Page 22 of Hard and Fast (Italian Stallions 2)

Then, yesterday, she’d been treated to her very first mani-pedi, and Gage had indeed found a way to stop her from biting her nails, given the acrylics they’d applied. After the manicure, he’d taken her hand, led her to the sidewalk, pulled her close—oh-so close—and whispered in her ear that a man loved the feel of a woman’s nails scratching his back, or using them to tickle their way down his chest to fist his cock.

She glanced down and admitted to herself that she loved the way her hands looked, though she was going to have to ask about making the nails a bit shorter. Typing on her keyboard had been a bitch today, and she wondered how in the hell women with long nails ever got a damn thing done on the computer.

Her frustration and constant cursing whenever she hit the wrong key had led Toby to ask why she was trying to look like a girl all of a sudden. Four days in, and that was the first time any of the guys in her department acknowledged the changes she’d made in her appearance. She’d simply looked at him and reminded him shewasa fucking girl.

Last night, she’d been wondering if all the effort was even worth it…until she’d gotten home the same time as her new neighbor, David, who’d not only made eye contact but introduced himself! And Penny, for the first time ever, had managed to string together three whole sentences without sounding like a fool. David was new to Philly, single, a lawyer, and he now knew she was also single, worked in cybersecurity, and was available to answer any questions he might have about the city.

Score one for Operation New Beaumont.

She didn’t have a clue what today would bring. Gage had told her not to bring her car to work because he’d be driving her home, so she’d taken the El.

Knocking on the door, she entered after he called out, “Come in.”

He smiled when he saw her. “You’ve perfected the hair and the makeup.”

She was pleased by his compliment and thrilled with the way she looked. But damn if it didn’t take a lot of work. She’d had to set her alarm an hour earlier every day this week and she’d still been late. “Thanks, but these nails have to go.”

Gage frowned. “Why?”

“Because I can’t type with them. Today was an experiment in torture. I nearly ripped them off at lunchtime, but…”

He crossed his arms. “Nearly, or you tried to?”

“Fuckers are on there tight.”

He narrowed his eyes. “No ripping off the nails. You can go back to the salon this weekend and ask them to file them shorter. Okay?”

“Okay,” she muttered. “But you know it’s not just the typing. I nearly gouged my eyes out this morning, trying to put the contacts in with these claws.”

Gage chuckled. “Never considered how treacherous life is for women until this experiment with you.”

“Very funny. What’s on the agenda for today?”

Gage stepped closer, walking around her as he took in her outfit. “Wardrobe. You need a new one.”

She shook her head. “Not a whole wardrobe. I have plenty of clothes.”

“Are any of them sexy?”

She looked down at her mom jeans and faded black men’s T-shirt that said, “IT. I’m just in it for the cache.”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say no. Probably not.”

Gage laughed. “Good answer.”

“I just need a couple sexy outfits,” she insisted.

“Mm-hmm.” He was totally ignoring her. “Come on.” He placed his hand on the small of her back and led her out of his office, closing and locking the door behind them. His hand remained on her back the entire ride down in the elevator to the parking garage beneath the building.

Part of her “favor” had included sex, but so far, with the exception of Gage’s too-brief touches at the end of each night, he hadn’t mentioned when they might move forward with those particular lessons.

She hoped it was sooner rather than later because her girl parts were hungry. Starving.

Gage hit the button to unlock the doors on his Audi A8 then opened the passenger door for her. “Your chariot, my lady,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes, but only to try to hide how charmed she was by his old-fashioned, gentlemanly gesture. They talked about work stuff until they arrived at his destination, an upscale boutique on Rittenhouse Row. Rather than open her door to get out, Penny reached across the console, grasping Gage’s forearm.

“No more paying for stuff,” she said. She’d fought—and lost—this same argument every single day, but this time she was determined to win. “I’m not getting out of this car until you promise you’ll let me pay for whatever I pick out.”

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