Read Online Pride & Pleasure (The KNIGHT Brothers Book 1) by Rhonda Lee Carver - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rhonda Lee Carver
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papers who write silly stuff seem even sillier.” A smile danced at the corner of his mouth. “Of course, we must factor in that I’m a temporary employee and certainly not your type. Didn’t I read somewhere that you never cross lines with employees?”
“I have no clue, except I have said that very thing on several occasions and it still holds true. Although, I am starting to think you have a mysterious side to you, Avary.”
She snorted. “I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong. I’m about as mysterious as a dead fish in an alley behind a seafood restaurant.”
“You blush after every other sentence. Whether you admit it or not, that’s mysterious. I’d like to know what thoughts are causing the flushing. Sexual, maybe?” He continued eating.
“Pale skin and the warmth of the room. Sorry to burst your bubble.”
He raised his eyebrows then popped a small bite of potato into his mouth. “I think it’s more than that.”
She placed her fork on her plate. “Do you always have to have your way?”
“I always get my way, Avary,” his soft voice seeped into her pores. Each time he said her name she compared it to a harp playing.
“No doubt, I’m sure. When you surround yourself with people who are paid to do your bidding that’s a given.” Why were things taking on a serious note? Couldn’t they just sit and have a nice business meal? She had a feeling most things regarding Victor were never simple.
“Oh, that’s right. You have a prejudice against rich people.” His gaze drilled into her.
“No, I have prejudice against people who believe they can buy anything they wish.” She folded her arms at the edge of the table.
“Ouch. Straight for the heart, yes indeed.” He lifted a hand and placed it over his heart and thrummed his fingers against his chest, mimicking a fast rhythmic beating.
“Don’t take it personal, Victor. Most people born with a silver spoon in their mouth are used to buying everything.”
He blinked. Had she gone too far? She needed a filter too. Something about this man irked her into saying things she shouldn’t. She started to apologize, but he smiled, showing off an even row of white teeth and deep dimples. So he liked that, huh?
“Tell me a little about yourself,” he asked.
“I think you know everything.” She tugged her hair behind her ear in nervous tension.
“I haven’t even gotten past the first layer. Do you have brothers and sisters?” He cut into his lamb.
“A sister. She’s a nurse. Her name is Dawn.”
“You two are close, I can tell.” He brought his fork to his mouth and she watched his lips move.
“Yes, but how do you know?” The temperature rose by at least ten degrees.
“Your eyes lit up when you started talking about her.” He sipped his wine and again she was mesmerized by the shape of his lips. The bottom was larger than the top.
“I owe her a great deal. Since—” She didn’t continue. Who did she think she was talking to? A bestie? No, he was a far cry from being a friend.
“The violent mugging?”
Her gaze automatically fell to the scar on her hand. The sleeve had moved up on her wrist, revealing the wound. She wasn’t used to worrying about it this often. She moved her hand under the table, out of view. “Yes.”
“Why do you do that?” he asked.
She blinked. “Do what?”
“Hide your scar? I assure you, it’s far worse with you dragging your sleeve down every few seconds than the wound itself. I hardly saw it.”
She often wondered how others were always comfortable talking about her scars, yet she remained reserved. “A habit, I guess.”
“One you should break. If I had a scar like that I’d show it off everywhere I went. You’re a survivor, Avary.” He sipped his wine. “Now, as you were saying, do you and your sister live together?”
She cleared her throat. “Yes. I moved in with her and she’s been a huge support system for me. Are you and your sister close?”
“Very. We sort of
“I have no clue, except I have said that very thing on several occasions and it still holds true. Although, I am starting to think you have a mysterious side to you, Avary.”
She snorted. “I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong. I’m about as mysterious as a dead fish in an alley behind a seafood restaurant.”
“You blush after every other sentence. Whether you admit it or not, that’s mysterious. I’d like to know what thoughts are causing the flushing. Sexual, maybe?” He continued eating.
“Pale skin and the warmth of the room. Sorry to burst your bubble.”
He raised his eyebrows then popped a small bite of potato into his mouth. “I think it’s more than that.”
She placed her fork on her plate. “Do you always have to have your way?”
“I always get my way, Avary,” his soft voice seeped into her pores. Each time he said her name she compared it to a harp playing.
“No doubt, I’m sure. When you surround yourself with people who are paid to do your bidding that’s a given.” Why were things taking on a serious note? Couldn’t they just sit and have a nice business meal? She had a feeling most things regarding Victor were never simple.
“Oh, that’s right. You have a prejudice against rich people.” His gaze drilled into her.
“No, I have prejudice against people who believe they can buy anything they wish.” She folded her arms at the edge of the table.
“Ouch. Straight for the heart, yes indeed.” He lifted a hand and placed it over his heart and thrummed his fingers against his chest, mimicking a fast rhythmic beating.
“Don’t take it personal, Victor. Most people born with a silver spoon in their mouth are used to buying everything.”
He blinked. Had she gone too far? She needed a filter too. Something about this man irked her into saying things she shouldn’t. She started to apologize, but he smiled, showing off an even row of white teeth and deep dimples. So he liked that, huh?
“Tell me a little about yourself,” he asked.
“I think you know everything.” She tugged her hair behind her ear in nervous tension.
“I haven’t even gotten past the first layer. Do you have brothers and sisters?” He cut into his lamb.
“A sister. She’s a nurse. Her name is Dawn.”
“You two are close, I can tell.” He brought his fork to his mouth and she watched his lips move.
“Yes, but how do you know?” The temperature rose by at least ten degrees.
“Your eyes lit up when you started talking about her.” He sipped his wine and again she was mesmerized by the shape of his lips. The bottom was larger than the top.
“I owe her a great deal. Since—” She didn’t continue. Who did she think she was talking to? A bestie? No, he was a far cry from being a friend.
“The violent mugging?”
Her gaze automatically fell to the scar on her hand. The sleeve had moved up on her wrist, revealing the wound. She wasn’t used to worrying about it this often. She moved her hand under the table, out of view. “Yes.”
“Why do you do that?” he asked.
She blinked. “Do what?”
“Hide your scar? I assure you, it’s far worse with you dragging your sleeve down every few seconds than the wound itself. I hardly saw it.”
She often wondered how others were always comfortable talking about her scars, yet she remained reserved. “A habit, I guess.”
“One you should break. If I had a scar like that I’d show it off everywhere I went. You’re a survivor, Avary.” He sipped his wine. “Now, as you were saying, do you and your sister live together?”
She cleared her throat. “Yes. I moved in with her and she’s been a huge support system for me. Are you and your sister close?”
“Very. We sort of
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