Page 2 of Before We Say I Do

Mr. Smalls slipped his hands into his pockets, then boasted, “Regina’s just snagged the September issue of Vogue.” Mr. Smalls smiled wide. “She’ll make a great wife someday.” He glanced at Kyle. “And I wouldn’t mind having you as a son-in-law.”

Regina’s soft laugh and low-cut eyes were geared toward Kyle, who grinned. “That is a compliment I hardly ever get,” Kyle had teased.

Mr. Smalls cajoled, “Well, in the event that you decide to ask for her hand in marriage, just skip asking me.”

Kyle could admitthat he didn’t see that one coming, but he’d kindly declined their offer, not to offend Ms. Smalls, but his heart belonged to someone else. Regina stormed off that night, scowling at Kyle whenever he glanced around to catch her staring at him. But the night had been fruitful for investors, which made him wonder why Regina was standing in his office now.

“If Mr. Smalls needs to contact me about anything related to business, he has my number. There’s no need to send you.” Kyle slipped his hands inside his pockets, watching a smirk etch at the corners of Regina’s mouth.

“This isn’t about my father.” She twirled his leather high-back office chair to face her, then untied the knot in her belted knee-length trench coat and slipped her arms out before tossing it over his desk and taking a seat in his chair.

“You and I should have a conversation. It’s important. One that I think you’ll be interested in discussing.”

He kept his gaze on hers until she propped her feet on his desk, her heels a sharp edge as she crossed her legs at the ankles.

Regina wouldn’t be ignored, and Kyle was no fool. She wanted to be seen. Felt. Making the foolish mistake to think she could turn his attention by simply flaunting her beauty in the skin-tight cat-suit that held her curves hostage.

Before London Jones, his fiancée, Regina would’ve been right. But this was post-London.

“Ms. Smalls.”

“Please, call me Regina.”

He eyed her sturdily. “Ms. Smalls. You of all people should know when I have my mind made up about something, I cannot be deterred.”

“I think you’ll—”

“And I am not interested in participating in whatever games you came here to play,” he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted him.

Regina sighed. “You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Valentine. I’ve got to say, I admire you for that. London, is it? She’s a lucky girl. I should ask her what her secret is for bagging a Valentine.”

“You make it sound like we’re a limited-edition item on a shelf, Ms. Smalls.”

“Regina,” she cut in with a little attitude.

He smirked. Just her wanting to be on a first-name basis let him know she wanted more than anything to level personally with him, but he took pleasure in not giving her that, if even for a minute.

“And in a way, you are a limited-edition. Take it as the compliment it’s meant to be. Anyway, I think you’ll want to have this conversation with me.”

“And why would I want that?”

She held his piercing gaze and fought not to drop her eyes to his wide nose and succulent lips.

“Because it’s about London.”

The room fell quiet. Kyle wondered what Regina could have to say about London that would warrant a conversation longer than the one they were having now, and Regina felt a hint of victory as she watched him reason within himself.

“Talk,” his deep voice drummed.

“Not here, my place. Six p.m., tonight.”

Kyle tsked. “There it is.”

“What?”

“Tell me, Ms. Smalls.”

“Regi—”

---