conversationally. “I think you’ve just been telling yourself you’ve been busy.”

“No. I’ve definitely been busy. Lots to do. Whole lists of things,” I say, nodding my head like he can actually see me.

“Good. Then you need a break. Meet me at the Broadway Steakhouse at six,” he says. “We’ll discuss all the reasons you haven’t fired me yet. Like the things I know about Jimmy Gatlin that you don’t know.”

“What do you know that I don’t know?” I demand, my curiosity officially piqued.

“Nu-uh, little rebel,” he says, chuckling. “I’m not that easy. If you want to know what I know, you have to wine and dine me first. Broadway Steakhouse. Six o’clock.”

He hangs up before I can tell him that I am not going to dinner with him. I gape at my phone, caught between the urge to call him back and give him a piece of my mind and the urge to laugh like a crazy person.

Maybe strait-laced Zane Montoya isn’t so strait-laced, after all. He’s a bossy, calculating brute. And I do not find that the least bit sexy. Nope. Not at all.

“Great,” I whisper-groan. “I’m going to dinner with my lawyer. And then I'm firing him.”

CHAPTERFOUR

ZANE

“Zane Montoya, I have a six o’clock reservation,” I tell the smiling hostess. “I have an appointment meeting me here, so I’ll wait at the bar until she arrives.” I stroll over to the bar and order a beer before sitting on a barstool that faces the large bank of windows lining the front of the restaurant.

I’m fucking shocked my little rebel agreed to this dinner. I’d actually been making plans to kidnap Autumn when she agreed to meet me. Over the past two days, I’ve gotten a grip on my emotions while I researched her case. Don’t get me wrong, there’s no way I’ll ever let her get away from me, but my analytical mind has switched gears. I’m going to go about this like the mature, educated man I was before meeting her.

Through my research, I learned a lot about Autumn. Her tough outer shell hides a softhearted woman who’s determined to control her own destiny. I’m willing to let her call the shots in our relationship, as long as she doesn’t try to escape from me. That’s where I draw the line.

Movement on the sidewalk catches my eye and I glance over. A laugh bubbles up my throat and I almost choke on my sip of beer. The little rebel is in rare form tonight. My cock turns to stone in my pants as I watch the show in front of the restaurant. Autumn walks up to the front door before pulling her hand back as if she’s been burned. For a few moments, she seems to be having an entire conversation with herself. While she continues her debate, I let my eyes roam over her luscious body. I’m not sure I like the thought of any other men seeing her in the tight black skirt and white silky blouse. What should be a plain, utilitarian outfit is anything but on my curvy little rebel.

When she does a quick spin, the slit running up the side of her leg separates, giving me a quick view of her silky thigh. Oh, fuck no. My inner caveman wakes up and roars, wanting to keep the sight of her just for me while my cock is enjoying the fucking show.

My bipolar thoughts are getting fucking annoying. I see the indecision on her face and decide to step in before she manages to convince herself to run off. I rush out the front door and wrap my hand around her elbow. “Trying to run out on me?” I whisper in her ear before leaning down to place a soft kiss on her cheek. When my lips meet her silky skin, I feel an explosion of desire blast through my soul.

“I think I left my curling iron on,” she growls and attempts to step back, but I wrap my arm around her curvy waist to keep her from fleeing. “I need to run home and check.”

It’s not the most original excuse. “And you can wash your hair while you’re there?” I place my hand at the base of the little rebel’s spine and lead her into the Broadway Steakhouse before she’s able to escape.

“Are you saying my hair is dirty?” Her eyes flash the fire I’ve come to crave. I reach for her soft hand and hold it tight.

“No, I’m saying you’re trying to talk yourself out of having dinner with me, and I’m not letting you get away with it.” I signal the hostess before practically dragging my uncooperative little rebel through the crowded restaurant.

“But…” she sputters and tugs on my hand, but I ignore her feeble attempts.

I point to the booth. “Slide your little ass in before I whip you in front of everyone in this restaurant.” Her chocolate eyes round while her sweet lips open and close soundlessly. I reach under her chin and lift, closing her mouth. “Now,” I add and watch her flounce into the leather booth. The hostess makes her escape while I’m watching my girl slide to the far end.

“Caveman,” my little rebel hisses under her breath.

“Trouble,” I return and slide in until my thigh is touching hers. “Now, what would you like to drink?”

“Something strong,” Autumn hisses at me before looking up to smile at the waiter who just walked up to the table. A red haze moves across my vision as I watch her ask him sweetly, “I’d like a Jack and Coke with extra Jack.”

“I’ll have the same.” I glare at the fucker until he gets the idea and disappears.

“You have to stop freaking threatening to spank me,” she grumbles and attempts to pull her hand away, but I’m too fast. I lace our fingers together and bring them to my lips. “And stop doing that. You’re my lawyer. L-A-W-Y-E-R.” She spells the word out adorably.

“Stop giving me reasons to spank you,” I tell her as the waiter returns to place our drinks on the table.

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