Butterfly Read Online Free PDF

bumper-to-bumper traffic while horns from frustrated motorists blared loudly, adding to the cacophony of sounds in the city that never slept. He felt a sinking feeling the pit of his stomach when he realized Seneca hadn’t waited as she’d promised.
    Turning, he beckoned the doorman. “Please hail me a cab.”
    “Mr. Kingston, Miss Houston is waiting in the car for you,” said someone behind him.
    Phillip smiled. “I guess I won’t need that taxi,” he told the doorman. Following the driver, he walked several feet to a black Lincoln town car. The driver opened the rear door and he ducked his head to slide onto the leather seat beside Seneca.
    The light from the small lamp positioned behind the rear seat cast a warm glow over Seneca’s face. “What took you so long?” she asked, smiling.
    “Booth wanted to talk,” Phillip said, stretching out his legs until he found a comfortable position.
    “Didn’t you tell him you had to meet someone?”
    Phillip gave Seneca a lengthy stare. “When Booth Gordon wants to talk you usually acquiesce.”
    “Are you saying that when Booth Gordon speaks, everyone listens?”
    “Only those who count on him for their next paycheck,” he confirmed.
    Seneca digested this information. First Mitchell and now Phillip had made veiled warnings about the agent. She wondered, for the first time, whether she was getting into some thing she wouldn’t be able to control. If you give me absolutecontrol of your career I will make you a bigger supermodel than any that has come before you.
    She didn’t know why his prediction was branded on her brain like a permanent tattoo. Seneca wanted to up the ante on her career, but would it be at the cost of losing her independence? Independence and control were paramount to her. All her life she’d had to submit to the will of a controlling and domineering mother—a woman who never told her children that she loved them, a woman who barked orders and commands like a drill sergeant and a woman who complained every day of her life.
    “Where do you want to go to talk, Phillip?”
    “What about your place?”
    Seneca shook her head. “It can’t be my place.” There was no way she was going to invite a man to her home within hours of meeting him for the first time—even if that man was Phillip Kingston.
    “Then we’ll go to my place.”
    “Where do you live?” she asked.
    “I’m staying at the Ritz-Carlton in Battery Park. We can hang out in the lobby or the club lounge.”
    Seneca was certain he could hear her sigh of relief. One thing she didn’t want to do was spend her time with him fighting off his physical advances. “That sounds good to me.”
    Leaning forward on his seat, Phillip gave the driver the name and location of his hotel, then settled back to enjoy the passing landscape and the hypnotic fragrance of Seneca’s perfume. He made certain to keep a comfortable distance between them when he’d wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her. Reaching over, he grasped her hand, holding it protectively. She turned to look at him, smiling. He returned her smile and then stared out the side window as the driver maneuvered smoothly into southbound traffic.
     
    Phillip surreptitiously slipped the driver several large bills when he exited the car, asking that he wait around indefinitely. The man palmed the money, nodding. “Just have Miss Houston call me when she’s ready.”
    Phillip extended his hand, assisting Seneca out of the car, his gaze lingering on her long, bare legs. His breath caught in his lungs when he fantasized about having her legs around his waist—or better yet, around his neck. He didn’t know what it was about the model, but just looking at her sent his libido into overdrive. She was approachable, yet a part of her remained aloof. And there was a sophistication about her not usually common in someone as young as she.
    He was twenty-six, and there were times Phillip felt years older. He’d been a first-round draft