Destination Connelly Read Online Free PDF Page B

is one point I’d like to discuss, now that you bring it up,” I retort, turning my body toward his.
    I don’t miss the slow gander of his eyes down my frame. I suddenly wish I’d worn more than a low-cut blouse and a tight pencil skirt that’s hitting me midthigh. Like perhaps a full coat of armor. But I’m not even sure that would have stopped the heat of his gaze from penetrating my skin like warm, thick dark chocolate. It makes me feel hungry.
    Very, very hungry.
    For moments, I can think of nothing else but scraping my teeth over his sexy-as-sin scruff. I want to run my fingers through his short jet-black locks and use a fistful as leverage to pull him to my waiting mouth, reacquainting my tongue to the taste of his. Thoughts of him demanding everyone to leave so he can bend me over this long oak table and have his wicked way with me runs on a distracting loop.
    I yearn to see for myself if he is as fit and toned underneath his tailored, no doubt custom-made, impeccable charcoal suit as it appears. The stark white of his dress shirt sets off the tanned flesh that is decorated in a light dusting of dark hair peeking through the top two buttons he’s so generously left undone.
    Shit, that’s new.
    “Go on,” he cajoles with a slight wave of his hand, a smug smirk now turning one corner of his mouth. He leans back, places his elbows on the chair arms, and laces his fingers together, resting them on his abdomen. Crossing one leg over the other, he looks very much like the successful executive he is. And he knows exactly how he’s affecting me.
    Bastard.
    Well, two can play this game and this is a game I play very, very well. I slowly uncross and recross my long, pale, toned legs. For a moment, his eyes snap to them and flare.
    Gotcha.
    “Do you plan to close the Cincinnati office?” I ask, trying to hold in my own smile at the small victory I feel.
    He looks a little surprised at my question before responding, “There are no immediate plans for office consolidation, no.”
    I think about his answer for a minute, contemplating my options. If that’s true, then maybe there’s a sliver of hope I can make this work. I could live here, working for his company and further my career until I can find a better position at a competitor. At least then we wouldn’t have to be in the same building. Maybe I’d just have to see him at the occasional holiday party. I could probably make that work and still manage to keep my private life private.
    Yes, this may be a solution.
    “Then I don’t understand the requirement to relocate to Chicago. If you don’t plan to close the office, I could continue to work from here instead of having to uproot my life, leaving my home and my… friends .”
    I don’t miss the flare of his nostrils at the mention of the word “friends.” A bigger part of me than I want to admit revels in the idea he’s jealous a man may be in my life. I also didn’t miss the glance at my left ring finger when I walked through the door earlier. He’s so glaringly overt it’s almost laughable.
    “I require all of my executives to be located at headquarters, which is in Chicago. It’s a lovely city.” He starts casually swinging his foot back and forth, intimating he’s already bored with this conversation. I don’t miss the fact that his black, shiny loafers probably cost more than I make in a month.
    My eyes find his again and I let my lips tilt in victory. “Well, that’s solved then. I’m not an executive. I’m just a recruiter.”
    At this juncture, I should be leaning slightly forward, but not too much that I seem aggressive. I should have my arms draped over the lifts of my chair, not closed in front of me. My face should be just warm enough so that I appear open and agreeable.
    I should be, but I’m not. I’m not agreeable and I’m not open. Instead, I lean back in my chair and cross my arms. It pisses me off he’s reduced me to acting like a petulant child. Crossing your arms