Page 24 of The Facilitator 1

“How…?”

“Oh, forgive me.” He placed both bottles in one hand, the necks between his fingers and held out his other hand for a shake. “Mackenzie Miller,” hesaid.

I frowned but couldn’t stop the twitch of a smile. I took his hand and gave it a firmshake.

“Lauren Perry,” I replied. “Like thechampagne.”

“Laurent Perrier, close though, and just as nice on the tongue,” hesaid.

I laughed and shook my head. “So, red or white?” heasked.

“Red.” I took the bottle from him and closed the apartmentdoor.

I covered my mouth to stifle the giggle. I was thirty years old and giggling like a schoolgirl. I gave it a minute before looking through the spy hole. I couldn’t see him, but I could see the bottle of white on the floor. I stupidly opened the door to retrieve it. He stepped out from just beside thedoor.

“That was rude,” hesaid.

“Yep. Funnythough.”

“Hmm, not sure. Are you going to invite mein?”

“Before I do, how did you know where Ilived?”

“I dropped you off here,remember?”

“How did you know what doornumber?”

“I own the company you work for, therefore I own the personnel recordstoo.”

“I’m not sure I’d agree that you own them. Don’t you have such a thing as the Data Protection Act inAmerica?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “If we do, then I regularly breachit.”

I swung the door wide and gestured with my arm for him to enter. I’d play along for awhile.

“You didn’t call,” hesaid.

“Was I supposed to? Are you expecting me to come running to you all, ‘seduce me, Mackenzie? I’m a weak woman who needs a romance novel Dom.’ Well?” I’d used a childish voice to emphasise thepoint.

“No, I’m not attracted to weak women, they break too easily. I’m impressed with your knowledge of a romance novel Domthough.”

I huffed as I walked to the kitchen with the two bottles of wine. I held one up then the other. He pointed to thered.

“Although, maybe I should put you over my lap and spank that tight ass of yours,” hesaid.

“In yourdreams.”

“Fornow.”

Again, that fucking clenching started at his words. I’d need to do something about that. Maybe if I did some sit-ups, I’d have better control of my stomach muscles and could stop it fromhappening.

I handed him a glass of wine and took a sip of mine. It was a lovely wine; I hated to guess at thecost.

“Have you eaten?” heasked.

“Notyet.”

“There’s a great Chinese locally, we can order in, if you don’t want to do yourhair.”

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