His to Keep (Beauty and the Brit) Read Online Free Page B

must treat all women as potential sex partners, because Brynn couldn’t think of one reason why he’d single her out.
    She put him somewhere in his early thirties. Tall, with wide shoulders and narrow hips, the mere idea of what he must look like naked sent a little thrill shooting up her spine. Not that she’d ever find out. Still, Brynn’s fingers itched to grab a pencil and start sketching based on her imagination alone.
    Iain was stunning in a virile, hot, masculine way. With his short, black hair neatly combed away from his face, it tended toward wavy. One lock broke ranks and fell across the top of his forehead, where ghostly horizontal lines deepened when he frowned. Which he’d done a couple of times in the last five minutes. Shallow sunbursts radiated from the corners of his eyes—sharp eyes that missed nothing. Not her toenails or her brace lets…or her boobs—he’d checked those out more than once. It must have been a habitual reaction, because Brynn didn’t have much to ogle. She wouldn’t be able to hold the interest of a man who wore arrogance and self-assurance as casually as he wore an expensive designer suit. He even had one of those little pocket-square things that matched his silver tie.
    And to top it off, he was British. Not that there was anything wrong with that—both of her brothers-in-law were Brits. Posh ones. But there was nothing posh about Iain Chapman, despite his clothes. The three-piece charcoal suit, the starched white shirt, the power tie—they smacked of wealth. This office, with its expensive furnishings, the outstanding view, and a floor so shiny she could see her reflection—it made a statement. Luxury. Success. Elegance. But that accent gave him away. Iain didn’t come from wealth—he’d earned it.
    Now standing only a foot apart, he still leaned toward her. Brynn fought the urge to take another step backward, give herself a little breathing room. Somehow, she managed to keep her feet in place.
    He was the antithesis of everything Brynn normally found attractive in a man—he was large, intimidating, cocky. She’d only had two relationships, and both had ended up the same way—in humiliation. But they had been boys, unsure of themselves. Iain Chapman was one hundred percent confident man.
    Brynn felt a sharp tug of desire, a pull of sexual interest so strong it caused her breasts to feel prickly and sensitive. Caused her nipples to harden. Warmth spread through her body as he continued to size her up.
    She’d never experienced anything like this, but she had to ignore it, because A) Iain Chapman was her client. Romance between coworkers was fraught with inherent drawbacks and inevitable embarrassing conse quences—as outlined in the HR manual Fraternization: Keep It Out of the Workplace . B) He was simply too much. Not only was his physical presence overwhelming, but his personality also sucked up all the oxygen in the room. He filled the space, commandeered every square inch of it. And that intimidated the hell out of her. C) He was sexually intense. Brynn didn’t do intense, and she was an abject failure in the sex department. She had a low-gasm problem that wouldn’t be solved by a man like Iain Chapman. He’d only make her affliction worse—or at least more embarrassing. So…time to snuff out that sexual spark and get on with the business at hand.
    Shoving the pen behind her ear, she once again tightened her arms around the binder, as if it could shield her from the inviting heat in his eyes. “ I think you would be sabotaging your chance for personal development by not completing the course yourself.” She tried to appear unaffected as she scuttled past him and moved to a large, tufted sofa near one window. She sat on the edge of the slick, brown leather. If she scooted back any farther, her feet wouldn’t touch the floor.
    He turned his head, his steady gaze following her. “Why do you say it that way?”
    “Say what?”
    “Stress the word ‘I.’