Read Tempting Donovan Ford for Free Online Page B

cheap imitation leather or rough, scratched wood, either. The seat looked like glass, but despite its cold and unbending appearance, was surprisingly comfortable. She’d bet it cost more than anything in her apartment except her chef knives.
    Donovan lowered himself into the chair across from her and put down his tumbler without taking a sip. “I’ve had my lawyer look over your suggested changes.”
    Julia had taken his advice and contacted a lawyer to look over the original offer. Actually, he’d been a former boyfriend of Sasha’s who had agreed to do it as a favor. Probably because he hoped Sasha would give him a second chance if he did. He’d been thorough and proactive, determining what it was that Julia wanted and then figuring out how she might get it. He’d had some excellent suggestions, including the addition of a codicil that would provide her rights of first purchase should the Fords decide to put the property on the market.
    It wasn’t shares or ownership of any kind, but it was something. And since Donovan had, both in person and again through his own lawyer, made it clear that shares were not on the table, it was the best she was going to get.
    Of course, she’d asked for a hefty raise for herself and the staff, too. Judging from what they’d paid for the location, the Fords had money to throw around. She saw no reason why her team shouldn’t share in it.
    “You’ll see here—” Donovan used the same silver pen he’d had at the restaurant to point to the term in question “—we’ve dealt with your request regarding ownership.”
    Julia scanned the words, parsing the legal jargon to understand the actual meaning. She looked up at him. “Just to be clear here, you’re agreeing that I’ll be given rights of first purchase?”
    Everything else was flexible to Julia. Her salary, hours, benefits and other perks were things she could compromise on, but pushing forward for ownership was not.
    “Yes. Should we decide to sell the property, you’ll be given the right to meet the asking price first.”
    Julia nodded. “And I’ll have six weeks from that time?”
    “Four.” He angled the pen toward her, a subtle hint to take hold of the instrument and put her name on the page. “We have to consider that a third party may withdraw their offer if they have to wait too long.”
    She accepted the proffered pen. The metal was warm from his hand and smooth to the touch but impersonal. So different from her kitchen knives, which seemed to absorb a piece of her whenever she used them. They were all sharpened a certain way, worn down in a certain spot. It was one reason all serious cooks had their own set, which they were loath to share. Julia didn’t even let other people clean hers.
    She pressed the nib of the pen to the page. This was it. She either signed now or forever held her peace. Her lungs felt swollen, as though she’d sucked in a huge breath and forgotten to let it go. Yes, this was it, and in her opinion, there was really only one option.
    Julia signed quickly and handed the pen back. Donovan’s fingers brushed against hers, hotter than the metal. Suddenly, that metal didn’t feel quite so impersonal. Her eyes darted up to meet his. He smiled and she felt a flicker of interest rise up, tamped it back down and looked at his hands instead.
    Hands were safe. They told a person’s story without words.
    Donovan gripped the pen, lightly but firmly. In perfect control. And made a series of long, artful swoops as he added his name to the document. A man who wasn’t afraid to be noticed, a man who wasn’t afraid to demand it as his due. He wouldn’t be the type to hide in the back, away from the lights, wouldn’t be afraid to ask for what he wanted and expect to get it.
    She took note of the scar on one knuckle and the thickness of his fingers. Donovan’s hands weren’t sleek and buffed, not polished within an inch of their lives. They didn’t look long and elegant like those of a pianist