Talking Dirty With the Boss (Talking Dirty#3) by Jackie Ashenden

Author:Jackie Ashenden
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: talking dirty, office romance, OCD, boss, Romance, wealthy, sexy, dirty talker, Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2013-12-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Marisa woke the next day to the sound of someone knocking insistently on her door. She groaned, rolled over to glance at the clock. It was 9:00 a.m. Who the hell was knocking on her door at nine on a Sunday morning? She lay there for long moments hoping they’d go away. But they didn’t.

Crap. What she could really use was another couple of hours sleep, since she’d spent a good portion of the night before lying awake going over and over Luke’s insane plan that she move in with him. Oh, and not forgetting the further insanity of her marrying him.

She couldn’t get her head around it. She’d only just found out she was pregnant and yet he was all “move in with me, and hey, why don’t we get married?” as if it were a done deal.

She was sick of people doing that. Ignoring what she wanted or dismissing it as unimportant.

Yet, for all that it was a completely mad idea, there was a part of her that didn’t find it so objectionable. Because he was right, it did make sense from both a legal and a financial standpoint when it came to their child. And on a more personal level, it also meant that she wouldn’t again find herself in the position of being “the other woman.” This time, she would be the wife.

You can’t actually be contemplating this, can you? With Mr. Two Weeks only?

The banging on the door increased.

Well, one thing was for sure. She couldn’t think with that racket going on.

Slipping out of bed, Marisa grabbed her blue silk Chinese robe and put it on over her short cotton nightdress, belting it tightly as she went downstairs to the front door.

If it was door-to-door salespeople or Mormons, she was going to have a few choice words to say to them.

She pulled open the door, ready to let rip, only to have the words die in her throat as she met Luke McNamara’s gray eyes.

“Good, you’re up,” he said calmly, before she had a chance to say anything. “And don’t worry about breakfast, I bought some.” Then he put his foot on the step, obviously intending to come inside.

Pulling herself together, Marisa planted her feet in the middle of the doorway and stuck a hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. “What are you doing here, McNamara?”

He frowned. “Excuse me?”

“Let me put that another way. It’s nine a.m. On a Sunday freaking morning. You’re lucky I’m not still asleep.”

“I told you I needed a decision this morning. That’s why I’m here.”

Marisa didn’t know what was more annoying—the fact that he’d turned up so early or that he clearly expected her to have made a decision about the baby. After one night. Which she’d spent mostly not sleeping, and was now more tired than she’d ever been in her whole life.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

He raised his eyebrow in surprise. “Of course I’m serious. Why do you keep asking me that?”

Possibly because her experience was of men saying things they didn’t mean.

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