Running From Destiny Read Online Free PDF Page B

about. Heather, she’d better be prepared for a fight, because I’m going to kill her.
    I yan k the door open and no Heather. But The Suit is still here, picking up and throwing away beer and wine bottles. I scan the room and take it all in. “Damn, must have been some party last night.” I say as I spy the trash bag full of glass bottles.
    “Yep, you missed all the fun, especially Spin the Bottle.” He replies w ith a laugh.
    “Ah, no. I missed nothing then. I had a much better time in bed.”
    “Did you now?” His eyes pierced through me.
    “Look, I don’t know who you are or what you want. But it’s time for you to go back to your room. Send Heather back here so we can have a little chat please.” I turn my back to him. I want him to go, but at the same time I don’t. He truly is easy on the eyes, but so far out of my league. Like, really uncomfortable. Never has a man caused me to stutter and lose my train of thought.
    Calm, c ool and collected Ally Sanders. Some might call that Little Goody Two Shoes. I think Adam Ant wrote a song about me, actually. But right now, I’m not having Goody Two Shoes thoughts. Right now, my thoughts are far from good. He stands there with his hands on his hips. His dress pants from last night on, but no shirt and my eyes take a plunge toward the v that dips below his belt.
    Damn he’s hot! Like, should be on the cover of a romance novel hot. That’s the only place I have ever seen a chest like that. He’s taller than I had originally thought, had to be 6’4”, and pure muscle. He must work out.
    I knock my head with the heel of m y hand, of course he works out. Idiot. Seriously, I amaze myself sometimes. He just stands there looking at me. Shit, did I say that out loud? I let out a frustrated growl, but he doesn’t respond to my demand for him to leave, he just stands there. Those green eyes travel from my face, slowly down to my toes and back up to my eyes, causing a shiver to erupt. He laughs. He knows the affect he’s having on me, an affect that no man has ever had on me.
    Arrogant bastard.
    “Have breakfast with me.” He says. He didn’t ask, he simply made a statement. Okay brain, time to work again without screwing up the brain to mouth filter
    “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mister Bentley.”
    “Ahhh, so you do remember my name. And you will have breakfast with me. Then we’ll go kick Heather out of my room and you can proceed with her murder.” He says with amusement.
    “But why? Why would you want to have breakfast with me?” I lower my eyes to the floor and notice my pink fuzzy slipper socks I sleep in. Gosh, he must think I am an immature brat.
    “I need to eat. You need to eat. We’re here together, why not? I’m not asking you to marry me Alexandra, it’s just a meal.” Okay, now I feel really stupid. Of course it is. Just food. Nothing else. I really am an idiot to think he wanted something more.
    More.
    Maybe inside my defective brain, I want more, but I know better though. Damn brain.
    All I can do is nod my head. “Okay, breakfast. Then Heather’s murder will proceed on schedule.” I laugh. He just smiles.
    Shit.
    That isn’t just a smile. It’ s smile. Like he’s won some sort of game. I’m in big trouble because this man is sex on a stick. I’ve seen his type on television and in magazines but never in person. My defective brain knows he’s trouble, but my body is betraying me, and my body has never betrayed me. It’s always been loyal to me.
    But I can’t control it.
    “Go get dressed and I’ll finish up here, then we’ll head downstairs.” Again, he tells me. He doesn’t ask. And I don’t argue.I nod my head and skip , skip? Back into the bedroom and close the door, locking it. I stare at the doorknob. How did he get in here last night?
    I sigh and grab some clothes and head to the shower. As I wait for the water to heat, I stare at myself in the mirror. Really stare. What the hell is he doing here and why