Page 36 of Slumming It

With me?Yeah, likethatwould happen. "Don't flatter yourself."

Her hand dropped, and she made a low sound that might've been a growl. "I'm not flattered. I'm confused."

"Don't be," I said. "You'll be staying in the neighboring room. Alone."

"It doesn't matter," she said. "I still didn't agree to it."

Her left hand was clutching the big manilla envelope, the one containing the agreement. She was holding it down at her side, resting it against her bare thigh. I gave the envelope a long, significant look. "You sure about that?"

She lowered her chin and stared down at the oversized envelope. The seal was clearly broken, which meant that if nothing else, she had given the agreement a look.

But had she signed it?From her expression, the answer was plain enough.

Before she could even think to react, I stepped forward and snatched the envelope from her grip.

This made her sputter. "Hey!"

Stepping back into the doorway, I opened the envelope and extracted the agreement. The document was twenty pages long and filled with all kinds of legal bullshit that would take a team of attorneys hours to dissect.

I flipped through the document until I reached the final page. And there it was, her signature in bold blue ink. Emily Quinn.

Oh, yeah. Her ass was mine.

Chapter 13

Emily

Sitting in the passenger's seat, I stared straight ahead, refusing to show Reese Murdock how much he was getting under my skin.

By now, I was pretty sure that I hated him.

I could say that he had tricked me, but that would be giving him far too much credit. Yes, I'd looked at the agreement, but huddled in the hotel bathroom, I’d felt pressed for time and distracted by the feel of those godawful Daisy Dukes riding up my ass.

They weren'tobscenelyshort, but they were short enough. And the cut wasn't quite right – not formybackside, anyway.

And don’t get me started on the shirt. I wasn't buxom or bouncy by any means, and yet the red flannel fabric was far too tight across my boobs – unless I was willing to unfasten the top three buttons, which I totally wasn't.

Instead, I'd left only the top button open, giving my neck just enough breathing room so I wouldn't choke on all of those insults I'd been wanting to hurl at him.

Jerk.

Bastard.

Trickster.

Again, my thoughts turned to the agreement. It wasn't that Reese Murdock had been so smart. It was that I'd been so very stupid.Reckless, too.

I shouldn't have signed it – not without getting a lawyer of my own to review it first.

Yeah, right.As if I could afford such a thing.

I was still dwelling on this sad reality when my cellphone dinged in my purse for the third time in ten minutes, makingReese Murdock say from the driver's seat, "Ditch it or silence it. Your choice."

Ditch it?

How?

By tossing it out the window?