The Billionaire's Contract: The Complete Serial by Tessa Blake

Author:Tessa Blake [Blake, Tessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tessa Blake
Published: 2017-03-23T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 3

Rafe

“So what’s with the dame?” Miles asks.

I settle back into my chair and lift an eyebrow at him. “What’s with you talking like an extra in a 1940s gangster movie?”

He nods. “Good point. What’s with her, though? That looked … I hate to say it, but that looked serious.”

“Well, she obviously thinks it is, but I’ll take care of it.” I consider telling him what’s Ainsley told me, but it doesn’t relate to the business or to our family, and he doesn’t need to know Ainsley’s business. “Some guy bothering her at work.”

Miles snorts, then says, “Dude, I’m not talking about whatever got her to run her pretty little ass in here being serious. I meant … you. Her. Whatever you’ve got going on.” He leans forward, laces his fingers together on top of the desk. “Is she your girlfriend?”

It takes every ounce of control I’ve got not to hunch my shoulders against the tingle that starts between them. Girlfriend. Oh, I do not like that word. “I wouldn’t call her that,” I say, evenly.

“What would you call her, then?” he asks.

“She’s mine,” I say, simply. “From the moment I saw her. I don’t even know how or why it happened, but she’s mine.”

“And you don’t think that’s serious, dude?” he says, his tone light. “You don’t think that makes her your girlfriend?”

“What I think, dude, is that this will eventually end, as all relationships do, so call her whatever you want, I suppose. For now, she’s mine.”

“Some women,” he says, “don’t care to be referred to that way. Like you own them.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I stay away from those women.”

He flashes a grin across the desk that tells me he feels the same, even if he is a tattooed surfer bum. “No wedding bells, then,” he says. “Has she met Mom?”

I shake my head, blink away the flash of what Ainsley might look like in a gown and veil, the flash of how she might smile if I introduced her to my mother. Those things aren’t for me. I’ve never wanted them, and I certainly don’t need them. “It’s not like that,” I say. “I’ve only known her a couple of days.”

His eyebrows draw together, a sharp line between them. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“I would not have guessed that, from looking at you.”

“Well, that just goes to show how astute and intuitive you are about relationships,” I say, trying but not quite succeeding at keeping the irritation out of my voice. “Now, can we get back to the part where the FBI wants to put me in jail, or would you like to gossip about my sex life some more?”

He laughs. “Well, excuse me for being interested in my little brother’s girlfriend.”

I manage not to wince, but just barely. “If you could be interested in your little brother’s possible incarceration for a crime he didn’t commit, that would be great.” I flip the documents about the 421-a buildings right side up and lay my hand on them. “We have to do something, and I admit I’m at a loss.

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