One Wild Wedding Night_ Runaway - Leslie Kelly [12]
total bullshit but at least understandable if you had a single modest bone in your body, which you don’t.”
Slone shook his head, not sure whether to laugh or be offended. “That was a mouthful.”
She ignored him. “But rich is rich, it’s not in the eye of the beholder.”
“Unless you’re some decently paid TV personality beholding Oprah Winfrey’s bank account.”
Frowning, she grudgingly admitted, “Okay, there’s wealthy, rich and filthy rich. Where do you fall in there?”
If he sensed she had a greedy, selfish bone in her body, he might have been concerned about the questions. But she didn’t. He knew it, for some reason. Slone was a damn fine judge of character and he’d already pegged hers: ruthlessly honest, blunt and a whole lot more vulnerable than she’d ever want anyone to realize.
Her mouth confirmed the honest part. Her fingerless gloves the vulnerable part.
He’d put her in cashmere, if he had his way.
“Well?” she prompted.
“Put me closer to the I-won-the-lottery-in-a-small-state than the Bill Gates side of the scale, okay?”
“Gotcha.” She shot him a thumbs-up. “And just to be fair so I don’t seem rude for asking, I’ll share, too. I am so not rich. Put me somewhere between the I-won-ten-bucks-on-a-scratch-off-ticket and the at-least-I’m-not-on-unemployment side of the scale.”
Slone threw his head back and laughed, so damned charmed by her. She made him feel…young. Carefree.
In years, he was, indeed, pretty young. But carefree? Well, that he was not. Not nearly as much as some of his detractors might think.
Some would suspect that since he’d taken over a successful real-estate empire from his late father at the young age of twenty-two, he could be lazy and carefree, living off someone else’s money. But Slone had been fighting for five years to keep that empire solvent. And to keep the world—and his own mother and sisters—from finding out just how far his father had let that business go in his final years.
It had taken Slone every ounce of energy and determination he had to get the Kincaid fortune back to where it had once been. There had been no time to be young and carefree. Or even to be involved in any kind of serious relationship with a woman.
Frankly, that had always seemed okay to Slone—especially given the determination of his mother and sisters to see him settled. He didn’t mind dating many women and getting close to absolutely none, didn’t mind bedding a woman, then going home alone. That was what he preferred.
Until tonight. He couldn’t even be sure what had prompted him to demand a full night from Leah, nor what had caused him to suggest that they retreat to his place. He never brought a woman there if he could avoid it. But with Leah, he’d actually sought out that invasion of his personal life.
Bad move, Kincaid. Perhaps. But at this moment, watching her, feeling smile after smile break out on his normally stern face, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.
One thing was sure, now that he’d met Leah he knew he’d been missing out on one thing: absolutely the best sex of his life. He’d had his fair share of women…but he’d never been as out of his mind insane with desire as he’d been with this stranger an hour ago.
“This is so much better than the L,” Leah said, interrupting his musings.
She wiggled around in the seat, as if testing the cushiness against her bottom. Opening the minifridge, she helped herself to a bottle of spring water. Not content to sit still long enough to drink it, she got on her knees and turned around to peer out the window as they passed through the city.
Lord have mercy, he thought as he stared at her, kneeling, her curvy, gorgeous ass tilted right at him.
Slone reached for his nearly forgotten drink and took a deep sip from it, determined to remain strong and in control for at least the brief length of time it took them to get home.
She hardly seemed