Animal Instincts [The Andersons 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) by Marie Jermy Read Free Book Online Page B

why he should sell his share of the practice to Rex, when she sensed somebody watching her. The spicy scent she inhaled evoked a graphic image of Rex naked in the shower, warm water sluicing every virile inch of his powerful body. She shoved it aside and waited for that drawling Southern accent of his to fill her ears.
    “What are you doing?”
    Ramona swiveled around in her seat. Her “screw up in the bedroom department and the business side is bound to follow” philosophy took an instant nosedive. With damp hair and wearing snug-fitting faded jeans and a white T-shirt that accentuated the solid wall of his chest and bulging biceps, Rex was mighty tempting. Thankfully, so was the bottle of white wine and the two glasses he held. “Come and see for yourself.”
    He ambled over, poured her a glass, and read the screen over her shoulder. “What’s the catch?” he asked, meeting her eyes when he’d finished reading. His eyes flicked back to the screen. “Ah, you haven’t sent it.”
    She immediately swiveled around and clicked the “send” button. When she faced him again, her philosophy soared to its usual lofty altitude as his sensual mouth had hitched into the familiar smug smile. She sipped on her wine, watching him over the rim as he filled his own glass. “You know,” she said after a minute’s silence, “you never did tell me how Greg hired you.”
    Rex placed the bottle on the desk and perched on the corner, crossing his feet at the ankles. Again, as he’d been earlier that morning, he was barefoot. He appeared relaxed, but the tightening of his fingers around the stem of the glass as he downed half of its contents in one swallow said different. Pained shadows also lurked within his eyes. It was another minute before he spoke, giving Ramona the impression he was deliberating about exactly what he should and shouldn’t tell her.
    And she was right.
     
    * * * *
     
    Frankly, Rex thought it no concern of Ramona’s to know he’d been at the hospital awaiting test results on his “damaged” genes. He’d been relieved the results had been clear, but anger had set in when he remembered the poisonous remarks Stacey had hurled at him during one of their arguments, which led him to having the tests carried out in the first place.
    He’d been so angry that upon leaving the hospital’s parking lot, he’d mounted the curb and buried the front end of his 1983 Ford Mustang convertible into a fire hydrant. Soaking wet from the fountain of water raining down, his ego bruised more so than his body and cursing at the top of his voice for wrecking his beloved car, Stephens had been the only person brave enough to approach him and ask if he was okay.
    Stephens had stayed with Rex, and after being questioned by police, who surprisingly only issued him with a severe warning and the repair bill, they’d gone to a nearby coffee shop for one long and one very friendly and productive chat. The rest was history.
    “I crashed my car. Greg was the first on the scene. We got talking. And here I am.”
    “And here you are,” Ramona repeated. It was obvious she wasn’t happy with his brief explanation, but at least she didn’t press him further. She switched the laptop off and relaxed back in the chair, savoring the wine.
    “What’s Greg’s problem with women?” Rex asked in order to break the silence stretching between them.
    “He’s of the opinion that a woman’s place is in the home.” Ramona directed a disarming smile his way. “Mimi has a few things to say on that subject, and she’s not afraid to voice them. Many years ago, before she married, she and Greg were a couple, but he refused to commit when she told him she wanted to work.
    “I didn’t know this when I employed her, and when Greg saw her sitting on reception, I thought he was going to rival my mom’s volcanic temper.” She shrugged, and there was a certain sympathy to her tone. “I don’t think Greg’s forgiven himself for letting Mimi go.