Read Two Weeks in Geneva: Book Three for Free Online Page B

her gaze on him. Again, as she did seemingly every time she saw him, she marveled at how handsome he was, the strong cut of his jaw, free of the stubble that she loved to feel abrading her skin…
    No!
    She couldn’t think about that, needed to stay focused. He certainly didn’t seem to be having any trouble. Yes. She latched onto that thought. It was just the reminder she needed. She’d think about him sitting there so calm and unaffected, speaking like he didn’t have a care in the world while she suffered. Add the fact that he spoke French—a language he knew for a fact she didn’t understand—so he could have been disarming a nuke for all she knew, and she was well and truly pissed.
    She stewed in silence for a few more minutes—Thornehill Springs was only so far from Charlotte and Charlotte was only so big, so she had no idea where they were going and why it was taking so damned long—when he finally wrapped up his conversation and looked at her.
    “Apologies, Quinn. That couldn’t wait.”
    “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes, not caring a whit that she was acting like a petulant child. “When will we arrive?”
    If he heard the snippiness in her tone, and he undoubtedly had, he ignored it and responded evenly, “It should only be a few minutes more.”
    And as he had said, less than five minutes later, they turned into a roundabout of one of the large office buildings in downtown Charlotte, and the driver came around and opened the door. Quinn had another wild swing of emotion, and all she felt was irrationally self-conscious as she got out of the limo. But Alexander, as he had all day, seemed unfazed. He placed a hand at the small of her back and guided her through the double doors, and while her mind screamed at her to pull away, her body opened into the touch, which felt so natural. As weak-willed as it was, she knew she wouldn’t have many more chances to experience this touch, so she’d take it, logic, and anger, be damned.
    After a brief ride in the elevator, a middle-aged man she assumed was Alexander’s lawyer met them and then led them into a conference room, where several sets of documents were laid out on the table.
    “Quinn, Bardsley will walk you through the documents, and of course, you may have your own counsel look them over,” Alexander said as he gestured toward the table.
    “Not necessary. I trust you, at least when it comes to Ethan.”
    He flinched at the not remotely veiled shot, and she felt a rush of guilt.
    “I know you’d only do what’s best for him,” she said, this time softer, her apology unspoken but heard.
    He nodded, and Bardsley proceeded to walk her through the documents. As expected, they were straightforward and fair, and Ethan would be taken care of. She’d felt confident in her ability to provide for him day-to-day, but to know that his future was secure was a huge weight off her shoulders.
    An hour later, business concluded, they were back in the elevator. This whole meeting had a finality that Quinn couldn’t, or didn’t, want to fathom. It was as if by signing the papers, she was officially ending them, all the potential for what they could have had, and the very thought left her gutted. In a haze, she got into the limo, and Alexander followed, settling beside her. Heat rolled off his body, and his strength beckoned to her, making her want to lose herself in it.
    He turned his head to look at her, and before she could think to stop herself, she captured his lips in a kiss.
     

Chapter Seven
     
    Quinn’s soft lips closed over his, and Alexander exhaled at the contact, at how right it felt to touch her again. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, seeking, insistent, and as if of their own will, his hands came up to grasp her face. He wanted to pull her closer, as close as she could possibly be, but the one sane part of him that remained won out, and he, exercising control he didn’t know he had, pushed her away.
    She released a disappointed whimper