Talking Dirty with the CEO Read Online Free PDF Page B

I’ll come home with you.”
    The look on his face changed, his smile taking her breath away. “I was hoping you’d say that. So what’s your name? Or do I keep using your Naughtygirl handle?”
    Definitely she wanted to keep being Naughtygirl. Being Christie seemed kind of lame right at this point in time. And tonight was her night to be naughty. As naughty as she dared. “I prefer the handle, if you don’t mind.”
    “I don’t.” His gaze lingered on her mouth. “Every girl should be naughty at least once.”
    Exhilaration fizzed in her blood. “What about you? Or should I keep calling you Studman?”
    He laughed. “No, please don’t. I’m Joseph.”
    “Oh, that’s better than Studman.”
    “Anything’s better than Studman.”
    “This is true.” She wanted to touch him. Touch him the way he’d touched her. And why shouldn’t she? Naughtygirl wouldn’t hesitate. She reached up and touched his stubble-roughened cheek. “But you kind of do look Studman-like. I think it’s the beard.” His skin felt warm, whiskers rough against her fingers “It’s very…” Her breathing faltered.
    Oh God. You’re touching him. Actually touching him.
    The look in his eyes blazed. But he didn’t move. “Manly?”
    “Yes,” she murmured, unable to take her hand away. “And also quite studly.”
    “Studly isn’t a word.”
    “It should be.”
    At that point her mobile burst into song. A stupid tinny version of “Evil on the Rise” by her favorite metal band, Dead Friends . Great. Talk about a mood killer.
    Flushing, Christie dropped her hand and turned away, digging in her bag. “God, sorry,” she muttered, hauling out the phone and glaring at the screen. Then stopped glaring when it turned out to be a text from Marisa.

    I met a friend who trapped me with a cosmopolitan. Please tell me you’re okay.

    “I, um, have to answer this,” she said and quickly typed back a response.

    Am fine. Have located Studman. All okay. We’re going out on a date. I’ll text you if I need you.

    Then she switched her phone to mute and shoved it right down into the bottom of her bag.
    “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”
    …
    Joseph’s apartment was in one of the ridiculously expensive buildings that lined Auckland’s harbor, only a brief walk away from the bar. And it was the most incredible place she’d ever seen. All white, curved walls, and vast windows that gave stunning views out onto the harbor. With minimalist furniture that looked very expensive. Not to mention uncomfortable. The cheerful clutter of her own apartment looked like a garbage dump in comparison.
    She stood in the lounge gazing around wide-eyed while Joseph disappeared into the kitchen to get drinks. There were paintings on the wall, abstracts mostly, but one she recognized. It looked like one by New Zealand’s foremost painter, and his paintings were worth close to a million dollars. She edged up to it, not wanting to get too close in case breathing on it was a bad thing. It was an original, not a print. Obviously Joseph-Whoever-He-Was wasn’t short of money.
    She glanced in the direction of the kitchen. So who in fact was he? He’d seemed kind of familiar in some way though she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. Then again, did she really want to know? Finding out who he was would shatter the whole anonymity thing they had going on here, and she didn’t want to do that.
    It was nice being Naughtygirl. Easier somehow. Meant she didn’t have to talk about herself, and let’s face it, that was a relief. People either got her interest in gadgets and computers or they didn’t. And when they didn’t, they really didn’t. Plus she’d also have to confess that this date was research for an article on dating and she didn’t want to have to do that, either.
    It’s not research now, though, is it?
    No, it wasn’t. She wasn’t here for just for Ben anymore. She was here for herself, too.
    Taking another scan around the apartment, her