Home For The Holidays - Jordan Silver Page 0,16

eyes shifted as I moved to get up from my seat, and I almost screamed out loud and barely refrained in time from recoiling in shock. No way, there’s no way that that’s what I think it is. I looked up at him only to find him looking at me with a knowing look on his face.

I know he saw me eyeballing his dick. My face grew hot and red, and I slithered to my feet, feeling like a perv. He made a choking sound like he was stifling a laugh, and I gave him a mean side-eye, which he missed because he kept his head straight. Cocky ass! If he releases that smirk, I just might slug him.

I was so confused by what I thought I saw in his pants that I missed whatever it was he said to his assistant as he ushered me out of his office. I came to my senses, though, when the elevator that he’d led me into started going up. No matter what else I learned about him today, I can’t forget that he almost married Tessa once. He might have some shit wrong with him, too, though I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt since he came to his damn senses and called it off.

“Hey, where are we going?” I tried tugging my hand out of his, and he had the nerve to hold on tighter before lifting my fingers to his lips. My eyes followed the movement, almost mesmerized before I caught myself. “I’m sure since you went digging your nose in my shit, you know what I do every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday night from nine to eleven.”

“Yeah, about that, why Krav Maga?”

“Because I love the element of surprise! Plus, my dad made it one of the prerequisites for me going away to college.”

“He didn’t!” He laughed, and there was this almost irresistible sparkle in his eyes that made me want to jump him.

“So, how long have you been doing it?

“Eight years, hey, how did we get on this topic?”

“You brought it up, beauty.”

“No, I distinctly remember asking you where you were taking me.” The elevator doors slid open onto what looked like a residential vestibule, and I know for a fact that there are no restaurants in this building.

“Lunch, didn’t you hear me down there?”

“Yes, but there are no restaurants in this building; I checked, the only thing in this building since you bought it is your suite of offices for you and your executive team and your R and R division on the bottom floor; what gives?”

“I’m taking you to my home.” My mouth fell open, and I was lost for words. Anyone who knows anything about Jared Macalister knows that his home is a well-kept secret. “Wait!” I tugged on his hand to get him to stop. Is this one of those situations where you have to kill me after I go in there to keep the secret?”

“I see you’ve been listening to the gossip rags. No, smartass, it means I’m taking you to lunch. I trust you not to spill the beans, and before you ask, I have no idea why.” For some odd reason, out of everything he’d said and done today, this one got to me. I knew he wasn’t just saying it to say it, wasn’t trying to sell me a line.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He stopped outside the door, about to open it.

“I’m just wishing I came better prepared. I came expecting a nerd that I can deal with. I have no idea what to do with all this hotness. Do your followers know that you’re a fraud?”

And what the hell is that thing behind your zipper? Haven’t you outgrown stuffing socks in your damn pants? Like somebody’s going to believe that your nerdy ass is packing all that. Why does he keep laughing at me?

“Oh shit, tell me I didn’t say that last part out loud.” I wanted to run back to the elevator and disappear, but he had a death grip on my hand.

“Are you always like this?”

“Actually, this is the first time it’s happened to me. Must be something you gave me.”

“I haven’t given you anything yet, but I’m giving serious thought to letting you have what’s behind my zipper before the day is over.”

“Don’t panic, I’m kidding, sort of. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it, to discuss the terms of our agreement? I think I should warn you, though; my mind’s pretty much