Read The Billionaire's Demands (A Boardrooms and Billionaires Series Book) (Entangled Indulgence) for Free Online
Authors: Addison Fox
Tags: lifeless women and he’s anxious to get to know her better.When circumstances conspire to throw them together, Booth takes a chance.Little does he know it’s going to be the biggest gamble of his life....because now his heart’s on the line., has had his eye on Camryn for months. The woman is a breath of fresh air in a sea of stale, heir to the Harrison media conglomerate and billionaire businessman in his own right, which is why her attraction to her sister’s new brother-in-law is tossing a monkey wrench into all her well-laid plans.Booth Harrison, Divided loyalties. Family secrets. They were perfect for each other. CFO Camryn McBride likes her life as neat and orderly as her financial spreadsheets. She avoids messy entanglements
they ultimately parted ways.
She was a toy right now. A challenge. Booth Harrison was a conqueror; it was in his blood. Somehow, getting tangled with conquerors never worked out well for the conquered.
But wouldn’t it be amazing to be his, even if for only a short while?
The mental tennis match had grown irritating in the extreme and she threw down the mail she’d picked up in the lobby on the small island in her kitchen in disgust. With efficient movements, she dug out a fruit smoothie from the fridge and shook it up. As dinners went, it wasn’t a steak, but it would give her the energy boost she needed to power through another hour of work before she dropped into bed.
Her gaze caught on the pile of mail and the thick, folded copy of the Financial Journal that had fallen open from where it wrapped around the stack of mail. She knew it was old-school to still get the paper copy, but something about the tangible feel of the newsprint in her hands was a ritual she’d been unwilling to give up.
Of course, the stack of papers that currently lined a shelf in her home office was proof she might need to reconsider her attachment to print. On a shake of her head she opened the paper. “Not enough hours in the day.”
She carried the paper and her drink toward her home office, settling in the small love seat she kept on the far side of the room. She tossed off her heels, curled her legs up underneath her, and flipped through the paper. Her mind filled with images, alternating between the stories she skimmed and her lunch conversation with Booth. The invitation to speak. Their management styles. Even his strange comments about her work to acquire Magnificent were laced with the personal. The connection they’d formed was bold and exhilarating and scary as hell.
Her palm still tingled where he’d pressed his tongue and even now, so many hours later, she could still feel the brand of him in that same spot. She pressed her lips to her palm, surprised when a shot of need speared her core as bold, heated images of having sex with Booth filled her mind’s eye.
She tossed the paper aside and stood to pace the room. The man did things to her. Crazy, wicked things that had her very real sense of caution itching to take a holiday.
The peal of her phone broke into her thoughts and she reached for the device like a lifeline. A text message filled the face of the screen, and whatever calm she sought vanished.
Still thinking about you.
She couldn’t hold back the small smile that tinged her lips, or the fact that his thoughts so closely echoed her own. Without giving herself time to analyze, she shot back a quick text of her own.
I thought big-shot publishers knew better than to waste their time on stories that won’t pan out.
Okay, so as responses went that was about as sexy as a wet blanket, but she was curious to see how he’d respond. She didn’t have to wait long.
And really good publishers know how to bide their time, waiting for all the right pieces to fall into place.
That same flutter that had accompanied her throughout the day flared up once more and she couldn’t resist one last text.
Is this your veiled attempt to assure me how good you are?
His reply came back at warp-speed.
Actually, it’s an unveiled attempt to make you see how good we’d be together.
Although she’d ignored most of the articles McBride Media’s magazines had printed on the joys of sexting, Camryn had to admit the practice had merit. And when had she gotten so damn out of practice?
The thought flitted through her mind’s eye: when was the last time she’d enjoyed a man’s company for more than a businesslike evening? Although she hadn’t exactly been a candidate to become the fifth member of Sex and the City , she did date and she did enjoy male company. So why had it become all too easy to forgo that company on a regular basis?
And how had she let her life come to that?
Sure, she and her sisters had put a lot of time and
She was a toy right now. A challenge. Booth Harrison was a conqueror; it was in his blood. Somehow, getting tangled with conquerors never worked out well for the conquered.
But wouldn’t it be amazing to be his, even if for only a short while?
The mental tennis match had grown irritating in the extreme and she threw down the mail she’d picked up in the lobby on the small island in her kitchen in disgust. With efficient movements, she dug out a fruit smoothie from the fridge and shook it up. As dinners went, it wasn’t a steak, but it would give her the energy boost she needed to power through another hour of work before she dropped into bed.
Her gaze caught on the pile of mail and the thick, folded copy of the Financial Journal that had fallen open from where it wrapped around the stack of mail. She knew it was old-school to still get the paper copy, but something about the tangible feel of the newsprint in her hands was a ritual she’d been unwilling to give up.
Of course, the stack of papers that currently lined a shelf in her home office was proof she might need to reconsider her attachment to print. On a shake of her head she opened the paper. “Not enough hours in the day.”
She carried the paper and her drink toward her home office, settling in the small love seat she kept on the far side of the room. She tossed off her heels, curled her legs up underneath her, and flipped through the paper. Her mind filled with images, alternating between the stories she skimmed and her lunch conversation with Booth. The invitation to speak. Their management styles. Even his strange comments about her work to acquire Magnificent were laced with the personal. The connection they’d formed was bold and exhilarating and scary as hell.
Her palm still tingled where he’d pressed his tongue and even now, so many hours later, she could still feel the brand of him in that same spot. She pressed her lips to her palm, surprised when a shot of need speared her core as bold, heated images of having sex with Booth filled her mind’s eye.
She tossed the paper aside and stood to pace the room. The man did things to her. Crazy, wicked things that had her very real sense of caution itching to take a holiday.
The peal of her phone broke into her thoughts and she reached for the device like a lifeline. A text message filled the face of the screen, and whatever calm she sought vanished.
Still thinking about you.
She couldn’t hold back the small smile that tinged her lips, or the fact that his thoughts so closely echoed her own. Without giving herself time to analyze, she shot back a quick text of her own.
I thought big-shot publishers knew better than to waste their time on stories that won’t pan out.
Okay, so as responses went that was about as sexy as a wet blanket, but she was curious to see how he’d respond. She didn’t have to wait long.
And really good publishers know how to bide their time, waiting for all the right pieces to fall into place.
That same flutter that had accompanied her throughout the day flared up once more and she couldn’t resist one last text.
Is this your veiled attempt to assure me how good you are?
His reply came back at warp-speed.
Actually, it’s an unveiled attempt to make you see how good we’d be together.
Although she’d ignored most of the articles McBride Media’s magazines had printed on the joys of sexting, Camryn had to admit the practice had merit. And when had she gotten so damn out of practice?
The thought flitted through her mind’s eye: when was the last time she’d enjoyed a man’s company for more than a businesslike evening? Although she hadn’t exactly been a candidate to become the fifth member of Sex and the City , she did date and she did enjoy male company. So why had it become all too easy to forgo that company on a regular basis?
And how had she let her life come to that?
Sure, she and her sisters had put a lot of time and
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