Page 72 of The Re-Proposal

“Is that why you did it?” I narrow my eyes at him. “To shut me up so you could weasel your way into the foundation without any arguments?”

“I don’t weasel into anything.”

“No, you just slither on the ground like a snake.”

Cody sets down the folder decisively and slides across the backseat. He leans in, dancing green flames for eyes. Up close, his classically handsome features are glaringly apparent, far too intimidating, and almost otherworldly.

“You compared me to a weasel and a snake,” he whispers. “Any other animals you want to throw in there before I retaliate?”

My heart bangs around my ribs like a patient trying to escape from an asylum. “That depends on your method of revenge.”

Cody takes my whispered words as an invitation. Before I know it, his hands are reaching for my face. I let out a gasp when his skin grazes my cheek and down my chin, lifting my head slightly.

His thumb caresses my jaw and a sizzling spark flashes through the both of us.

Electricity.

I feel it snap through my own body but, from Cody’s darkening gaze, I know he feels it too.

I tell myself to look away, but his dark, delicious eyes hold me fast, demanding my surrender. Our gazes are fused and I can’t untie the knot.

The car stops at that moment.

Through my peripherals, I see Cody’s driver looking curiously at us.

“We’re here,” I croak, breaking the connection. Scooting backward like the car’s on fire, I throw the door open and spring into the cold air, sucking in buckets and buckets of oxygen.

I’m getting way too caught up in him.

Cody Bolton with his designer suits and arrogant voice can render any woman speechless. But when he lays all that thick charm on me, I go temporarily mad.

Stay strong, Clarissa.

But that’s easier said than done.

* * *

Cody movesout of the car and brushes close to me. I battle the instinct to grab his hand when I lead the way to the front lawn.

Hopefully, once we focus on our mission, all this flirting and tension will go away.

“Interesting design scheme,” Cody mumbles.

I glance at the giant banner on the rusty trailer that reads ‘Beware the Second Coming’. Religious symbols litter the unkept yard and there’s a giant red slash that looks like blood on the trailer’s front door.

“This is… unexpected,” Cody says, buttoning his suit. “Maybe I should have brought Doberman.”

Nerves twist in my stomach.

I wish he’d brought his security team too.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I mumble. “Erica said her parents were religious, but she never mentioned them being dangerous.”

Cody looks unconvinced.

I knock on the door.

A thin woman with a face that looks like a prune that’s been drying in the sun for years opens the door. Her brown eyes slash through me and Bolton.

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