Training Her Curves - Geneva (A BBW Billionaire Domination and Submission Romance) Read Online Free PDF

embarrassed me. As furious as I had been at Dylan, as horrified as I had been reading the autopsy report or up on the roof, there were many moments since my arrival at the hotel when my body had responded positively to Dylan's presence.
    Hell, it was responding to the memories as I sat there on the toilet trying to urge my bladder to relax and spill its contents.
    His hands on me in the elevator...
    His kisses as he lured me onto the rooftop...
    That demonically beautiful face of his as he taunted me from the crumbling edge of the building...
    The way he had held me after I fainted while he still thought me unconscious.
    Sighing, I gave up trying to pee, wiped the moisture that had reformed between my labia, and left the stall. Turning the water on to wash my hands, I paused as I reached for the soap dispenser.
    My palm had an almost microscopic dot of dried blood on it. I scratched at the dot, fresh blood emerging from the pinprick. There was no other abrasion on the skin and my mind puzzled over how I could have gotten just the small hole when I fainted.
    Not when I fainted, I realized. I had injured the area when I struck my open palm against Dylan's chest. I had hit him near the bottom of his breast pocket -- the same one I had twice seen him running his fingers against while we were fighting with each other, first in the conference room and then again right before I took the elevator down from the roof.
    Quickly, I finished cleaning my hands. Going down the hallway, I saw Riona out of the conference room talking to Yannick. He was writing something down. She called to me right before I could turn into the conference room.
    "Does a grilled chicken and cheddar on toasted bread sound good for lunch?"
    My body gravitating toward the door, I managed a small nod.
    "Salad?"
    Another nod.
    "Tea?"
    I swallowed a frustrated groan before it could escape me. My gaze cut toward the conference table. Dylan had left with his briefcase, but he had forgotten his jacket. It would take only a few seconds after dismissing Yannick before Riona was back in the room.
    "Water will do," I blurted. "Whatever dressing you're getting is fine with me."
    I disappeared into the room before she could ask yet another question. I power walked to the chair and gingerly pushed my hand into the pocket. I felt another small prick and then my fingers closed around the object.
    Pulling it out, I wanted to faint all over again.
    The gladioli brooch winked at me. He had tried to give it back to me that night in Miami, I had left it in the room when I fled to Boston. He had saved it, carried it with him, even brought it to a country he didn't even expect me to be in. And twice today he had subconsciously reached for it while we quarreled.
    Tears brimming, I shoved the pin into the pocket and moved to stare out the window until I knew I could look at Riona when she returned without any trace of the pain I felt.
    ********************
    Sometimes I thought of life as a river that pulled me along without caring whether I knew how to swim or not. After finding the brooch in Dylan's pocket, I could have used a flotation ring strapped to each arm.
    The river didn't care. Its current swept me further downstream, dragging me over sharp rocks, shoving me underwater. Trying to dam my emotions only made things rougher, so I decided to follow the flow -- once I had a free, private moment to arrange things.
    I muddled my way through lunch, deflecting Riona's more personal questions and re-focusing her on the folders and anything in them that had other Eastern European connections. Suppliers, staff, more guests, financing, anything.
    Mishka came in soon after we finished eating. His expression was grim but he would not explain beyond a few words. His accent was unusually thick as he spoke, a clear sign that the afternoon's discovery was bothering him.
    "Some of these are very bad men," he said. "Dylan wants you both back in the States, jet leaves tomorrow. He will not let you