The Takeover (The Miles High Club 2)

Good God, the devil really does wear Prada.

I’m totally fucking screwed.

Chapter 12

I take deep breaths as I try to ignore the feelings that Tristan Miles arouses in me.

Maybe that’s it—it’s just a bad-boy thing.

Yes, all women experience this at least once in their lives. I’m just doing it a little later than most.

Of

course.

That is totally it. Why didn’t I realize this before?

I know I shouldn’t want him, and so therefore I do. Maybe if he were the perfect model citizen, I wouldn’t even want him at all.

I sip my wine in celebration about my epiphany. God . . . and I thought I really liked him. Stupid idiot. This is actually a relief.

My phone vibrates on the table as it receives a text. Tristan. Here we go.

Let me guess,

Gabriel Ferrara is offering to

help you financially?

I frown. What? Angered, I text back.

Gabriel is a good friend.

I’m offended.

Stop texting me before I block you.

A reply bounces back.

If you block me, who’s going to

nail you through the mattress tonight?

I bite my lip to stop myself from smiling. I write back.

I am on a date with another man.

I wouldn’t get too cocky if I were you.

An answer bounces back.

You don’t like him,

I know you don’t.

I roll my eyes; the arrogance of this man is next level.

Okay Siri,