SEVER by Jane, Melissa (best fiction books to read .txt) 📗

“Um… yes… well, I’ve given it some thought, and while I’m still apprehensive about the whole approach, I’ve decided to take on the project but on one condition.”

The elevator doors open and he follows me down the hall to my apartment. I pull out my swipe card but don’t scan it. I face Kane who towers at least a foot above me.

“And what would that be?”

“You can’t leave me floundering. I’m going in blind with this, and it’s a big gamble for my business to take on something so large-scale yet so mysterious. My business in my baby, so if you see I’m heading in the wrong direction, don’t let me flounder. You may have to guide me through, and perhaps even reveal a little more about your mystery establishment and trust me.”

He considers my words, not once breaking his hold. I can see he’s happy with my response. After all, the man’s gotten his way, just as he said he would.

“Blythe, you’re not capable of floundering… over anything. But I promise your gamble will pay off.”

While a heavy weight lifts off my shoulders, I still have a fleeting thought that I hope I won’t live to regret my decision.

Kane holds out his large hand. “So, we have a deal?”

If this is what it feels like to make a deal with the devil.

I take his hand which engulfs mine, and I feel the spark pass between us. I know he feels it too, the need to explore my body the same way I want to his. “Deal,” I murmur because that’s all I can manage.

Kane turns my hand, lifts it to his lips and gently kisses while locking eyes to mine. A shiver of delight courses through my body, the same feeling I imagine his lips would give when trailing kisses.

Lowering my hand, Kane steps away, his eyes hooded with a lust I too share for him.

“Welcome to my world, Blythe Blakely.”

~

“Well, he didn’t eat you alive,” Amanda states, rather disappointed. She leans against the doorframe with her arms folded.

I glance from my laptop. “I don’t know what you mean by that. And I’m not sure I want to know.”

She scoffs and makes her way in, taking a seat on the sofa. “Don’t play little miss innocent with me. You’re missing the morning-after glow I expected you to have.”

Taking off my glasses, I laugh at her presumption. “Amanda, I went to a business dinner, not a Tinder hook-up.”

Despite her evident disappointment, there’s a glimmer of hope. “Well, was there any flirting?”

“Maybe.”

She leans forward expectantly. “Who did the flirting?”

“Him, of course.” She raises a perfectly shaped brow. “And maybe a little bit me.”

“So, no sex?”

“No, not even a kiss. Kane was the perfect gentleman.”

She sighs, resigned to the fact that today there will be no juicy details. “Okay, so… what did you discuss about his project?”

I lean back in my chair and cross one leg over the other. “We’re going to do it.”

Her eyes widen. “Did he reveal more about it or tell you why he’s keeping it so secret?”

I shake my head, wishing my answer could be different. “He didn’t give me an inch. But I’m going to need you to set up a meeting with a…” I look to the circled name on the paperwork, “… with Kane’s second in charge, Joseph.”

“Consider it done. But wait one sec… so, you agreed to the project based on the same conditions set at the beginning?”

“That’s right.”

She laughs. “He must have worked you over real good.”

~

The clock on the dash turns 6:10, and as expected, Samantha exits the gym after her habitual HIIT session. With her gym bag slung over one shoulder, she’s busy texting and unaware I’m watching from across the road.

“Always glued to your cell but can’t spare a second to call your sister back,” I grumble.

Samantha crosses the parking lot, unlocks her BMW—a car well beyond her budget—and in a matter of seconds, she’s starting the engine and pulling out of the lot.

“Shit,” I mutter, accidentally hitting the high beam instead of the indicator. The light flashes Samantha in the eyes as she looks up the road checking for traffic. She squints against the glare, but I sink far enough down in my seat that she won’t see me.

“Damn German-made cars,” I curse, having to remember the indicators and lights are on the opposite sides. Peering over the dash, I see the tail end of Samantha’s car as she cruises down the street. Quickly pulling out, to the disapproval of the motorist next to me, I follow Samantha through the busy peak-hour streets. She drives in typical Samantha fashion, unnecessarily weaving in and out of traffic.

“You’re a mad woman, sister,” I murmur, then sigh in relief as she turns down a quiet suburban street. Pressing the brakes, I allow Samantha to put some distance between us. Although it’s dark, I can’t have her catching me. She slows and eventually pulls into a drive, turns off the engine and runs up the porch steps, disappearing inside. I park two houses away and take in my surroundings.

This is an affluent street, a far cry from where she last resided.

“What the hell do you do, Sammy?” I ask nobody.

Climbing out of the car, I remind myself to not look so purposefully stalkerish. No lights shine from the house next door, telling me the occupants aren’t yet home from work. A tall, wooden fence separates the properties, and I sidle up against it, sinking down beside the living room window where I see Samantha organizing her handbag for the night.

Unlocking my cell, I go to recents and hit Samantha’s name. Pressing the volume control to quieten the ringing on my end, so I hear it through the window, I