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“That’s fucking bullshit,” he spits, his eyes bouncing around the room, deep in thought. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll sort it out.”

“No,” I say, stopping him before he can get too far with that thought. “I don’t need you rushing in to save me all the time. It’s fine. I mean, the way he handled it was wrong and he should be fired for that shit, but it doesn’t change the fact that you guys are a bunch of dudes and I’m a chick. I never should have been enrolled at BSA in the first place.”

“I mean …”

“That’s what I thought,” I grumble, allowing him to pull me out of the room, assuming that he’s leading me back to the pool house and sending me off to bed like a good little girl, only he turns in the opposite direction. “Where are we going?”

He doesn’t respond, just keeps pulling me along, his fingers laced through mine and doing all sorts of things to me. It’s moments like this where I feel we could be so much more but then he always goes and does something to fuck that up.

I don’t understand this. Sometimes he’s so unbelievably sweet, caring, and overprotective, but other times, he wants to get at me, tear me down, and remind me who’s the fucking boss around here. I get it, I really do. It’s his way of coping with all the bullshit and trying to keep me in line, it’s his way of pretending what he’s feeling for me doesn’t exist, but it’ll get to a point where he can no longer pretend, and when it does … fuck. It’s either going to be epic or a colossal cluster fuck. There’s no middle ground when it comes to Colton Carrington.

We walk through the house until he stops in front of a set of double doors that look just like the rest, that is until he leans forward and presses the call button. My eyes bug out of my head. “You have a fucking elevator in here and I’m only just finding out now?”

“Jesus,” he laughs. “What kind of worker are you? How could you not know this?”

I glare at the magnificent man beside me. “Because I stick to the jobs Maryne gives me and make a point of not snooping around your house.”

“Bullshit,” he grunts. “I’ve seen you standing in front of bookshelves tipping books, hoping for a secret dungeon.”

My mouth drops. Fuck. Sprung. “I … uhhh. I was just …”

“You were just at the wrong bookshelf.”

My eyes widen. “Bullshit. Are you serious?”

He grins. “Dad had to hide his prized possessions somewhere, but don’t get too excited. It’s just a really big room with all his favorite art, sculptures, and treasures.”

“No shit,” I laugh. “That’s kinda cool.”

Colton shrugs, clearly not as impressed as I am.

The elevator arrives and the doors slide open. Colton waves me in and holds the doors open like the gentleman he pretends to be. I step through and Colton follows behind, allowing the doors to close us in.

He presses a button and as the elevator starts taking us up, the tension rises along with it. His hand remains in mine but the need to grab his face and devour it pulses through me. I wonder what kind of alarm system is on this thing and how much jumping around it could take before it broke off the chains and dropped to the ground?

No. Ocean. Behave. I’m not about to have a quickie with Colton in the elevator while dangling between floors. If and when I fuck him, it’s going to count and it’s going to be so much more than a quickie. It’ll be fucking explosive and I can’t wait.

There’s a soft ding as we reach the top floor and when the doors slide open, I stare ahead in shock. “Holy shit,” I breathe as Colton pulls me out of the elevator.

I glance around at the fully stocked library and itch to start searching. It’s like a scene out of fairytale in here. It’s incredible.

Colton laughs under his breath. “Geez, if you’re impressed by this, you should see my dick.”

I roll my eyes and glance across at him, struggling to look away from the books on the shelves. How is it that men always have a one-track mind? “I’ve seen your dick,” I remind him, “and although it’s impressive, it’s got nothing on this.”

“Yeah, just wait till you see it in action.”

I scoff as I start walking toward the books. “Pretty confident for a guy who practically runs out of the room every time he kisses me.”

A low groan comes from behind me as I reach the shelf and run my finger over the titles, taking it all in only to find all of my favorite authors and I realize that maybe I do have a little something in common with the bitch twins after all. “Are you trying to pull some wicked Beauty and The Beast bullshit on me, Mr. Carrington, because it’s not going to work.”


Tags: Sheridan Anne Rejects Paradise Romance