Million Dollar Devil (Million Dollar #1)(63)

“James,” she moans.

“That’ll fucking do.”





JAMES ROWAN

Lizzy

I slept with him.

I slept with James Rowan.

My creation, perfect-man-in-progress. My manbabe, like Jeanine would say.

And my, is he a manbabe.

I glance around my rumpled bed, reaching out in want to trace the muscles on his back with my fingertips. I glance at the time and stop myself before making contact. Nope. No time for that.

“James,” I say, nudging his thick shoulder.

He groans and grabs my hand, stilling it at his side.

I squeeze his fingers. “Jimmy,” I coax in his ear, forcing myself to my feet and opening the curtains.

James groans in bed. “Did you just call me Jimmy?” He lifts his head, turning to blink at me in confusion.

“No,” I lie.

He’s like a beast awakening from slumber.

My beast, I think before I can stop myself.

I run my eyes along his back.

Wait.

Are those red streaks catlike scratches?

Did I do that?

Me? Elizabeth Banks?

James flops to his back and drags his arm to shield his eyes. “What time is it?” His voice is groggy with sleep. It’s . . . sexy.

A strand of dark hair falls across one eye.

His arms ripple as he sits up halfway on the bed, his neck propped on a bunched-up pillow.

I walk over and try not to notice all those inches of sexed-up beefcake in my bed as I reach out to brush the hair out of his face. Ignoring the skip in my heart, I sternly say, “Time to wake up. We need to go. We have a lunch with an important client.”

He smiles at me and slowly reels me into bed, on top of him.

I’m sunk.

God, I’m so done for.

I’m creating this perfect man, this man who has easily stepped right into his role at Banks LTD, and suddenly I don’t know what to do with him.

He shows me a new side of himself when I least expect it and somehow manages to make me feel like he’s just a man and I’m just a woman, but together we’re so much more.

As he caresses my cheek and stares into my eyes, I watch the twinkling lights in his eyes. He’s so gorgeous—I’m breathless. Everyone at Banks LTD loves James. They’ve bought the act. No one would believe that I found this guy in a bar fight.

But the thought makes a knot of fear curl in my stomach. Because what if Dad ever finds out things are not quite what I’ve made them out to be?

“What are you thinking?” He tilts my face up to his.

“How can I think at all after last night?” I tease.

“Good answer.” He kisses my forehead and whispers. “Let’s get you fed and ready.”

I’m beaming as my luggage arrives, and we leave the room a little later. I’m beaming because I’m happy, because I don’t remember ever being this happy, but also because I never thought sex could be like last night with Devil.

He makes me feel protected and precious, yet strong and independent. I wonder how he does it and makes it seem so effortless as I let him hold my hand in his grip.

That’s when it hits me. It’s easy because when I’m with him? I can be me.



At lunch, he exudes the same charm as we meet the buyers for Dray’s, a famous department store from Florida with over twenty stores across the continent.

“James Rowan,” James immediately greets the group of buyers as we introduce ourselves across the table.

“Wow,” one of the women tells me breathlessly as she invites me to the seat next to hers. “We saw the ad on GQ dot com. He’s a bona fide god. We’re fans already. We’re in.”

I smile, thrilled that it’s up already. I watch her click on an image on the screen of her phone, where a huge ad of James on the GQ home page appears.

She turns the screen to him, and I see his eyes widen momentarily before he shields his gaze with a cool smile and leans back in his chair, all poised and collected as if he’s not one bit surprised his face is that big, that live, on an online site.

“I’ll send you the PDF of the catalog,” I tell her, back to business.

She motions to James then, her hand sweeping in the air from the top of his perfectly combed hair to the tips of his perfectly polished leather shoes. “We want what he’s wearing. Not just what he’s wearing—we want it all,” she laughs, then winks at him. “Right down to the socks.”

He plays along and winks back.

I shoot him a scowl, and he smiles a look at me that says, You want me to play along or not?

Afterward, I’m so happy I think I might die.

“We got an order for five thousand pieces!” I leap on him, kiss his jaw. “You’re slaying, James.”

“She wanted my dick. I just made her think if she ordered a few pieces she might get it.”

“Stop it,” I laugh, and he raises my chin.

“We got anything tonight?”

“Of course we do. We’re booked solid until the last night.”

“Well, save that night.”

“Why?”

“Thought I’d take you out on that date.”

He leads me, and I am confused as to what he’s talking about. “You’ve already got me where you want me. You don’t need to do anything special.”