The Intern: The Billionaire's Successor

That got a smile out of her, which made me feel so damn accomplished because I had seen few things more beguiling than her smile: a little wry, a little mischievous, and sexy from top to bottom. “It’s for the best. Plus, I spent a few minutes earlier telling you about the asshole who abandoned me here, so I should think rationally instead of with my tits for, like, two minutes and accept that jumping into bed with a guy I met in a bar may not be the wisest decision.” She continued to smile as she finished speaking, her green eyes light as she surveyed me. “Hey, have you been to the Rijksmuseum yet?”

“My brother and I were going to go tomorrow.” My brother? Stupid answer, Davis. She’s giving you an opening. How you got this far in life is anybody’s guess.

That time, she actually was disappointed. She took a small step back and parted her lips, the words clearly lingering as she tried to ascertain how this turned into a rejection. “Oh, got it. Because I was going to say, if you don’t have plans to go while you’re in Amsterdam then you’re making a mistake, but—”

“Did you want to come with us?” I asked, refusing to let her flounder.

Her eyes lit up again, the smile was back on her face, and my heart was right back to racing like she was pulling an engine cord. “He won’t mind?”

Frankly, I didn’t care. “I’ll give you my number. We can meet outside the museum at eleven.”