Bound by Tinsel by Melinda Barron Read Free Book Online

and to contact her, breached a level of trust they’d built from their first night together. Sure, they’d talk about things she’d never talked about with other clients, but that didn’t give him the right to search her out.
    Since Burke would have told her last night that he knew she lived in
San Diego
, she was pretty sure the PI had found her in less than twenty-four hours. Hell, it had probably taken him less than two—or even one hour; a few clicks of the mouse and he’d probably been home free.
    “Son of a bitch.” She sat down at her desk, then gave an apologetic smile to Lindsey, who sat next to her. “Sorry.”
    Lindsey gave her a small smile and turned back to her computer. The more she thought about Burke tracking her down, the madder she got. The fact that she’d searched out his identity wasn’t the same thing. She’d found out who he was, yes, but she hadn’t tried to contact him.
    And she never would have. That was going too far. The idea of skipping the meeting flew out of her head. She’d go see him, all right; and she’d give him a piece of her mind.

Chapter Eight
     
     
    The building was huge. She’d driven by it lots of times but had never been inside. Messengers dropped off depositions and court records; court reporters didn’t run this type of errand. She worried about Sally’s reaction, and whether or not she would try to cause trouble over this . It wouldn’t surprise her if she did.
    The two had taken an instant dislike to each other, something that rarely happened to Fallon. She didn’t like to think of it happening now, or that it would come up and bite her on the ass where Burke was concerned.
    Burke. Somewhere inside this building he sat at his desk, waiting for her to come up. She had to stay strong and let him know this couldn’t happen. The only way to do that was to go in with guns blazing, to be madder than hell and let him have it.
    Yeah, good thinking Fallon. If you really felt that way why did you go into the bathroom and take your panties off? Her pussy was dripping wet at the prospect of seeing him. And she’d done what he’d asked her to do.
    Damn it! She slapped her fist against the steering wheel of her car, then whimpered as pain shot up her arm. Yeah, that was real bright, too.
    She snatched up the envelope and headed into the building.
    At the front she showed her ID to a security guard, who checked a sheet, and then buzzed her in. She went into the elevator, punching the number nine, and tried not to look nervous as the car made its ascent.
    After all, as far as anyone knew she was only here to drop off a deposition. They didn’t know she was a phone sex operator who was about to meet the man who’d made her orgasm as if it were the Fourth of July and she were a fireworks display.
    The elevator dinged and she stepped off. The receptionist’s desk was empty, but per the guard’s instructions, she turned to the left and headed down the hallway, her palms sweating as she counted off the doors: one, two, three—four.
    The door was open and from her vantage point she could see a long leather sofa sitting against the wall. There was a low table in front of it. She pushed the door open wider and walked inside. His office was bigger than the living room in her apartment. Off to the right was a small table with three chairs. In front of a bank of windows was a huge desk, behind which sat Burke Gordon.
    He watched her intently , his eyes alight with interest . “Hello, Fallon. Please close the door.”
    “I’d rather not.” She hurried to the desk and slapped the file down. “I shouldn’t be here.”
    “I think you look absolutely perfect in this office.” The look he gave her said he knew what she looked like naked, and she supposed in a way he did. They’d been wonderfully intimate with each other, talking about dreams and wishes, but they’d also been wonderfully nasty with each other, too, discussing sex and listening to each other orgasm.