Into My Arms Read Online Free PDF Page B

Apologize with a witty joke. Go fetch a dish towel, broom, or—
    “Sit, Bethanny.”
    It’s not until that moment that I realize I’ve stood. “If you insist on imitating my parents by using that name, I want to know what yours call you?” I snap. “Aleksander?”
    “Nothing,” he answers without a second of evasion. “They don’t call me anything.”
    “Oh.” I sink back down to the couch, tugging down the hem of my skirt and crossing my heels. “It’s okay. I’m not on speaking terms with mine either.”
    He is quiet so long that I have time to make a careful study of the way his suit jacket is vaguely rumpled and how that thick shock of black hair hangs without falling at the edge of his right temple. At last he stirs, his voice far away. “My mother and father are dead.”
    Oh God, way to blunder into that one. “I’m so sorry.” I stand again, this time determined to clean the broken glass, anything but appear to snoop at his personal life.
    “I don’t wish to talk about them,” he says firmly. “Sit.”
    “Are you always this pushy?”
    “Are you always this jumpy?” His eyes flash and he looks as if he is ready to snarl more, but instead locks his jaw and loosens his tie. “And yes. Pushy is my default. Apologies. Please, sit.”
    I sink back to the couch, knees pressed together. “Okay, back to the business at hand. You said that you, you know, that you…”
    Does that quirk to his mouth mean he enjoys my discomfort?
    “I want to touch you. This request is most irregular and you are under no obligation to comply in order to keep your job. Anytime you wish to leave, call Katya and your departure shall be immediately arranged. If that is the case, you may continue to work for Zavtra Tech as long as your performance remains excellent, and if you prefer to be shifted to another department, that can also be arranged. Tonight is not some cheap attempt at coercion.”
    “Nevertheless”—I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear—“there’s no denying that you hold an awful lot of cards in this deck.”
    He smiles wryly. “Smoke and mirrors.”
    “Down to specifics, then. What kind of touching are we talking about? Hand holding?”
    He ignores my sarcasm, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I have a friend in my employ, a trusted friend—”
    “Brandon Lockhart.” Bran is the fiancé of one of my good friends, Talia, and he also works at Zavtra Tech. He and Z apparently spent a few formative years together at an elite boarding school in Australia.
    “What about Bran? Was this his idea?”
    He inclines his head in assent. “Yesterday, I received some news about my past. Bad news. Lockhart suggested that spending time with you could help.”
    I wait but he doesn’t elaborate. There aren’t many people in the world who can sit as comfortably as Z in total silence.
    At last I can’t take it. “Help with what?”
    “I desire you physically.” He ignores my question, delivering the statement as simply as if he’s telling me that he prefers pepperoni pizza or happens to be an Aries. Except that his gaze has dropped to my breasts, lingering long enough for them to respond, full and hot, my nipples tightening into two aching peaks.
    “You want to have sex?” My track record with guys hasn’t been great. All work and no play makes Beth a dull girl. It’s been a while since I’ve hooked up, and by a while I mean over a year. I’ve become something of a sexual agnostic, not sure I’d ever get laid again.
    “I want to give you pleasure and try to take pleasure in turn.” He lets out a coarse breath, raking a hand through his hair, causing it nothing but further disarray. “I’m almost twenty-five, Bethanny. I have not known the touch of a woman in seven years.”
    I gape in disbelief. “But you are…” Sexy. Rich. Intelligent.
    And a monk?
    “We all have our demons, do we not?” he says in a quiet voice.
    I close my eyes. It never takes much to hear brakes squeal, feel, really feel