The Art of Stealing Kisses (Stealing Hearts Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

me.
    “Grace,
wait.”
    I
look up to see St. Clair standing, beckoning me closer. “I’d
like you to meet Amanda Leighton.”
The woman
nods at me. “She’s
a journalist who is…”
    He
pauses and my mind fills in the blank with a million gut-wrenching
options as I stand there with a smile plastered on my face. …going
to be my wife …fucking
my brains out later this evening since you said no …your
replacement in every way.
    Amanda
finishes for him. “Stealing
all his time, I’m
afraid. I’m
writing a feature profile for Forbes, about your boss.”
    “I
tried to get out of it, but she’s
very persuasive,” St.
Clair grins.
    I
bet she is.
    I
still feel awkward, like I interrupted something I shouldn’t
have. “I’ll
let you get back to your interview, then.”
    “No,
it’s
fine. We were just wrapping up,” he
says as Amanda picks up her purse.
    “Nice
to meet you,” she
says to me, with a surprisingly genuine smile. “I
was meaning to tell you, I just loved your choices for the hospital
wing. So bold.”
    “Um,
thanks.”
    To
St. Clair she says, “Pick
up your phone if I call for follow up questions, okay? No more phone
tag.”
    “Done,”
he says. She
kisses his cheek and then she’s
out the door, her perfectly perky ass bouncing as she exits. St.
Clair looks at me and smiles his quiet smile, the one the cameras and
reporters don’t
get to see. “So
what can I do for you?”
    My
stomach flip flops, but I remind myself to be strong, to resist his
many, many charms. “This
won’t
take long, I wanted to talk to you about a—”
    “Have
you eaten lunch?”
he interrupts.
    “Not
yet, but—”
    “I’ve
barely seen you since the gala,” he
says, reaching for his jacket. “Let’s
catch up over sandwiches. It’s
lunch hour anyway and I want to hear all about what you’re
working on now.”
    My
heart sinks. So much for keeping things in the office. How can I say
no?
     
    St.
Clair picks up some food from a deli and then takes me to a small
museum nearby that I’ve
never seen before: hidden in a townhouse on a side street away from
the rest of the office buildings.
    “I
don’t
think we’re
allowed—”
I start, glancing at the big signs warning us not to bring in food or
drink.
    “Don't
worry about it. There’s
no one else here.”
St. Clair leads me to a bench in one of the gallery rooms.
    “What
about the guards?”
    “Who,
Kevin?” St.
Clair winks at the uniformed guard standing silently in the corner.
“I
do this all the time. It’s
one of my favorite lunch spots. Peaceful.”
    I
study him. “You’re
not much for following rules, are you?”
    “Where’s
the fun in that?” He
grins.
    “What
about the consequences?”
I ask, thinking of all the times I tried to misbehave, and only got
into trouble.
    “If
you lived your life thinking about the worst that might happen, you’d
never leave the house. Sure, I might like to test the limits
sometimes, but I’m
always smart. Careful.”
    “I
didn’t
say you weren’t.”
I glance at
the guard as St. Clair begins to unwrap his sandwich. Kevin barely
glances over at us, so I follow St. Clair’s
lead, the paper making a crackling noise that echoes off the walls. I
feel a little excitement at doing something against the rules and
can’t
help a little smile. “You’re
a bad influence,” I
tease.
    St
Clair laughs. “We’ll
make a risk-taker of you yet.”
    “Is
that how you’ve
become so successful?” I
ask, curious. “Breaking
the rules?”
    “Maybe.
I just grew up with so many rules and limitations. Everyone at school
and in my family wanted people to fit into nice little boxes with
easy labels. No one was allowed to be themselves, or stray from the
lines.”
    I
take a bite of my turkey and avocado and wait to see if he’ll
say more, but St. Clair seems to be staring off into someplace in his
memory. His life is so far removed from mine, it’s
fascinating. I may not have had as much time with my mom as I wanted,
but