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Chapter 10
Atlas
What the hell was I thinking? Atlas lay in his bed. His anger boiled over. How could he have been so stupid? Seeing her on that shaky ladder had made his heart lurch. Why would she do something so risky? Then that attitude, damn, had it ever got his engine revving. No one spoke back to him. Women bent to his will because they knew who he was. All in the hopes they’d become the next Mrs. Atlas Remington. But Jasmine was different. Fuck! He’d basically attacked her.
But she kissed me back. And what a kiss it had been.He’d never in his thirty-five years experienced anything like it.She’d removed his shirt. She’d wanted him too. Until she hadn’t.
What the fuck was he doing? He was supposed to be buying her inn, not getting into her pants. What kind of asshole got involved with a single mother with no intentions of sticking around? And all for a deal. His family would never approve of Jasmine—why was he even thinking about that?
Bzzz. Bzzz.
Atlas pulled his phone out of his pocket and swiped the answer button. “Olli.”
“Hey. How’s your vacation going? Getting into any trouble out there?” his brother asked.
As a matter of fact . . .“Making progress,” he lied. He’d probably just screwed up any chance he’d had.
“Bullshit. You and I both know it’s a lost cause.” Oliver chuckled.
Atlas gritted his teeth. “The more smack you talk, the more I know you’re just worried I’ll win the position.”
“Whatever you say.” Oliver sighed.
“Did you actually have a reason to call me, or did you just want to be a dick?”
“I’m checking on my little brother,” Oliver answered.
“How’s Christina?”
“At the spa for the day.”
“Tell her I said hello,” Atlas said.
“Will do. Oh—and, Atlas?”
“Yeah?”
“When I win the position, I’ll still make you my CFO.” Oliver laughed.
“Asshole.” Atlas ended the phone call.
Soft footsteps padded past the floor outside his room before the door across from his creaked open and shut. His cock twitched and he looked down and shook his head at it. “You’re my problem,” he said to himself. He wanted her, more than he’d wanted anyone else in his life. That was the biggest issue.
He squeezed the bridge of his nose as the pressure built in his chest. He’d worked too long and hard for this to be the end. He was more determined now than ever. One way or another, this inn was going to be his.
Closing his eyes, he relaxed into the pillow. The steady rhythm of the ocean forcing all other thoughts out of his mind as he slept.
Atlas opened his eyes to the hazy evening light, slowly bringing the room into focus. His stomach grumbled. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. 6:30. Sitting up, he rubbed the remaining sleep away. He needed a new plan. But first, he had to apologize to Jasmine if he had any hopes of getting this deal done. Women liked to be wined and dined. He’d invite her to dinner. A business dinner. Not a date. One where he could inquire about her goals and figure out the offer she wouldn’t be able to refuse.
He washed his face and checked in the mirror that he looked presentable before heading downstairs. Women’s voices filtered out from the dining room.
“I told you guys, I can’t have this conversation tonight. I have my meeting, just like every other Wednesday night. That’s why Zoey’s at your house, Remy,” Jasmine said.
He recognized the woman from the café as she spoke. “But you go every week. Surely you can miss one. Tell her, Belle.”
“Her meeting is important.” Belle, assumedly, sided with Jasmine.
He stepped forward, the wooden floor creaking under his foot. Four sets of eyes all focused on him.
