Page 11 of The Lamb and the Llama
His face fell. “Yes. I’m aware. I know there’s not a lot of people who think too kindly of me.”
She held up her palms. “Now wait, hear me out. I heard all the talk about you being a chauvinist, but the more I get to know you, the more I can’t agree with the rumors. You aren’t a chauvinist. You have a general respect for women. Your only fault is that you’re a little old-fashioned about it. And who can fault you for that? I sure can’t!”
She patted his hand for reassurance, but the embers it stoked with the heat it left were undeniable to him. She really was his everything—hismate.
“I’m glad you see things that way. I never intended to piss my employees off. Quinn finally made me realize I ask a lot from my assistants.”
The server came with their meals, and they ate in comfortable silence, gazing at each other occasionally and smiling, but Richard wanted more.
“So, tell me a little more about yourself. I find it fascinating that you wanted to go into archeology before you decided to become a FUC agent.”
“Well, it’s not just archaeology.” She took in a breath before continuing. “I also loved art history.”
“Really? What are your favorite works?”
“The Starry Night,” she said enthusiastically. “I’m a big fan of Impressionists because of the brushstrokes. They have a calming effect on me when I gaze upon the paintings. But I think the artist I admire the most is Rembrandt. He was meticulous when he worked on portraits. It takes a special skill to work on your own mug first before you try painting others. For that I truly admire him because I don’t think I could do that myself. He really inspired me to try my hand at drawing.”
“You draw?”
“I can only do animals,” she said, ducking her head. “I suck at people’s faces. They just don’t look real to me. They look more like a character from the Brothers Grimm.” She laughed, and he could swear it filled the room.
“So, you’re a creative? Like, have you tried your hand at anything else? Sculpting, writing, or music, perhaps?” he asked as his eyes fixed on hers.
“Yeah. I’ve tried them all, but writing is probably my favorite. It’s kind of a guilty pleasure of mine to write about fictitious characters.”
“Really?”
She smiled brightly, and that made his dick twitch.
“Yup! And sometimes I write about them so I can kill them off in a story.” She pulled back slightly and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s sort of therapy in a way. You know—because killing is wrong.” She gave him a wry smile.
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I take it some people annoy you, and that is why you have this feeling of offing them in a book?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
She licked her lower lip, and Richard wanted to suck on it, just to have a taste of her. It was then that the server came with the bill.
“I’m just going to leave this here. If you need anything else, let me know.”
Richard glanced at his watch and discovered they’d already been at the diner for over an hour. He was the boss and could allot two hours for a lunch meeting, but as he gazed at her, he realized she was probably uncomfortable being away from the office for this long when she wanted to wrap things up. He plucked his card out of his wallet and handed it to the server, and she went back to the terminal to process the payment.
“Thanks again for lunch. The vegan meatloaf was delicious,” Amira said as she patted his hand. “Maybe we’ll do it again sometime.”
5
What the fuck am I doing?Amira asked herself once she was back at work.I was way out of line with him at lunch.
Heavy footsteps coming from the hall interrupted her thoughts. She’d just slipped her purse into her lower desk drawer when Stan appeared in the doorway.
“Is your boss available?”
“I’m sure he is. Let me call him on the intercom.”
“No need. Come with me,” Stan said to her as he reached for her wrist and practically dragged her into her boss’s office.
“What are you doing here, and why are you man-handling my assistant?” Richard demanded with an incredulous look on his face.
“Zagan escaped,” Stan announced, and Amira’s stomach dropped.
