Slave to Love Read Online Free Page B

have actual cramps. Full blown freaking stomach cramps.
    He’s sitting in one of those curved booths along the wall, typing into his phone as I slide into the other side, keeping my distance.
    “Hi.” I’m trying to be so cool.
    Looking up at me, I get a slow smile. A sexy, I’m going to eat you for dinner wolfish grin.
    Keep it together, Sierra, I remind myself. This is business, not a date with this guy.
    “Good flight?” he’s succinct.
    “Uneventful. So that’s always good.” A busboy puts down two waters in front of us and I pause before speaking again. “Are you in Austin often?”
    “A lot more in the past few months as our presence expands here.”
    The waitress comes by and he orders two Bourbon Manhattans. I know I’ve got a “what the fuck” look on my face because he’s smiling at me. He didn’t even ask me what I wanted. I don’t drink Bourbon. But for some reason I love that he didn’t care and went ahead anyway. There’s something so manly and hot in how authoritative he is.
    “Don’t like Manhattans?” He appears amused.
    “I don’t know. I’ve never had one.”
    The wolfish smile is back, “I figured maybe your bartender boyfriend made you a Manhattan in Manhattan.”
    My bartender boyfriend? How interesting that is the info about me that stuck with him. Very interesting.
    The waitress is back, placing the dark amber liquid before us. Raising a martini glass, Hale toasts, “To winning,” as he takes his first sip.
    I’m sitting there, glass in hand, watching him, fumes of strong alcohol making my nose twitch.
    “Try it,” he demands.
    Slowly I bring the martini glass to my mouth, peering over the rim. I immediately feel the burn as it hits my lips, leaving a scorched trail en route to my empty stomach. I can feel the rush as it enters my bloodstream and wonder if after the second or third I will feel comfortable with this way too handsome, for his own good and mine, man. My eyes have not left his as he watches me drink. There’s nothing boyish about him. He’s pure man, right down to the dark stubble on his defined jaw. I wonder what it would feel like trailing down my breasts to my nipples. The thought of the scratchiness makes me squirm.
    “That’s delicious,” I smile at him, loving the warmth the alcohol is spreading right down to the far reaches of my fingertips. I nearly demolish the drink in the next two sips. Anything to relax around this guy.
    Hale signals the waitress for two more Manhattans and I’ll be damned if I’m going to protest.
    Leaning in toward me, his gaze direct and searing, “I like a woman who can run with the boys.”
    Not breaking his eye contact, “I may have to pull off my Louboutins, but I can run with the best of ‘em.”
    “That’s what your boss says,” he informs me.
    “So why am I here and not Susan, Hale? She manages your business for us and has a much better understanding of your needs.”
    Pulling the martini glass from his mouth, he sputters the liquid and chokes slightly. By his smile I can tell he is amused. “Do you really think she has a much better understanding of my needs?”
    Now I’m choking on my words, “Your business needs,” I clarify.
    “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He smiles and pauses for a moment before he continues. “Sierra, what I’m putting together is an unprecedented think tank event with very high profile participants that, in many cases, due to divergent politics, aren’t usually seen on the same continent together, much less in the same room. From a logistics and security perspective, this event is going to provide significant challenges and honestly, the entire nature of it needs to be,” he pauses, as if searching for a word, “rather clandestine, until we’re finished and ready to announce what was accomplished.”
    I must still have a look of confusion on my face as he smiles. His dark blue eyes clearly display amusement for some reason.
    “You’re still saying, ‘why