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27
Ryder had sensed a wall up the second he’d stepped off the elevator. Now, taking in her tense posture and closed face, he saw the wall was made of steel.
Just seeing the outline of her head against the couch when he’d walked in had given him a hard-on as stiff as her back. He’d had to grab a beer to settle his dick down, which was another rule she was making him break—drinking on a job.
Ignoring her all day hadn’t done the trick, and even looking at her pinched, cute face wasn’t chilling out his raging hormones. He wanted to bury his cock deep inside her and fuck edging or prolonging anything.
But that was a path to trouble, and trouble with a woman was something he didn’t want, no matter how cool she was. And hot. And sexy.
“Whoa, there, Sugar,” he cautioned, holding her back with his beer hand. “I’m a too tired to fool around, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Bingo. She reacted exactly how he expected her to—like a volcano.
“Oh, so I’m back to being your Sugar. Fine. Just so you know, fuck boy, I didn’t stand up to ‘entice’ you or any bullshit like that. I was just going to grab my bags and do a little studying,” she said, backing up before marching to the bedroom.
He followed her despite his intentions, mesmerized by her tight, round ass. Her whole body was tight and muscular, yet somehow soft. Maybe one more dip in her warmth wouldn’t be too dangerous.
“I’d have thought you had the whole engagement memorized by now,” he said, walking within a few feet of her when she stooped to pick up her bag. She spun, looking startled, before a sarcastic sneer twisted into place.
“Study for the bar exam. I’m sitting it after the engagement,” she muttered.
“The bar,” he repeated, looking her up and down again. She’d look hot in a tight skirt and horn-rimmed glasses. “That’s right. You want to be a lawyer.”
The sneer hardened into something that made him feel a little bad. He wanted to put distance between them by bruising her pride, not hurting her feelings.
“I’m going to be a lawyer,” she hissed. “Maybe it’s time I looked ahead to something real instead of this fucking pretend world full of selfish billionaires.”
“Whoa, how do you know I’m not a selfish billionaire?” he asked. After this job, he’d be one zero away from it.
“Selfish, I can believe. The billionaire part I’m not interested in,” she stated, and used her bag to push past him.
He followed her halfway to the living room, watching her heave her bag onto the couch and rummage through it. She dropped two heavy textbooks on the coffee table and flopped onto the couch.
“I can’t believe you’re not interested in money. At least for yourself. Isn’t that why you want to be a lawyer?” he asked, wandering into her peripheral vision, but not any closer. She’d told him something about her ambition before, but he honestly had been too concerned with getting in her panties to remember it.
“No. The only thing I’m interested in is justice for women and children in a system that favors rich men,” she spit out. “Which… I guess you fall into that category, if that’s what you’re alluding to. Being a billionaire.”
“I’m close,” he admitted, remembering how relentless he’d been in building his business. He hadn’t always been the attentive father he was now.
“Not close enough to find a good family lawyer to get custody,” she said in a hard voice. “Or maybe there’s another reason you couldn’t pay your way to having your son full time?”
Every cell in his body froze. His hand clenched the beer bottle, tempted to throw it at the windows.
“You’d better be careful about what you’re insinuating, little girl,” he muttered.
She sat up straight, but her head tilted slightly, something softening in her eyes. Her mouth parted, but she didn’t speak.
When she didn’t apologize, he realized she was probably scared that she pushed him into anger. She wasn’t wrong.
“You can have the bed,” he told her, draining the last of the beer and striding to the bar to slam the bottle onto the counter. “I’m meeting my team tonight and we’re going to set up our command center at the Spanish Villa.”
He didn’t wait for a comment, just walked into the bedroom and gathered his things. When he walked out, she’d half-turned on the couch, watching him. Her face was blank.
“Once I’ve briefed my team and we’ve secured the Villa, I’ll text you. We’ll set up a command center on one of the villa’s upper floors,” he explained, as he opened the fridge and pulled out all but a single beer. He shoved them and a few food items into his bag and straightened.
She looked the same except for a hand that clenched the back cushion.
“I guess I’ll see you around,” he said, and walked over to the elevator, punching the button.
