The Billionaire's Touch (The Sinclairs #3) by J. S. Scott Read Free Book Online Page B

couldn’t seem to find the right words to say to a woman like her—maybe because he’d never met anyone quite like her before.
    Evan nearly flinched as she licked a smudge of chocolate from her lips and held up a gooey chocolate pastry she was holding with a napkin underneath the bottom. He continued to stare at her intently as he watched her eyes close and her tongue lap up the remaining sweetness from her plump, succulent lips before retreating back into her mouth.
    “I’m afraid I smudged chocolate on it, too,” she informed him solemnly, her eyes open again.
    “Not a problem,” he told her in a clipped voice, knowing he’d probably let her stain every item of clothing he owned if he could just sit and watch her eat the rest of what looked like a slightly dented éclair.
    One thing he’d noticed about Randi in the past was when she ate, she looked like she was having an almost orgasmic experience. She wasn’t shy, and she dug into food like she thoroughly enjoyed every bite. The pleasure she found in food showed on her face and her expressions. Evan found that odd, but fascinating.
    “Hold my coffee,” she insisted as she hastily shoved the cup she was holding into his empty hand. “I have napkins.” She dug into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a wad of disposable paper, moving behind him to swipe at the stain on his coat. “What are you doing out here in the common population? I thought you despised anything that took you away from your business.”
    “I slum it with the commoners occasionally,” Evan shot back sarcastically, automatically. Her snide comment had triggered his defenses. He glanced down at her coffee, noting that it had a double helping of whipped cream, and it looked anything but nonfat.
    Throwing the napkins in a nearby trash can, Randi stood in front of him once more, her eyes shooting daggers at him. Strangely, he preferred her anger to her indifference. He had no idea why.
    She took her coffee back and proceeded to take an enormous bite of her éclair as though daring him to say something about her eating junk. “Send me a bill,” she told him, her gaze challenging him.
    “I don’t think that will be necessary,” he told her in a sedate voice, with a calmness he wasn’t really feeling. “Maybe you could just be more careful in the future.”
    “Me?” Her expression turned to one of astonishment. “I wasn’t the one who stopped right outside the door. The place is busy. You could have kept moving when you knew that people were coming in and out.”
    Evan looked behind him, realizing he had actually stopped right outside the door. “You could have watched where you were going,” he argued, annoyed that she had a point. They’d moved away from the constant traffic to and from the coffee shop, but his abrupt stop might have caused her to run into him if she’d been in motion. Not that he’d admit he might be partly to blame. People watched the people in front of them where he came from, which was mostly large cities. If they were in traffic, the car in the rear would have the responsibility of stopping before it crashed into the back of the car in front. It should work the same way with people.
    Randi finished her sweet treat and wiped her fingers with another napkin before depositing it into the trash, ignoring him. Finally, she replied, “I’m sorry. I’m human. I make mistakes.”
    Apologetic words might be coming from her mouth, but Evan knew she was mocking him. “Perfection can be hard to achieve,” he told her mildly, knowing his arrogant statement would rile her.
    She turned her back on him and began walking down the sidewalk, calling over her shoulder, “Send me a bill, Mr. Perfect. I’ll take care of my horrible aberration.”
    He watched her navigate her way through the snowy walkway, wondering where in the hell she was going. Where was her vehicle? “Wait!” he called impulsively as she started to disappear in the dark. He followed her as she