Fighting for Love by Mel Curtis

Author:Mel Curtis [Curtis, Mel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Purple Papaya, LLC
Published: 2016-06-20T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

“Why do you want to buy the Harper Complex?” Esme fidgeted in the stiff Ferrari seats. They were made for racing, not for comfort.

They were still a few minutes away from the Wilshire. Ever since she’d told Graham about Sarah, he’d been quiet. There’d been no demands for kisses or proclamations that they were going to get busy soon. She had a sense that they’d part ways once they reached the hotel.

It was exactly what Esme wanted.

So why did it make her chest ache?

“My grandfather built the Harper Complex back in the eighties. My father lost it in a bet ten years ago. And I…I value family and family history.” Graham drove with a fluid economy of movement, changing gears without flourishes or ramming the shifter home. Everything he did was as smooth as his slow Texas twang.

He’d be good in bed, too.

Her libido. It talked too much lately.

“It’s nice you want to restore the family holdings,” she said absently.

He sent her a dark look.

“You take offense to the term nice?”

“I’m not nice.” His voice rumbled deeper than the engine. “I take what I want, by any means I can. And I want you.”

“So you’ve said.” She placed a hand on his thigh, testing him. Testing herself. “What are you willing to do to get me? You could place a fifty thousand dollar bet without Kyle questioning you.”

“I won’t gamble to get you.” He didn’t look at her, but he didn’t brush off her hand. “And you shouldn’t either. You could lose everything.”

“If I don’t have a hundred grand in four weeks, it’s the same as having nothing. I can beat her.” But Esme’s back twitched apprehensively. Sarah may be more boxer in style than marital artist, and less likely to land a kick to Esme’s spine, but she punched like a machine. A blow to Esme’s kidneys could be devastating.

But so would be missing the chance to help Pop walk again.

Esme pushed forward. Both with her arguments and her hand, reaching for his package, pressing her palm into the bulge at his crotch. “You don’t do one night stands, but we had one. You don’t let women spend the night, but we’re going back to your hotel. Why not place a bet for a…friend?”

"I live – or try to live – by a set of rules.” His voice had sunk into a territorial growl. “My father had no principles. He nearly drove our company into bankruptcy a decade ago. He drank, he gambled, he spent money on women he barely knew and then he did us all a favor and rammed his Porsche into a power pole. I’m not going down the same path. I have a mom, a kid sister and a couple of cousins depending on me.”

Her fingers touched something between his legs as hard as his words. “Well, you aren’t without a few vices of your own. You drink. And you drive fast cars.”

“But I don’t let women manipulate me.” He scowled, sparing a glance toward her hand, which he left right where it was.

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