Tailored for Trouble (Happy Pants #1) - Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Page 0,69
to you. I’ll make sure you get home after we land in Paris. Just forget the dinner.”
So that was his answer. Pushing her away. Yes, his mother warned this would happen and that she should hang on, but why? For what? Linda assumed Bennett and Taylor were meant to be because they’d both eaten a Happy Pants Café cookie. As cute as that sounded, Taylor needed to deal with reality and some very real, very confusing emotions, not to mention some serious career issues in her life. She no longer had the mental stamina or time to be playing around, and Bennett was turning her into a mess.
“Okay,” she accepted his offer, not wanting to, but feeling like she had to try to rein herself in before she became so entangled in his addictive, masculine vibe that she’d never be able to climb that cliff back to sanity.
“But you’re keeping the money,” he added.
“No, I don’t want it. You didn’t get anything from me.”
“I did, actually. Like I said, I emailed myself a copy of your program. It’s not what I expected at all, but I think it’s got potential.”
“Please. Don’t remind me that you violated my privacy. But it’s yours to keep. No charge.”
“Let me at least put in a good word for you with a few fr—”
She shot him a look. “You mean your friends who all think I’m some fuck-trophy?”
Something flashed in his eyes. “I’m sorry I said that. And I can see how you might think everyone is laughing behind your back, but if anything, the bet was a tribute to your moral fiber.”
Taylor’s mouth sagged open. “Did you just try to spin the bet into a good thing?” Her reputation was ruined.
“No. There’s no excuse for the way everyone behaved, and I will make sure that you receive a public apology from each and every man involved; however, I’m merely pointing out that the cause of the bet was their immature egos. And their inability to accept the fact that they can’t have any woman they like merely because they’re wealthy.” He reached out and gently grabbed her chin, beaming at her. “You, Taylor Reed, cannot be bought.”
Her heart made a jump. His blatant admiration felt far too similar to deep affection—the kind that might start with the letter “L.”
But then…“But why did you do it, Bennett?” she pleaded quietly.
He dropped his hand from her chin.
“Let me guess,” she said, sensing his discomfort, “you’re not ready to talk about it.”
“I will make things right. That’s all you need to know. Even if I have to break every one of their noses. Or in the case of Charles, I’ll rebreak it. Asshole deserves it anyway—the way he talks about women is vile.”
Was that why he’d gotten into a brawl at his own charity event? She’d bet it was.
God, I so want to dry hump you. Without any clothes on. With your penis inside me.
Okay. Not dry humping at all.
“Thank you. It means a lot to me that you’ll make things right.” It might not help her land any clients, but at least she wouldn’t be seen as a joke. “And it’s payment enough.”
He nodded solemnly. “It’s the least I could do for your trouble.”
“No trouble, Bennett.” She wanted to say more, but she felt like they both had had enough. The man was looking pale again. “I’ll let you get some rest.”
She moved to the front of the plane and sat down. Candy appeared a moment later with a bag of ice for her head.
“You okay?” she asked.
Taylor nodded.
“He’s not a bad man, Taylor. He’s just had a bumpy road. Don’t hold it against him.”
Taylor smiled shallowly, feeling like she was on the outside of an exclusive club that knew the inner workings of this man. What bumpy road could he have possibly endured? Hot, rich, and powerful all sounded pretty nice. “I won’t.”
“I saw the way he looked at you. He must’ve been blowing off steam when he said he wanted to let you go. I’ve known that man for eight years, and I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like he wants to strangle you and then kiss the hell out of you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s into you.” Her mouth then popped open, and she snapped her fingers. “Oh! I bet that’s why he wanted to fire—” she made little air quotes with her fingers, “the hell out of you.” She chuckled.