King's Passion. Adrianne Byrd
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tall, with long flowing brown hair and blond highlights, this woman commanded attention like no one he’d ever seen before. Though her eyes were hidden behind a pair of fashionable bumblebee sunglasses, Eamon took time to note her high cheekbones and her thick kissable lips. And her body was sick. Sleek shoulders, high D-cup breasts, slim waist and butt that had just the right amount of jiggle when she walked.
“Now, this is more like it,” he said and then shifted in his seat to relieve some of the pain of his erection that was creeping down his right leg and threatening to escape his boxers.
“I’m looking for the owner,” the woman announced with a thinly concealed attitude.
Eamon didn’t answer. He was too busy taking in her tight, white-lace dress that hugged her body like a second layer of skin and just barely kissed the middle of her incredibly toned thighs.
Clearly impatient, his dream woman snatched off her glasses and proceeded to stare him down with her blazing green eyes. He froze, looking at her face and remembering.
“HELLO!” She snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Do you speak in English? ¿Habla inglés?”
Eamon finally broke out of his trance. “I’m sorry, what?”
She huffed out a breath and she settled a hand on her hips. “I said that I was looking for the owners.”
“Well, you’re in luck. You just found one of them. What are you going to perform for me today, honey?” He couldn’t stop the smile that was creeping across his face. The image of her slicked down with baby oil and swinging that incredible body around a golden pole had him feeling like a preteen schoolboy. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this—if ever.
“Perform?” She whipped her head around and finally took notice of the other scantily clad women behind her. When she turned back around, she was bubbling with laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She rocked her neck. “Do I look like someone who works a pole for a living?”
Eamon took the question as invitation to take another look at the incredible brick house in front of him. Apparently he was taking too long because she started clearing her throat.
“Are you done?”
Eamon’s gaze sprang back to her heated stare. “I guess I am now.” He leaned forward and planted his elbows on the table and then braided his hands together. “All right. I’ll bite. If you didn’t come here to audition today, then why are you here?”
Her lips spread into a tight smile as she reached inside her large purse and withdrew some folded paper. “I came to serve you this.” She thrust the papers toward him.
He froze at the word serve and refused to take the papers from her. “What is it?”
His discomfort and mistrust seemed to amuse her further because if her smile grew any wider, she was going to look like the Joker after a while. “I’m suing you.” She dropped the papers on the table in front of him. “Honey.”
“What for?” He snatched up the papers and rolled his gaze over the pages. So entrenched in his reading, he didn’t hear when Quentin entered the club, let alone him walking up to the table.
“Hey, cuz. What’s up?”
“FIFTY MILLION DOLLARS!” Eamon roared.
“Congratulations. You can read,” she said smugly. “Now, if you can write and add, I’ll be expecting that check when we go to court.”
Quentin placed one hand on the table and leaned over so that he could catch the fire-breathing Amazon’s attention. “Aren’t you a feisty one?” He flashed his woman-magnet dimples at her. “Please don’t break my heart and tell me that you’re dating my knucklehead cousin here.”
She leaned away from Quentin, suspicious of his over-the-top charm and his seemingly X-ray eyes.
“Fat chance,” Eamon barked. “She’s suing us.”
“Oh? Are you one of the owners of this—” she glanced around and drew a deep breath “—establishment?”
“Guilty. Quentin D. Hinton at your service.” He looked her over again. “Have you ever thought about a career as a dancer?”
“What the hell is wrong with you two?”
Eamon popped up from his chair. “Q, would you mind finishing up the auditions? Ms.…” He looked down at the paperwork. “Gregory?”
She smiled. “You’re still impressing me with those reading skills.”
He frowned at her constant sarcasm. “Ms. Gregory and I will be in the office if you need anything. There are just a few more girls. I’m sure you’re more than qualified to handle it.”
Quentin saluted. “Yes, sir. It’s a hard job, but someone has to do it.” He shifted his gaze back to Ms. Gregory. “When you finish your meeting you know where to find me.”
She simply stared at the handsome playboy like she had never met or even seen anyone like him before.
“This way, Ms. Gregory.” He swept his arm in the direction of the back office.
She hesitated for just a moment, but then finally pulled her purse strap over her shoulder and then marched off toward the back.
Quentin cocked his head to check out her walk.
Eamon socked him on the arm. “Ow. What?”
“Just…handle the auditions. Geez.” He fell in line behind Ms. Gregory. But after a few strides, his head slowly started to tilt to the side as well while he twisted his face at the sight of that wonderful jiggle this woman had.
She reached the door first and turned.
Eamon fixed his face and pasted on a smile just a nanosecond before she busted him.
However, her hard green eyes narrowed like she had eyes in the back of her head.
Playing it straight, he just opened the door. “After you.”
She hesitated again.
“Don’t worry. I don’t bite,” he assured her.
“Too bad,” she volleyed without missing a beat. “I do.”
Eamon’s brows jumped up at the response as she turned and crossed the threshold. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind,” he said and then fought like hell to keep his eyes trained on the back of her head. It didn’t work. He snuck another peek.
“Let me guess,” Hayley said from his assistant’s desk. “Another new hire?”
Ms. Gregory started to settle her hands on her hips again when Eamon jumped in. “No. Ms. Gregory and I have business to discuss in my office.” He opened his door.
“Aaah. Business.” Hayley winked. “I gotcha.”
Eamon shook his head. This was not one of those times to toss sexual innuendos around. He tried to convey that by casting a hard look at Hayley, but she gave him the same clueless expression as Quentin. “What?”
Sighing and rolling his eyes, Eamon finally entered his office and closed the door. “All right, Ms. Gregory. What’s this lawsuit all about?” He walked around his desk and plopped into his chair.
“The fact that my name is still Ms. Gregory,” she seethed.
Of course that answer only confused him more. He frowned and wrinkled his forehead.
She squinted and leaned forward. “Does your forehead say boy toy?”
Eamon coughed and then tried to bring the subject back to this lawsuit. “You want to explain what you mean?”
“It does,” she persisted. “Why do you have boy toy written on your head?”
Propping one elbow on the desk,