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I notice that pause before the last word.
He stops and makes a low, almost embarrassed sound deep in his throat.
I glance at him with a smirk. “You were about to say something insulting, weren’t you?”
“I was not,” he insists so firmly that he most definitely was. “Your style suits you. It simply doesn’t suit me for this arrangement.”
“Oh, okay. And if I’m going to be your arm candy, I’ve got to match the rest of your accessories, right?” Laughing, I reach for the door handle. “C’mon. Let’s go make me look like I could actually attract some rich pill like you, and then you can make your big meeting on time.”
The door latch clicks, but before I can push it open, I feel it again—that long, warm hand wrapped around my wrist. The calluses on his fingertips brush my pulse like he’s trying to fan sparks into flame, searing my blood.
I have to stop and remind myself this isn’t real.
Sure, I’ve thought he was hot since the moment I saw him on the plane.
But this man is completely indifferent to me, and as far as he’s concerned, I’m about as attractive as a ruffled legal document.
I’m surprised he hasn’t made me sign anything in blood yet.
When I swallow dryly and look back, he lets me go quickly, like he hadn’t even realized what he was doing.
“Miss Lark?” He brushes his hand lightly against his slacks.
I glare at him. I’ve had enough of this uptight Miss Lark thing.
“Elle,” I correct.
“Miss Lark,” he repeats.
“Elle,” I hiss.
His brows set. I swear to God, he looks like a stubborn bison who’s just stepped onto the highway and won’t move.
My mouth opens again, but he speaks first.
“Eleanor,” he concedes, almost under his breath.
“Nope. That’s not good enough.” I fold my arms over my chest and lift my chin. I’m not going into the store until he says it. “Elle. Say it, August.”
“On one condition.” Another of those long sighs that tells me I’m driving him insane rolls out, and it feels like victory.
“Conditions already? Such a businessman.” Groaning, I flop back against the seat. He’s probably going to tell me to always call him sir or something like that.
Which. Hey. If that’s his kink, I could get into it, but I doubt that’s the case.
“Lay it on me, boss man.” I roll my eyes.
He pauses.
“The ring,” he says softly. “We’ll be seen together in public. You should be wearing it.”
Oh.
Oh, crap.
I’d almost forgotten all about it in my pocket.
I haven’t even tried it on.
