Page 21 of The Billionaire's Fake Wife

7

Sin

That was supposed to have been my proposition. The hell did she come up with that?

I glare at her.

She shuffles her feet.

Are you uncomfortable, little Bird?

My fingers tingle and I shove them into my pocket.

She tips up her chin, "Well?"

"Well, what?"

She twists her fingers in front of her, "Don’t you want to hear about the rest of my proposal?"

Interesting. I am the one normally laying down the conditions. I am the one in charge, who likes to demand, and is never turned down. Not only has she stood up to me since we met; now, she actually wants to lead? I bare my teeth, "Clearly, you are delusional, or plain stupid."

"Clearly." She bites on her lower lip, "But you have to admit you are curious…"

Hmm.

"A teeny tiny bit?" She holds up her forefinger and thumb. Slender fingers tipped with pink nail polish. The woman loves that color.

Bet she also adores candies, flowers and teddy bears. The kind she'd love to receive on Valentine’s Day, right after she’d belted out Karaoke on a drunken night out with her girlfriends. Then shagged the man she took home.

My gut tightens. Interesting. Most females I associate with come well coiffured, long limbed, blonde hair, with designer outfits and high-heeled shoes that have never seen the inside of a tube station. This girl though—I take in her footwear. Chucks?

I blink. She is wearing chucks, with her slimline black skirt that comes to mid-thigh. Why hadn’t I noticed the ridiculous combination of her outfit? Probably because I was too busy staring at her breasts… or is it at her ridiculous pink hair, which really has no place in my boardroom?

Max huffs, then shuffles toward her with his ambling doggy gait.

She doesn’t notice him… Or if she does, she gives no indication. He circles her, sniffs her ankles, then drops down at her feet. His tongue lolls out of his mouth.

I frown. Max can be stubborn, and when he sets his mind on something… Well, nothing, not even me, can dissuade him. I look at my watch, "You have five minutes."

Her gaze widens.

I stalk forward, drop into the seat in the middle of the conference table. "Starting now."

"B…but." Her mouth opens and closes.

"Do you often do that?"

"Wh... what?" She stutters.

"Sound like you are drowning?"

Her cheeks flame. Her blush is quite spectacular, actually. It sears the expanse of her throat, right up to the tips of her ears. Do the other parts of her turn pink too? Would her pert backside show off every single fingerprint of mine? I drum my fingers on my table.

"Well, you were here to pitch an idea, right?"

She nods.

"So give it your best shot." I kick out my legs.