Loving the Bastard Read Online Free PDF Page B

everything.”
    He’d barked a laugh. “I have no doubt you’d do well in some backwoods town.”
    “I do well in the city, but I remember where I came from. Were you born here?” She’d slipped the question in easily while his guard was down, trying desperately to connect with him on some level.
    “No. I was raised in New York City, then moved to Los Angeles. I could have stayed in L.A. when my father moved us to Louisville, but with him opening up another branch of our bank, I wanted to be where the action was.”
    “Does it always come back to the bank, then?”
    He’d held her gaze for a moment. “Always.”
    “Up until my father made it big in the real estate business, we lived modestly. Comfortably, but there were times we had to watch the finances. Before my mom died, she taught me how to use what I had to make a tasty, filling meal.”
    “You know you don’t have to do that now.” He hesitated before adding, “Though, I’m willing to admit I enjoyed this one very much.”
    He had, in fact, devoured his meal, going for seconds before he’d realized it. When he did, he’d stopped, going completely still, looking at his plate then back up at Zeta. She hadn’t been able to suppress her smug grin.
    “Well, get used to it. This is one of those things I want you to do if I’m going through with this ridiculous plan.”
    “What? Eat grease and flour every night?” He tried a snort, but Zeta caught him glancing at the gravy bowl next to the bacon.
    “No, eating dinner together.”
    “Easy enough. We can go out.” That irritating arrogance was firmly back in place.
    “Maybe on the weekends, but through the week, we eat here. I’ll cook. You’ll help. We’ll talk. You know, pretend to be all domestic and shit. Like a real family.”
    “My parents never did any of that.”
    “If they had, maybe they’d still be together and your view of life wouldn’t be so warped.” She’d raised an eyebrow, daring him to refute her observation.
    “Perhaps. But I doubt I’ll be doing this much.”
    “Yes, you will,” she’d fired back without hesitation. “If for no other reason than to see what I’ll come up with next.”
    After that, she got him to sit on the couch with her. He didn’t opened up much, but Maximilian obviously had no idea how he’d gotten there or why he stayed. Zeta talked about her kids at the Y, anticipating the next day. Telling him what to expect. He had tried to scoff, but she saw him swallow nervously. He tried several times to steer the conversation away from the subject of her going to the Y the next day, but she was persistent. Apparently, Maximilian was a bit wary of teenagers. Good. Another shove outside his comfort zone.
    That night, her dreams had been filled of images of the sexy, exasperating Maximilian. Zeta still wasn’t sure there was anything redeemable about him but she was resolved to try. There was pain inside him. Pain buried so deep, she wasn’t even certain he realized it. He covered it with the whole facade of the merciless bastard, but the more she was around him, the more little pieces of himself he let escape, the less she was convinced he really felt the way he said he did. About women. About marriage. About love. Did she want to be the focus of his attention if he ever let down his guard long enough to try getting to know a woman? No. He might be attractive and devastatingly sexy, but he had no place in her life.
    Now, she sat on the edge of the bed, trying to rub the sleep from her eyes. Teenagers on little to no sleep? Yeah, not the best of ideas. But, like she’d told Maximilian the day before, she never missed a session at the Y, and she wasn’t about to start now.
    Hastily, she showered and dressed, still feeling strung out. A quick breakfast of a scrambled egg sandwich and a glass of orange juice helped. A cup of coffee was even better.
    There was a knock at the door before it opened. Maximilian stepped in wearing his usual tailored suit. Zeta