Every Girl's Secret Fantasy by Robyn Grady Read Free Book Online

authority as a royal wore his crown. If Steve started a fight, Pace would finish it.
    Steve narrowed assessing eyes, flared his nostrils, but ultimately slid his hands in a conciliatory manner into his chinos’ pockets.
    â€œI don’t have a beef with you, Davis. I want to speak to my employee.”
    Pace grinned without humour. “She’s clocked off.”
    Steve’s eyes flashed, but then he slowly smiled—a knowing, man-to-man grin. Scratching his temple, he uttered an aside. “I wouldn’t waste my time if I were you.” He wrinkled his nose, as if to say, I’ve been there and she’s not worth it.
    While Phoebe’s throat closed and her hands fisted by her sides, Pace replied, “Thanks for the tip. Here’s one for you.” He stepped into the lesser man’s space. “If I ever hear you speak like that again, I’ll break your jaw.”
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    When Pace opened the Aston Martin’s passenger side door Phoebe, apparently still dazed, automatically slid in. A moment later Pace positioned himself behind the wheel and, still fuming, clipped his seatbelt on. That unscheduled meeting with his brother earlier—and chewing it over in the studio all morning—had put him in the right mood to deal with that pompous ass. Any man who insulted a woman needed a crash course on “manners or else”. He was almost sorry Trundy hadn’t shaped up.
    â€œSorry about that,” Phoebe muttered into her lap. “Steve can be a real jerk sometimes.”
    â€œYou don’t need to apologise.” Pace ignited the engine and swerved the vehicle out of the park. “Except maybe to yourself. I’m guessing there’s a history between you two that goes beyond nine to five.”
    None of his business, perhaps, but, dammit, he was bristling and he wanted to know.
    Staring blankly out of the window, she gnawed on a thumbnail. “It was a mistake.”
    Understatement of the year.
    â€œI have a policy.” He steered out onto the main drag. “Keep work separate.”
    â€œExcept in my case?”
    He frowned across. “We don’t work together.”
    â€œWe’re connected through business.”
    â€œLoosely.”
    She gave him a flat look. “Your company sponsors my show.”
    â€œMarketing isn’t my department. I was only at that sponsorship event where we met because my br—”
    He bit off the word and, acid rising in his gut, cleared his throat. She didn’t need to know that much about his background. Frankly, he didn’t want to discuss it.
    â€œThe president of the company,” he amended, “wasn’t available.” Nick approved advertising budgets, among other things. Pace approved cars. “Besides, you can’t put me in the same category as that meathead.”
    Trundy’s insinuation played over in his mind again. It was so off beam Pace couldn’t help but grin.
    â€œWhat’s the joke?”
    â€œTrundy,” he said, “trying to tell me you’re a dud.” If Phoebe Moore was frigid, he wore wings and ballet shoes after midnight.
    Rubbing her arms and crossing her legs, she slid a wary look over. “What makes you so sure he isn’t right?”
    Pace grabbed the gearstick and changed down. “Let me pull over and I’ll show you.”
    The way she responded when his mouth covered hers was proof enough. Her surrender was instinctive and, to put it mildly, highly arousing. Phoebe wasn’t frigid. She wasn’t even hot. She was scorching .
    Letting him kiss her a second time said that she was finally leaning towards his way of thinking—that they owed it to themselves and each other to take this fierce attraction to the next electrifying level. To leave off finishing what they’d started today would be a crime. He only wished she didn’t have somewhere else to be.
    But there was always tomorrow. He’d waited this