Page 9 of Save Me the Trouble
“You’re not like the others.” His stare measured me—how far I was willing to let him go. How much I was willing to take.
“Thank you.” I wouldn’t let that be anything less than a compliment, no matter how he meant it.
“Alright, Miss Johnson, what do I need to do to make you go away?” he asked with a voice that had that same bitter cold of the ocean in winter.
I beamed.Triumph.“Video clips with serious answers to my questions. Photographs for your profile—not professionally taken ones.” I needed to show off therealKillian. Not the polished face of the Crown. “And then I’d like to observe you in your day-to-day routine so I can really gather the essence of your personality.”
“Essence?” He arched an eyebrow.
I wished my cheeks had a light switch. Or a breaker. Better to turn the entire blush circuit off.
“Data. I need as much data about you and your preferences as possible.”
His eyes flicked to his phone, the light flashing with an incoming call.
“Fine.” He stood. “Come back tomorrow morning.”
My jaw dropped, and then I quickly snapped it shut.Was that it?I rose and followed him to the door.
“What time?”
“Seven a.m. First thing.”
Seven—“Great. Thank you?—”
“I want to get you out of the way.”
Asshole.I swallowed down the rest of my gratitude and retorted, “And here I thought it was because you realized it might take an entire day to findonemarketable quality of yours.”
I swore I saw his shoulders shake—almost like I’d managed to pull a laugh out of him.Yeah, right. I’d have better luck drawing water from a stone than a laugh from this Crown.
“Oh, it will take more than a single day, Ms. Johnson.” He pulled the door open with a smile. “Now, a single night on the other hand…”
I spun and stared him down. He mocked me. But he also mocked himself. He wanted me to believe he was worth nothing more than his face and fortune.Why?
“I take my job very seriously, Mr. Crown. And I intend on creating a profile that will have scores of women ready to fall in love with you—the real you.”
His eyes glinted. He didn’t like that last bit—my saying it or my seeing it.
“I have no doubt, Miss Johnson. After all, it only took you less than a second of meeting me to fall for me.”
His gaze lingered on mine for a moment longer than necessary, and then he closed his office door in my face.
I gasped and then muttered to the silent wood, “And only less than ten minutes in your presence to realize why I’ve got my work cut out for me.”
I should’ve felt relief walking out of his office building. He was as cold and egotistical as I’d expected, and that should’ve saved me the trouble of worrying about my instant attraction to him. But for some reason, it didn’t.
Instead, with every barb we’d traded, I felt the need to know more.Because it was my job,a voice inside me insisted. Except the voice sounded a little panicked…like it might be more than that. Like despite his prickly demeanor and evasive answers, there was an undercurrent of something running between us just waiting to ignite.
Chapter Three
Killian
She was invigorating.
Grace Johnson.
For the whole of yesterday, my blood had hummed with ungrounded energy lingering from our conversation. I’d had plenty of things to distract myself—meetings, contract review, conference calls—but nothing quelled the curiosity that gnawed at my gut.Who was this woman?
