Page 44 of Ruthless Heir

When I step through the sliding glass doors the fresh morning air greets me, along with the rhythmic swishing sound of someone swimming.

I walk along the concrete path leading to the pool and realize it’s him.

When Rachel said Asher was by the pool I thought he'd be reading the papers and drinking coffee, notinsideit doing the backstroke with the strength and skill of an Olympic swimmer.

His arms cut through the water like blades and I find myself staring at him, utterly fascinated.

As he glides effortlessly through the water, a hazy memory comes back to me of him and Josh hanging out in the pool at my parent’s old house. I was ten, so that made them eighteen.

I used to watch Asherallthe time but as I stared at his abs with all those chiseled muscles, that was the first time I truly felt attracted to him.

Moments later he swims over to the poolside and pulls himself out. Then I feel it again—attraction.

My eyes glue to his body and I notice how every part of him exudes a magnetic pull that’s impossible to ignore.

The water cascades off his muscular frame in shimmering rivulets highlighting the defined lines of his torso, where intricate tattoos weave across his chest and down his sides.

I’d forgotten he had so many.

There’s a hawk, a spider, Japanese characters and other cool things. Each design adds to the allure of his rugged yet refined appearance.

Of course Asher’s body is the type you’d expect to see on a magazine cover but there's something more—an effortless confidence in the way he moves.

A man like him knows the effect he has like the back of his hand.

His gaze meets mine and my breath catches. There's an intensity in his eyes. The same as yesterday. But there’s something more there, too, that I can’t put my finger on.

With his eyes fixed on me he picks up a towel and casually runs it over his hair then drapes it over his shoulders. Then he shifts his weight from one foot to the other and stares at me, a silent invitation to go to him.

I bite the inside of my lip and will myself to move once more, wondering if we’ll argue again.

He might even tell me to ask Jack for the lift.

No, Asher wouldn't do that after practically forbidding me to see Jack.

I walk toward him and he straightens.

"Morning.” I keep my tone cool and calm.

He raises his brows. "So, she’s talking to me again."

“I need something from you.”

He grins and I hate the way those stupid dimples in his cheeks make him look that much sexier. "What do you need from me?"

"A ride into the city. I have a violin lesson.”

“Are you sure you wantmeto give you a ride?”

“There are no Ubers and Olga is at the market. I’ll just need a ride there. I can make my way back.”

He stares back silently for a few moments and I think he’s going to throw back another snarky comment, but instead he gives me a curt nod. "I'll be ready in fifteen minutes. Wait for me in the living room."

"Thank you." I turn and walk away but feel his gaze on me. I look over my shoulder and confirm he's watching me.

I head back to my room and grab my violin then I go to the living room where I wait for him.

True to his word, Asher is ready to go fifteen minutes later.

---