Code of Control Read Online Free Page A

severing
the possibility. “You do purr, don’t you?” he whispered, hardly able to find
voice.
    Charlotte’s
cheeks inflamed, she met his eyes, remaining mute to this truth. They both knew
she could purr like a well-tuned Ferrari.

 
     
    Chapter Three
     
     
    Insane? No
doubt, certifiably insane was her newest calling.
    Charlotte was
riding shotgun with Nolan Morgan in a black Hummer, headed to an unknown
destination—supposedly maneuvers. She had on a prim black pantsuit and sensible
heels. Maneuvers dressed like this would be non-accomplishable. She needed
jeans, a T-shirt, combat boots, and an I-pad.
    He must have
read her mind about the poor choice of attire because he said, “When we get
there, you can change.”
    She gave him a
toothy grin. “This is not proper attire for where we are going?” Since leaving his
office, the man’s sour resolve checked any mirth about their oddly done
interview.
    “No, it isn’t.
Not where we are going.”
    “Any hints?” She
was tired, cranky, still sore, and sitting next to him in close proximity was
driving her libido insane. Yes, horny had a way of creeping into one’s daily
life when least expected.
    She glanced at
his profile.
    “I forgot to
water my plants, if this is going to take a while,” she added, expecting he
would give in sooner or later and just tell her where they were going and for
how long.
    “Sweetheart,
where we are going…your plants will be dead by the time you getting back to quench
their thirst.”
    Charlotte
groaned, never figuring he would say this to her. She just bought the bromeliad,
paid an arm and leg or it—named it Fred. She did not want Fred to die because Nolan
Morgan had a vendetta against her—a sex vendetta he could not seem to get over
without causing one or both harm.
    “Just sit back,
relax, and watch the passing scenery….”
    Charlotte dropped
her gaze from his brooding profile and glanced out the windshield. “We are in
Iowa, Mr. Morgan. The only scenery is empty cornfields.” Since it was the end
of April, this would change, but they were empty now.
    “Then count fucking
sheep, for all I care.”
    “There are no
sheep in Iowa. And I would not dream of watching them screwing each other, even
if there were any.”
    He rolled his
jaw, his brows tipping up. “Every state has sheep, Charlotte.”
    “Not Iowa. And
if it does, they’re Republican sheep.”
    “Republ—Damn, woman,
are you going to be this way the entire trip?”
    “That would depend,”
she challenged him.
    He turned and met
this false courageousness head on. “On what?”
    “How far this
trip is,” she said sweetly, watching his jaw muscle twitch, his lips press
tight. She was definitely getting his goat, still sore about the man calling
her a hooker and simply doing her best to rectify the terrible mistake.
    “Another hour,
at least,” he grumbled.
    Charlotte reined
in her reaction to this, turning to face the highway. “Then yes, I’m going to
be this way.”
    Nolan turned the
Hummer off the highway and onto a country road, groaning. He did not comment or
elaborate.
    “Is this the way
to maneuvers?” Finally, an answer to the mystery of the man.
    He slowed the
Hummer, coming to halt on the side of the road. Self-righteous indignation
flashed from his eyes. “I’m starting to reconsider my value to hiring you all
of a sudden.”
    Oh, really?
    “You can’t
change your mind now. You’re stuck with me. Our signed contract says so.” Surely,
he would not fire her on the same day he hired her. She would never be able to
live that down, never mind the fact she was a little behind in bill paying.
Okay, a lot behind in bill paying.
    “I can kill you,
dump your body in sheep-less Iowa, hit the freeway again, and never look back,”
he said glumly. “Firing you would be too vanilla at this point.”
    “My goodness. Did
you eat sour potatoes for breakfast, Mr. Morgan?”
    “I did not have any
breakfast. I was a little busy with, um, other