Page 4 of Wicked Takeover
Lauren’s throat and cheeks grew hot. With his approving gaze, too much desire rushed through her, making it difficult to breathe.
He flushed, too. “Let me get those binders so you can look through them.”
“No, don’t. Please. That’s not why I’m here.”
His dark eyebrows lifted. “You’re selling something?” He glanced at her purse and looked around her, possibly for an organization caddy stuffed with her product line.
“Uh no. I’m here to take over.”
“Take over?”
“Uh-huh.”
He looked lost. “As in what?”
“This place.” She gestured to the parlor. “I own this business and everything in it, including you.”
His eyes widened.
Oh. My. God. Had she really just told him she owned him? If her face heated any more, it would burst into flames. She hadn’t meant to say that last part, and by the look on his face, he was just as surprised as she was. She might be a control freak and a micromanager, but even she knew that no woman owned a hottie like him. When it came to hunks, no woman, not even a wife, had full possession of them. Men like him had too many options, including countless females who wanted carnal attention and were willing to do whatever it took to get it.
Lauren couldn’t blame those ladies. She ached just looking at him. However, it was his easy manner and effortless smile that called to the person she was, lonely and wanting for too long, making her yearn for closeness she’d rarely known. He seemed like a truly decent guy who’d be fun to talk to, work with, get to know. At least in her fantasies.
Remembering why she was here, Lauren pulled herself together. “What I meant is, I’m your boss, at least until I can get rid of this place, which I will. As quickly as possible.” She stuck out her hand. “Lauren Simms, and you’re…”
…
Dante didn’t say and considered asking her for ID.
She was Frank’s little girl?
He had expected Frank’s daughter to eventually show up and claim her inheritance. However, he hadn’t been prepared for anyone like the woman who stood before him.
She and her dad looked nothing alike, not even within the same family tree or forest. Frank had been short for a man, no more than five-five, and painfully thin even before his heart problems. His hair had been curly and red, his features on the homely side, given his big nose and protruding teeth.
Lauren’s mouth was exceptionally nice. Plush lips tinted a delicate rose and further enhanced by a tiny mole to the side.
Something shifted inside him, and he tried to ignore the pleasant feeling but couldn’t. It nagged and kept building. Her delicate features were sweet and pretty rather than sensual. Her deep blue eyes went really well with her honey-blond hair. Cut shorter than his, a few strands brushed her cheeks.
He wanted to ease them back. Good sense warned him against touching her and coming on too strong.
Lauren’s blush had gone from pink to bright red, which gave her some color. If she lived in Florida, that was a major surprise. She was as pale as a corpse and dressed like a modern-day nun.
Dante inhaled deeply. Thankfully, she didn’t smell like incense but rather a subtle floral fragrance tinged with musk.
Heat pooled in his groin.
Lauren blinked rapidly and lifted her face, her lips not far from his. For a woman, she was tallish, probably five-seven, five-eight, without her heels.
She stepped back.
He resisted the urge to follow. Wasn’t easy.
Her prim clothes didn’t hide her lush, womanly figure. He’d never been into the skinny women that advertisers coveted. He liked Lauren’s curves and the innocent yet sexy vibes she gave off. Still waters running deep and all that.
His balls tightened. He edged closer.
Her fingertips touched his abs.
