Trading Passion With The Ruthless Tycoon

sure ab

man's fingers and brought it to her lips. Her gaze he

the distance. They stood at the dead

. Dark eyes, dee

in my vocabu

like the others. Clean. Compo

Her skin craved touch

es climbing, awards stacking up. Her toys sold. Her life didn't. No friends. No lover

heartbroken or drunk. She didn't let him. She gr

lt every finger. His knuckles brushed the back of her knee. The contact hit her nervous system like a

herself away, breath ra

," her newest prototype. Elegant. Streamlined. Supposed to be her ticket out of financial hell. Nex

buzzed.

to deliver by the tenth results in

en times her advance.

en finished for three months. She'd held onto it because somethi

a, lost her balance, and landed directly on the device. A sharp crack. Pain tore through her lowe

scre

mediately. She stumbled to the bathroom.

knock at

Noise co

rassment and pain swirled. She clutched her burned

ts. Toolbox in ha

the door. H

The man fr

. All coherent thought evaporat

step forward, and that same scent of sandalwood and something uniquely him washed over her again. The proximity was overwhelming. T

behind her back as if hiding a shameful secret

of her apartment before landing on the broken prototype o

blem than a noise complaint," he

ssional failure and her private, physical ag

le of wrenches and screwdrivers she expected, but a neatly organized set of professional-grade tools and a com

her cold skin. A jolt, sharp and electric, shot up her arm

ent," she said, her v

h an antiseptic wipe. His gaze was intense, invasive, as if he could see every one of her pathetic secr

a dizzying cocktail of sensation. She felt too weak to fight, too exposed to resist. She could

up, pulling her gently to her feet, and walked over to t

n fix

, incredulous. "You

uminating the hard lines of his jaw. "Your number. I'll call y