Page 44 of Billionaire Unreachable: Wyatt

Shelby reached out and laid her hand on my forearm. “So now you probably think that no woman will ever care about anything except your money? She was wrong, Wyatt. God, I’d really like to bitch slap that woman into the stratosphere right now. She actually had a good guy, and she threw you away? She cheated on you while you were off somewhere serving our country? Unbelievable. She was the cold one, not you.”

I tried not to grin at Shelby’s indignation over a woman who had burned me years ago, but I was only partially successful.

I certainly wasn’t going to remind her that she hadn’t liked me at all a month or two ago.

I had no idea what I’d done to warrant her passionate defense, but I liked it.

One of the many things that I liked about Shelby was her unwavering support of family and the people she considered friends.

I shrugged. “It happens fairly often. My mistake was thinking that it would never happen to me. But she was right about one thing. I am a cold bastard. About the only thing I really have to offerismy money.”

“I hate it when you say things like that,” she mumbled, sounding annoyed as she turned her chair to look at me directly because I was sitting sideways at the breakfast bar. “Because it’s not true.”

Amused, I requested, “Then please enlightened me, because most people find me highly unlikeable with no redeeming traits.”

“I don’t,” she said emphatically. “Okay, so maybe I got the wrong impression of you at first, but I think you’re just wary and cynical because you’ve been hurt pretty badly before. Not to mention the fact that you didn’t exactly see anything uplifting in all the years that you were in the military. You’re honest. You say exactly what you’re thinking without much of a filter, but I’d rather deal with someone who tells the truth than someone who lies. Cold bastards don’t help a woman they barely know, and they certainly don’t spend valuable free time trying to give them business advice.”

I lifted a brow. “Has it ever occurred to you that I might have ulterior motives for doing those things?”

She shook her head, her eyes still glued to mine. “Nope. What other possible reason could you have for being nice to a woman like me?”

Jesus!She really was clueless. “You’ve honestly never considered the possibility that I might be attracted to you and all of these so-called nice things I’m doing might be a ploy to get you into my bed?”

Suddenly, she burst into laughter, breaking our eye contact. “You’re joking, right?” she said as she recovered.

I grimaced as I questioned, “Why did you immediately assume that?”

“Because I’m…me. And you’re Wyatt Durand, an incredibly hot, brilliant billionaire. Women like me wouldn’t even be on your radar. I’m a curvy female who rarely wears much makeup, and my regular attire is mostly old jeans and a T-shirt because I work in a kitchen most of the day. You work in high-fashion and luxury products. You see gorgeous supermodels every day. I’m not your type.”

Okay. That answer really pissed me off. Shelby’s body was perfect, and she didn’t need a ton of makeup because she was naturally beautiful.

In fact, she was so fucking hot that I had to get myself off on a daily basis so I didn’t lose it with her.

I was a guy who had never understood why any woman needed to starve themselves to the point that they looked like a skeleton, even though I was in the fashion business.

Personally, I’d never found that attractive.

Obviously, her ex had screwed with her head so well and cut down her self-image to the point where she still hadn’t gotten over it.

“First,” I said irritably. “You obviously have no idea what I do all day. I don’t see models very often. I’m not a designer. My work is far from glamorous. Most of my time is spent in a conference room with middle-aged or elderly bald men. All of them just as eager as I am to make their business endeavors more successful. Second, you have no idea what my type of woman is or might be. I’ve never been attracted to a supermodel. And third, you get my dick hard every damn time I look at you. It seems that I have a weakness for gorgeous redheads with curvy bodies who think I’m an asshole.”

Fuck!I knew this topic was dangerous, but I was going there anyway.

It fried my ass to listen to the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen toss out self-deprecating comments that couldn’t be further from the truth.

I understood that she’d been manipulated and made to feel like she was nothing, but Shelby Remington was something. Probably the most incredible woman I’d ever known.

In reality,shewas way too good forme, and I knew it, but it didn’t stop me from wanting to claim her anyway.

My balls were bluer than a damn Smurf’s from being this close to her day after day, and until tonight, she’d never given me any indication that she might be as attracted to me as I was to her.

But tonight, right at this very moment, I thought I could see lust in those stunning eyes of hers, and I was ready to find out if this unholy attraction went both ways. For some reason I didn’t completely understand, I couldn’t help myself, even though I knew I’d be screwed if it did.

I actually enjoyed seeing the surprised expression on her face when I slammed a hand on both of the armrests of her chair, effectively keeping her from going anywhere until I was finishedexplaining.

“Wyatt!” she squeaked, her emerald green eyes staring at my lips before locking with mine.

Oh, hell yes, she wanted me, and that knowledge made me happier than I’d been in a very long time.

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