Curves in the Dark (Billionaire BBW erotic romance)

Curves in the Dark (Billionaire BBW erotic romance) by Delia Dirk Read Free Book Online Page B

Book: Curves in the Dark (Billionaire BBW erotic romance) by Delia Dirk Read Free Book Online
Authors: Delia Dirk
of a laugh made it to her ears. “You'd be wrong about the Catholic thing anyway. Well, the 'practising' part, at least.”
     
    “You'll never convince me you're Sherlock Holmes at this rate.”
     
    “How do you know I'm not Sherlock Holmes?” he teased gently.
     
    “Well he's supposed to be charismatic for one.”
     
    That one also got ignored as he barrelled on into another thought. “We could trade questions. Better yet, we could trade deductions. You know, to get to know each other better.”
     
    “What? So you can keep doing your bad Holmes impression?” But it wasn't a bad idea. Not at all, since maybe she could work around to figuring out why he was so unwelcome here.
     
    “I'm serious. I think it'd be fun. I want to see what you make of me.” That was definitely too much smugness for one man.
     
    “And what if what I make of you isn't good ?”
     
    “ I think we both know you wouldn't hesitate to brush me off if you thought badly enough of me, broken elevator or no. I can deduce that much.”
     
    Dominique brimmed with pride at the complement. “I think that counts as a deduction, Leo. That means I get to go first.” The darkness made the whole thing a bit more interesting, if interesting was the right word.
     
    “ Let's see,” she began, “you said you moved from Ireland to the US for college. Ireland has some really strong schools, so it's got to be somewhere especially good. Plus you're obviously doing something important today, so you've gotta have a good job. I'm going to say... Ivy League?”
     
    “ Good guess.” Dominique pictured a conceding nod. “It was Harvard.”
     
    “ Well someone's got to go there, I guess,” she laughed, not unkindly.
     
    “ And from your accent and your name I'd say you were from some equivalent of the Hamptons,” he said shrewdly. Entirely too shrewdly for her.
     
    “ Wow. It's that obvious?” she asked, her good humour evaporating. “I guess I should put out a PA that I think the whole old money business is bullshit.” D ran a hand through her hair, happy to have the darkness there to separate them. Then again it might have been the reason he could see through her: she didn't exactly look like a fragile socialite. Normally her past wasn't a problem – hell, it was an advantage in the business world – but she didn't want to come off badly to the man and she somehow felt judged.
     
    “ It's probably not obvious to an American,” Leo soothed. “I'm just good with accents. Plus I get around a lot. I don't even live here in LA.”
     
    A few of Dominique's feathers unruffled but Leo's quick observation left her feeling raw, not to mention a little too much like lashing out. “Do you travel for work?” she blurted lamely. Not exactly the cutting observation she was going for.
     
    “ Yeah. A lot right now and a lot a few years ago but it's not a regular thing.” He must be eager to get off such an uncomfortable subject.
     
    “ Like every... four years?” Dominique ventured.
     
    “ Oh! That was good. You're right on the money there.”
     
    “ Well it's been on everyone's mind lately.” Smugness was quickly disarming her again. “So you work for the president's campaign?”
     
    “ Not quite.”
     
    She considered. “The White House?”
     
    “ I think you've passed one deduction,” Leo said. D huffed softly. She was on a roll. “My turn.” He hesitated before saying, “You must be in business. That's pretty much a given. You said you were closing a deal with them. Rich girl like you...” and she could practically hear him wince over the misstep, “You must have gone to a good school. Definitely Ivy League as well, if not something in England. Probably Ivy League, though. People like your folks usually like to keep it in the country. Probably have a tradition about the whole thing.” He was rambling. Nervous. It was a bit sweet, really, and kept the subject from being distasteful.
     
    “ You sound like you were

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