An all-new, red-hot standalone is coming tomorrow from author K. Bromberg, and I have a sneak peek for you. P.S. Did I fail to mention that the hero is a rich Australia hottie?
“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Zane growls as I yank my arm from his grip once we find ourselves back where I first saw him, in the covered corridor.
“No. Actually I think I was pretty damn smart. Came to a party and secured a new job. Isn’t that what you said to me? That there would be opportunities here that I could maybe take advantage of?”
“Yeah, there is. But not with me! Not for me.”
“What’s wrong? Did you just get played by your own game, mate? Is that what I saw just happen? You try to make us a couple so I’d get booted and then—oopsie—it cemented the deal even further?” I shrug innocently in contradiction to the sarcasm lacing my voice. I love that with every second that passes, I can see the frustration grow in his expression: the narrow of his brows, the tic of the muscle in his jaw, the tension in his lips.
“Do you have any idea what you just did?” He looks over his shoulder to make sure our conversation can’t be heard and moves us again so we’re under the cover of the night’s shadows.
“Yeah, I was saving your ass.” I snort. It’s not ladylike. It doesn’t go with the expensive dress I have on. But I couldn’t care less.
“My ass?” His chuckle could freeze water it’s so derisive. “I can handle my ass perfectly fine, thank you.”
“Actually you can’t,” I say as I step into him. “Which you would know if you’d heard Robert confess that he doesn’t trust you’re committed to this project. He was concerned about your motivation and your overall belief in this company as more than just a monetary venture.”
The look on his face tells me he believes it and had similar doubts. “The last thing I need is for you to interfere in my business dealings.” There goes that mask of arrogance again. It slides over his face like a shield of armor, one that hides every play of emotion from being seen.
“Why’s that? Are you afraid that maybe Robert overheard you trying to make a decision about which woman here could be your pretend girlfriend so you could pull one over on him?” My voice is saccharin sweet while my eyes level him with a glare. “I mean . . . what a friggin nightmare.”
I got his attention with that. His gorgeous green eyes pop up to meet mine and his fingers tense on the glass in his hand. “Harlow—”
I cock my head to the side. “So the way I see it, you owe me.”
His smile is cold at best. “You’re playing with fire.”
“Nah, more just managing the controlled burn you started.”