Page 132 of The Billionaire's Fake Wife

"So, if you think this gives you an edge—"

"God forbid," I look skywards, "anyone try to show up Mr. Big Bad himself."

"Cute."

"What?"

"Your nickname for me."

"Not a nickname, you perv."

"But you enjoy that part of me so much."

The blood rushes to my face. He peruses my features and his eyes gleam. "Why I do believe, my darling, that was a blush."

"So, sue me." I blow out a breath, then drop into the chair. A burn sears my bottom and I jump up. "Ow!"

"What’s wrong?" His brow clears. "I see."

"You know nothing, Jon Snow."

"Even I know that’s from Game of Thrones… That was too easy. You're slipping, Bird. Unless—" he frowns, then straightens, "Guess, your butt must really hurt, huh?"

"Thanks for figuring that out, genius."

I grip the edge of the desk, look to the right, the left, where there’s a rug, the kind used for pets, in the corner. Strange, had it been there the last time I came in here? Of course, I’d been distracted then.

He stalks to the door, locks it.

"What are you doing?"

“Making sure you’re okay.”

"Of course, I am. I came here, didn’t I?"

"Hmm." He prowls closer. His big body blocks out the sight of the room, draws in all the oxygen in the space. I try to breathe and my lungs seize.

He pauses in front of me. "Turn around."

"What?"

“So I can check your behind."

"You did it already last night." My cheeks flame.

Damn it, why does his proximity reduce me to a spineless blushing female?I am better than this. I don’t need him. I don’t need a knight to ride in on his white horse and save me—which, by the way, he’s not. Though he probably has many Arabians in his stables—

"Thirteen."

"What?"

"Arabians, and they are all white."

My jaw drops. "What the—did you read my mind? You can’t read thoughts, can you?" I frown. "Is that how you win in business, you have a secret ESP-ish instinc—"

"Stop. Bird. Your expressions are way too easy to read." He laughs. His entire face lights up. His indigo eyes lighten until they are almost sky blue. Something hot stabs in my chest.

He’s a 100% obnoxious-as-hell, pompous prick… but damn, he’s a magnificent, utterly irresistible one, who somehow, somewhere, perhaps, has a flicker of humanness hidden deep inside. Of course, you have to look for it with a blow torch… But hey, I’ve never backed down from a challenge, huh?