The Temptation (Filthy Rich Americans #5) Read Online Nikki Sloane

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Filthy Rich Americans Series by Nikki Sloane
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Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
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My mouth went dry. She might have been the sexiest girl packaged in business appropriate clothing I’d ever seen.

As her charcoal-rimmed eyes scanned over me, I continued to stare back at her. The apples of her cheeks had the faintest hint of freckles. As if they’d been sprinkled on her skin in powder form and then softly blown away. Her watermelon-pink lips parted, showing off their glossy sheen as she drew in a preparing breath.

Damn. My family liked having beautiful things in this house, so this girl fit right in.

Woman, my mind corrected because she looked to be in her late twenties. Maybe even a year older than I was.

Her posture stiffened as she became acutely aware of our situation. How she’d barged into a bedroom unannounced, and there was now a possibility the client sleeping inside was naked beneath his sheets. She certainly knew I was shirtless, and even though she attempted to disguise her interest, I could tell she appreciated what she saw.

It burst from her in a rush. “I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t realize anyone was in here.”

Her voice was strong, yet feminine, and I liked the sound. Normally, I would have enjoyed how the sight of my bare chest left her flustered, but the truth was she had me just as affected—and she was fully clothed.

I still felt confident, but also weirdly vulnerable.

“It’s all right.” My voice was tight. “I take it you’re from the security company?”

She lifted her chin in a quick nod and stepped forward, ignoring the fact I was still in bed. “Yes, I’m with Sovereign Systems.” She thrust her hand out. “Emery Mendenhall.”

I peered at her offered handshake with skepticism, but she stayed firm, patiently waiting.

“Vance Hale.”

She subtly pressed her lips together when I accepted her offered handshake, and I had to fight the corner of my mouth from lifting into a smile. She was trying so hard to maintain professionalism despite the awkward situation. Was she wondering what lay beneath the covers across my waist? I had to make sure they didn’t shift any lower, or I’d be even more vulnerable.

Typically, I wasn’t the tiniest bit shy, and by no means tiny. In fact, I kind of enjoyed showing off my body.

She retreated from the handshake first and straightened. “I understand the sensor on the north-facing window gave you issues last night.”

“More like this morning,” I bit out.

Ms. Mendenhall pressed on. “I’ve cleared out the error and rebooted the system. All that’s left is for me to manually reset the unit.” She hesitated, unsure how to proceed. “Is it all right if I do that now? It will only take a moment.”

I tossed a hand toward the window. “Sure, go ahead.”

Her heels tapped across the hardwood as she moved to complete her task. Did she feel my gaze on her while she pushed the curtain back out of her way and examined the plastic box at the top of the window frame?

She wasn’t short, but the window was tall and narrow, and when she pushed onto her tiptoes and reached up to remove the cover, it was just a fingertip’s grasp too high. She lowered back the scant inch onto her heels, seemed to regroup, and tried again, but it was still out of her reach.

I yanked the bottom of the sheet free from where it was tucked in, wrapped it closed around my waist, and stood up. She was distracted, perhaps looking for a chair to pull over to stand on, so she didn’t notice my approach until I was abruptly right beside her.

I had a fist clamped on my hip to keep the sheet draped around me and my gaze fixed on her, and I savored the way she froze, trapped by me. All she could do was suck in a sharp breath.

Because I was standing so close.

Maybe too close. Like her makeup, I skirted the line of what was professional, and her gaze slid across my muscles, tracing a line from my bicep to my eyes when I lifted a hand and flipped up the plastic cover for her.

The air around us thickened with intimacy. I was essentially naked and in her space, and she was very aware of that. It was interesting and pleasing that she didn’t retreat.

Her voice fell to a hush, and her eyes hazed. “The chip.”

“What?”

She attempted to blink away the fog. “If you could take the chip out and then reseat it . . .”

It wasn’t any bigger than a postage stamp and came out of its clip easily. And as soon as that was done, I snapped it back into its slot with a quiet click. “Like this?”

“That’s it.” She tucked a lock of hair behind an ear. “You’re all set.”

I flipped the cover back down, lowered my arm, but otherwise didn’t move. She was the perfect mixture of classically beautiful and smoking hot. Her eyes were a deep blue, reminding me of the Atlantic on a perfect day for sailing.


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