Devilishly Wicked by Kathy Love Read Free Book Online Page B

her in the direction of the restaurant side.
    “Two,” he said to the woman standing at the hostess station, surveying a seating chart. She automatically reached for two menus before looking up to see them. When she caught sight of him, she dropped the menus, fumbling to retrieve them.
    Vaguely, he was aware of the hostess’s attraction to him. But her desire was a pale comparison to Georgia’s heady scent. The hostess’s scent was like a poor knockoff of an expensive perfume, whereas Georgia’s was the real deal, and worth every penny.
    “Welcome,” the woman said, still clearly flustered by Tristan. But she recovered enough to offer him a coy smile.
    Tristan didn’t return the look.
    “Right this way.”
    Tristan nodded his thanks, then allowed Georgia to go ahead of him. He watched the sway of Georgia’s hips and that perfectly rounded derriere. He imagined taking her from behind. Would she struggle at first, if he just bent her over? Or arch her back and give him exactly what he wanted. He discovered both options excited him.
    He nearly made a moan of disappointment as she slid into the booth the hostess directed them to. He missed the view already.
    Tristan took a seat across from her, and discovered he was just as pleased to take in Georgia’s amazing cleavage and truly lovely face.
    After a moment, he realized the hostess still lingered. He raised an eyebrow in silent question. The hostess shifted, seeming to realize she didn’t have anything else to say. So she simply mumbled, “Enjoy your meal,” and then walked away.
    “Does that ever get tiring?” Georgia asked with a smile. But he noticed it didn’t quite reach her dark brown eyes.
    “Does whatever get tiring?”
    “The adoration from women as soon as they see you?”
    Ah, she was jealous. He rather liked that idea. His Peaches being possessive.
    “I didn’t notice,” he said, which wasn’t quite honest. He had noticed, but he didn’t care. He just wanted Peaches’ adoration.
    At the moment, he amended. Peach was currently his flavor of the month.
    “Isn’t this place great?” he said, not wanting to talk about other women.
    Georgia looked around, and then nodded approvingly. “It’s definitely pretty cool. Still not your sty—” She caught herself.
    Tristan smiled. “I’m telling you, Peaches, a whole lot of things about me would surprise you.”
    “Oh, I have no doubt about that,” she agreed, and it was her turn to sound wry.
    But before he could question her about what she meant, exactly, she looked down at her opened menu and asked, “So which hero is your favorite?”
    “I like ‘The Works.’ ”
    She found it on the menu. “Wow, that really is the works. Everything but the kitchen sink. That thing has to be enormous.”
    “It is,” he agreed. “But I’m not really into moderation. I have a great fondness for overindulgence.” He gave her one of his pointed looks and instantly she blushed.
    She returned her attention to her menu.
    “I should have known your home state from your resumé,” he said suddenly.
    She looked back up, surprised. “You were the one who hired me? I always assumed it was Finola.”
    He laughed at that. “Since you worked for her, I’d think you would have realized she didn’t do anything for herself. Not when others could do it for her.”
    “I-I—” She clearly didn’t know the correct response. Georgia was a smart lady. She knew he was telling the truth, but she also knew any negative response could be unprofessional and potentially come back to bite her. So, instead, she changed the subject. “Did you hire her other personal assistants by just looking over their resumés, then calling to tell them they had the job? No interviews or anything?”
    “Well, the way Finola went through assistants, it hardly seemed worth the effort.”
    “Well, there goes my theory that I was hired sight unseen because my resumé just popped when compared to all the others,” she said with a