Million Dollar Devil (Million Dollar #1)(24)

You should see what she does with her little finger when she drags it across . . .

You know what? Fuck him. AND his dots and her little fingers.

I’m pacing outside when the doors open, and Sherry steps out.

Behind her is James. Partly blocked from view.

I glare at whatever pieces are visible, realizing he WAS trying to get a reaction.

“All done. Everything except . . . well. He’ll tell you.” Sherry beams at me, then glances past her shoulder and lets him step out. “Well, Mr. Rowan. You’re free to go.”

I’m standing here.

Speechless.

Drooling in my mouth.

As he fills my complete line of vision.

All six foot plus of him.

“Well?”

He’s speaking. He’s asking me something. Hands in his pockets, glare on his face.

He approaches, and I almost lose my balance. This guy, this hot-as-hell man, is like WHOA . . . I can’t even describe him.

Only I can, but it’ll take a minute.

I run my eyes all over him, taking it all in. His hair cut shorter to enhance his incredible features. He even smells amazing. I can tell he pulled out his best jeans, loafers, and T-shirt for today, and though he rocked them when we went in, right now he’s totally rocking the world. My stomach ropes in with excitement and dread over his black, stony look.

I realize I’m ogling him a little too much before I finally smile up at him and, to hide my blush, turn my attention to the cashier.

I flip out my card. “Checking him out.”

They charge me for everything and swipe my card, and we climb into the back of a cab as I give the driver the address of our next stop. I suppose I should’ve driven my car over here so that I could tuck our purchases in the trunk later, but I’m so used to riding in company cars provided by my dad, used to having my hands free to work from my phone and keep in touch with the office while we head from one place to the next, that it didn’t occur to me to take my car out for the day until now.

It would certainly give me something to do other than sit here with a very hot James Rowan far too close to me. It’s not like I’m able to get any work done here with the guy staring at me the way he is.

He’s still squaring his jaw, obviously pissed at me.

“I know you maybe didn’t enjoy that so much. So we’ll go shopping. I’m treating you to some fabulous casual clothes,” I tell him.

I’m checking the receipt as we drive and realize they didn’t charge the waxing.

“They forgot to charge the waxing.”

“Baby . . . they didn’t charge it because I told you. No one would wax me.” He reaches out and tips my head back, seizing my gaze.

“What do you mean?” I shift, uncomfortable when struck with his new, neatly shaven face.

He raises one brow. “She tried.” Nostrils flaring, he grabs a fistful of his T-shirt and simply yanks it over his head, tousling his hair. Now that he’s bare chested, I see a sliver of waxed skin on a massive chest, nestled amid a dusting of hair.

I bite down on my smile as I struggle not to laugh. “She only waxed one strip?”

“Hurt like hell.”

“Aw, poor baby.” I can’t help but laugh and shake my head, then turn back again to look at that one strip of waxed skin amid a mass of hair.

God. And his chest. His pecs.

I’m drooling in my mouth.

“Well? Heiress? I expect an apology.”

I twist my mouth thoughtfully to the side. I tell myself not to ogle. Do not ogle and definitely do not think of touch— Impulsively I reach out to stroke my fingers down his smooth, tan skin. “It’ll grow back.”

Realizing what I just did, I retrieve my hand.

My eyes fly up to his.

The look in his eyes simmers with intent.

He smiles.

Oh.

My.

He speaks on a softer note. “How about we go back, and I wax my dick?”

“James!”

Laughing, I slam a fist to his chest, and he laughs and grabs my arm by the wrist and pulls me closer. Leaning down. “I’m serious.”

“No. I can work with a hairy chest. Nobody is going to see it.” But me, I think. Where did that thought come from? He’s not mine. This is business; I need to remember that.

I grab his T-shirt from his lap and toss it back at him. “Put that on, please.”

He grabs it and pulls it on with one swift motion. “Say it.” He rolls the fabric down those impeccable abs with one hand.

“What?”

“What you were thinking.” When I only stare, he adds, “Who’s the only one who’s going to see my half-waxed chest?” One black eyebrow is up in challenge.

I swallow. “Fine. ME! But only for business purposes,” I quickly add.

And when that damn flush creeps over my neck again, all I hear is James’s low devil laugh in the closed confines of the cab.





TIM’S BAR

Jimmy

“Nice look, man!”

Luke looks surprised as he pours two shots. I pull out a stool with my foot and drop down on the bar. “Yeah. Well. Thought I’d get a shave,” I lie.

We lift our glasses. “Salut.”

“Shit, man, I’d never seen you without a beard. You look . . . fuck, I don’t know. Like those guys on billboards.” Luke cackles like it’s some sort of joke.