Trading Passion With The Ruthless Tycoon

But under Julian's unwavering gaze, the words just tumbled out.

ed against her uninjured hand. The contact was fleeting, accidental, but it sent another shiver through her. Her mouth went dry

watch on his wrist. It was a simple, classic design, but the dark leather band and the subtle gleam of the steel

ark hair fell across his forehead. He was even more striking up close than he had been in the dim light of the bar. T

know your name

brushed once over the bandage

the broken pieces of her prototype. "I'll be in touch," he said,

ould close it behind him. As he moved aside, his shoulder brushed against her

frantic, irregular rhythm. The intensity of her reaction to this stranger-this h

persistent pain. She needed coffee. Desperately. Pulling on a pair of old sweatpants and a

t was an unwelcome intru

er. The car was a beast, all muscle and raw power. He moved with a fluid, confiden

all comfort. But when she got to the counter, she realized

got

e was standing right there, holding a bottle of water. B

face flushing with embarras

sture," Julian said, his lips twi

oze, the coffee cup

tured with his head toward their building. Her ap

hysical blow. The noise complaint. The toolbox. It w

n her at the bar, and had used her accident as an excuse t

etreat. She took a step back,

"You left in a hurry last night," he said, his voice

ity. He had seen her at her most desperate, a predator sizing up তার prey. He had seen

washed over her. She fel

g about," she snapped, grabbing

," he said to her retreating ba

ked escape, and slammed the door of her apartment