Page 115 of Wicked Fantasies

Ty glanced over and noticed Gwen quietly taking in everything with a scowl on her face. From her perspective, he must look like the world’s most heartless bastard—getting his jollies from some bimbo before kicking her to the curb.

Dammit.

This was not the way he’d planned for this meeting to go. He desperately wanted—oh hell, heneededGwen to work with him on the project he’d invited her to California to discuss.

“You can let go of me now,” she said tersely.

“I can explain.” He heard the front passenger door slam, and the car took off with enough speed that he and Gwen were thrown back against their seats just as cameras began to flash around them.

With the car in motion, he released her wrist.

“You don’t owe me any explanations. I’m a big girl, and I’m perfectly aware of what was going on. Perhaps you should ask your driver to pull over so Bambi—was that her name?”

He nodded once and struggled to regain control of his increasing ire. “Gwen?—”

She ignored him. “So that Bambi and I can switch places. Clearly she wasn’t done, and as I have no intention of finishing what she started, I’d hate for you to die of an acute case of blue balls.”

He took several deep breaths, hoping it would calm him down, but clearly nothing was going to make today better. It had started its downhill spiral when his personal assistant quit first thing this morning.

Then his chef had inadvertently set a small fire in the kitchen because Ty’s insane ex-girlfriend had decided to sneak into the house and put his favorite pair of Gucci leather dress shoes in the oven. As a result, he’d asked his manager to change all the locks in his house to prevent the woman from enacting any other petty acts of revenge.

Then the co-producer for his current project threatened to walk over some minuscule plot point, and the studio bitched about the amount of money he’d spent on the film he’d just completed. The fact they stood to make a killing on the movie didn’t matter. Greedy bastards always wanted more.

Between the temp agency siccing Bambi on him and Gwen’s refusal to listen to his explanation, he felt as if his head was going to explode.

“I can only imagine how it must feel for a man with your legendary sex drive to?—”

“You may want to reconsider finishing that statement,” he barked. “Not one more word, Ms. Preston. I mean it.”

“Tell your driver to drop me off at the nearest hotel. I think our negotiations have ended.”

He shook his head, unsure where his anger toward Gwen had come from, but the fact of the matter was his cock had been soft as a down pillow when Bambi had been trying to blow him. That state had changed rapidly the second Gwen entered the limo.

She looked different in real person, but considering he’d only ever seen her once on a television interview, that wasn’t surprising. She was a petite, willowy blonde with porcelain skin, unusual in sunny California. Her bright blue eyes flashed sparks of anger at him, yet despite her ire, he was assailed with an instant attraction.

He was used to beautiful women. Hell, he was surrounded by them twenty-four seven. Gwen wasn’t beautiful by Hollywood standards, yet she was certainly striking, even alluring.

“Oh no, Gwen. Our negotiations haven’t even started yet.”

“I thought that you were different, but you really are as arrogant and chauvinistic as the tabloids say. I don’t usually believe those rags, but I think they were dead-on where you’re concerned. I’m going to tell you one more time to let me out of this car, Mr. Ransome, or I swear to God, I’ll slap you with a kidnapping charge so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

He grinned at her, aware the look only fueled her anger further. They’d corresponded through email and phone calls regularly during the past few weeks, and he had felt they were striking up a friendship. He regretted his harsh words, but he couldn’t shake the image of her on her knees in front of him. He’d have to make amends, because he wasn’t about to let her get away, regardless of her paltry threats.

“Gwen, I apologize for my rudeness. I can assure you I am the man from the phone calls. Today, well, my only excuse is that it has been a rather long, painful day.”

“It’s only ten a.m.”

He nodded and sighed heavily. “Nonetheless, I am sorry. How was your flight? Pleasant, I hope?”

She narrowed her eyes at his abrupt about-face and quick change of topic. “Mr. Ransome?—”

“Ty,” he corrected her. She’d been calling him Ty on the phone for weeks, and he loved the sound of his name spoken in her sultry voice.

She shook her head and started to refuse, but he reached over and placed a gentle finger against her lips.

“Call me Ty.”

He could tell by her erratic breathing she wasn’t as unaffected by him as she seemed. Perhaps she was also feeling the overwhelming heat that was making it difficult for him to concentrate despite the cool air-conditioning blowing over them.

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