Read Online Wilde Magic (Wilde Women Book 3) by Suzanne Halliday - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Suzanne Halliday
Tags: WIlde Women book 3
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sheer, so no provocation there.
It would have to do.
She was an artist and for money taught others how to slow down and find enjoyment in simple things. There were plenty of studies and articles written about the benefits of artistic pursuits rivaling those associated with practicing yoga. Was what she did a bit unusual? Depends on which side of the holistic argument you sat on.
Slinging a leather satchel with a cross body strap over her head, she swiped on some glossy lip tint and went out to meet her destiny.
“T HAT WENT WELL, DON’T YOU think?”
Cal offered the enchanting art therapist a glass of wine, though her crinkled nose let him know his offer would be ignored.
The meeting with Dr. Andriotti had been a nightmare, and none of his lame attempts to spin it otherwise were going to score any points. ‘tessa had been in a right, royal snit the moment she arrived. The team’s doctor only made things worse. Despite signing off on Cal’s request for special therapeutic services, Andriotti made it clear that he found her methods highly problematic. Calling her style, “unusually American,” he’d pretty much dismissed everything she said.
Fuck him. Shuffling the pudgy Italian dottore out the door as soon as he could, Cal focused on just one thing. Getting the blonde beauty to smile at him again.
Pursing her lips, signaling that she was about to put him on blast, he watched as she crossed her legs noticing immediately that she was shaking one foot in an excited fashion.
Ignoring the wine he offered, she sat back with a huff, crossed her arms and surveyed him with the complete lack of a readable expression. The look was practiced. He could tell. A defensive move for when she wasn’t sure of her situation. He wondered if she played poker. With that deceptively blank face she could take down a high stakes tournament without breaking a sweat. It scared the fucking shit out of him. Nothing ever shook him up. Not after everything he’d been through.
“What do you want, Ty?” she snapped. “Why am I here?”
Cal leaned against the desk at his back and clasped his hands in front of him. He was struggling to manage a ferocious erection that surged to life ten seconds after she came through the door. Surprised that he couldn’t control his response, he worried that he was coming on too strong. And then she got all snippy with him and the blood in his head rushed straight for his dick.
Fan-fucking-tastic. Turned on by a pissed-off wild child. What the hell?
“You know why you’re here, ‘tessa,” he murmured unapologetically. She huffed and swung her foot more determinedly. “Would you prefer that I lie?” he asked softly.
He watched her closely. The blank expression wasn’t sustainable—not once her emotions kicked in. Cal noted the second she realized being a bitch wasn’t going to get her anywhere. The flash of relief in her gaze intrigued him. The Contessa didn’t like to play hard-ass. Good. Would save him the effort of having to break her down.
Finally, after a minute of tense silence during which she never relaxed or stopped shaking her foot, she sniped, “That doctor is a boob.”
When he heard the word, “boob,” Cal instinctively looked at hers. She narrowed her eyes and glared at him.
Thalia told him to agree with everything she said and maybe do a bit of groveling to make up for throwing his considerable and unfair weight around. Okay. He could do that. Nodding, so she’d know he agreed with her opinion of the team’s doctor, he went with hopeful sincerity in his answer.
“That’s why I asked for you. Physical therapy alone is a joke. I’m stronger now than before the accident but managing the pain is a real issue. My brain comprehends that there’s no reason for it but my body hasn’t gotten the memo. What you do is supposed to help.”
“Mind-body integration,” she said with a brief nod.
He didn’t give a shit what she called it as long as it led to her spending the
It would have to do.
She was an artist and for money taught others how to slow down and find enjoyment in simple things. There were plenty of studies and articles written about the benefits of artistic pursuits rivaling those associated with practicing yoga. Was what she did a bit unusual? Depends on which side of the holistic argument you sat on.
Slinging a leather satchel with a cross body strap over her head, she swiped on some glossy lip tint and went out to meet her destiny.
“T HAT WENT WELL, DON’T YOU think?”
Cal offered the enchanting art therapist a glass of wine, though her crinkled nose let him know his offer would be ignored.
The meeting with Dr. Andriotti had been a nightmare, and none of his lame attempts to spin it otherwise were going to score any points. ‘tessa had been in a right, royal snit the moment she arrived. The team’s doctor only made things worse. Despite signing off on Cal’s request for special therapeutic services, Andriotti made it clear that he found her methods highly problematic. Calling her style, “unusually American,” he’d pretty much dismissed everything she said.
Fuck him. Shuffling the pudgy Italian dottore out the door as soon as he could, Cal focused on just one thing. Getting the blonde beauty to smile at him again.
Pursing her lips, signaling that she was about to put him on blast, he watched as she crossed her legs noticing immediately that she was shaking one foot in an excited fashion.
Ignoring the wine he offered, she sat back with a huff, crossed her arms and surveyed him with the complete lack of a readable expression. The look was practiced. He could tell. A defensive move for when she wasn’t sure of her situation. He wondered if she played poker. With that deceptively blank face she could take down a high stakes tournament without breaking a sweat. It scared the fucking shit out of him. Nothing ever shook him up. Not after everything he’d been through.
“What do you want, Ty?” she snapped. “Why am I here?”
Cal leaned against the desk at his back and clasped his hands in front of him. He was struggling to manage a ferocious erection that surged to life ten seconds after she came through the door. Surprised that he couldn’t control his response, he worried that he was coming on too strong. And then she got all snippy with him and the blood in his head rushed straight for his dick.
Fan-fucking-tastic. Turned on by a pissed-off wild child. What the hell?
“You know why you’re here, ‘tessa,” he murmured unapologetically. She huffed and swung her foot more determinedly. “Would you prefer that I lie?” he asked softly.
He watched her closely. The blank expression wasn’t sustainable—not once her emotions kicked in. Cal noted the second she realized being a bitch wasn’t going to get her anywhere. The flash of relief in her gaze intrigued him. The Contessa didn’t like to play hard-ass. Good. Would save him the effort of having to break her down.
Finally, after a minute of tense silence during which she never relaxed or stopped shaking her foot, she sniped, “That doctor is a boob.”
When he heard the word, “boob,” Cal instinctively looked at hers. She narrowed her eyes and glared at him.
Thalia told him to agree with everything she said and maybe do a bit of groveling to make up for throwing his considerable and unfair weight around. Okay. He could do that. Nodding, so she’d know he agreed with her opinion of the team’s doctor, he went with hopeful sincerity in his answer.
“That’s why I asked for you. Physical therapy alone is a joke. I’m stronger now than before the accident but managing the pain is a real issue. My brain comprehends that there’s no reason for it but my body hasn’t gotten the memo. What you do is supposed to help.”
“Mind-body integration,” she said with a brief nod.
He didn’t give a shit what she called it as long as it led to her spending the
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