Pure Paradise by Allison Hobbs

Author:Allison Hobbs
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2009-07-13T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 20

Milan gave a sigh of relief after Sumi left. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. Why did she always have to come up with the solutions? What the hell did she pay Sumi for when she always had to end up putting out all the fires? No one cared about Pure Paradise as much as Milan did.

There was no one to share her burdens with at the end of a long day. She shook her head sadly. It had always been Milan against the world and she supposed that was the way it would always be.

Gripping her forehead in despair, she cut an eye at the time. Eleven in the morning and already her energy was dwindling fast. Mentally exhausted, she needed a quick pick-me-up. Royce?

Hell, no! She needed something else. Her pussy could definitely use some action, but in her current state of fatigue, what she really needed most was an emotional healing. She yearned for someone to console her, reassure her that everything would be all right. She hated to admit it, but it was her heart and not her pussy that needed emergency treatment.

She checked the time again. A few minutes after eleven. Where was he? The gym? No, he worked out early in the morning. She pondered a few moments. Most likely, he was at the Sports Medicine Center. Hilton was delusional, still holding on to the hope that his bum knee would heal and someday he would resume his football career. Milan didn’t know jack shit about the rules of football but common sense told her that it wasn’t likely that a twenty-nine-year-old former player, who had experienced such a major, career-stopping injury, would ever again hear the roar of the crowd as he charged across a football field.

And that was a good thing. Milan didn’t want Hilton traipsing around the country. She wanted him in the Philadelphia area and under her thumb. She wanted him to remain on call, a devoted chauffeur. Devoted? Yeah, right. Hilton was about as devoted to her as she was to Maxwell. But every now and then, she sensed that beneath their casual, no-strings-attached sexual relationship lay deep feelings—an emotional bond between them. She smiled wistfully, then chastised herself. Keep dreaming!

She called his number. Feeling awkward and vulnerable, she listened to his cell ring, her pulse pounding erratically in a combination of anticipation and anxiety. When the call was picked up by his voicemail, Milan breathed a sigh of relief. Under the circumstances—dealing with such a severe case of the jitters—she preferred to talk to a machine.

“Hi. Um…Hi, uh, this is Milan. It’s Milan,” she said again, stammering. She could have kicked herself for sounding like such a tongue-tied jerk. “Give me a call, when you get a minute.” Much better. Now her words were coming out clear and concise. “This isn’t a business call. If you aren’t busy tonight, I’d like to take you out to dinner.” She paused and nervously cleared her throat. The sound was deafening, a blaring indication of awkwardness.

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