Fortune by Annabel Joseph (ebook reader for comics TXT) 📕

He sighed. “We both are, Kat. Don’t you realize that? That’s why things get so hot when we’re together. We both have something the other needs.”

“I need you to leave me alone.”

“Let’s just take that off the table. I’m not going to leave you alone because I don’t think you want me to. I think you say the exact opposite of what you feel as often as possible. Why do you do that?”

She stood facing him, her hands in fists at her side. Her expression was one of desperation. The angry shrew of the moment before had transformed into his lost girl, conflicted as ever. Her shoulders slumped and the tension in her face unwound, letting the mask fall away just for a moment. He tilted her face up to see green eyes gazing back at him with a frown.

“You know, Kat, this isn’t as scary as you’re making it.”

She pulled away from him, cool and wary again. “You don’t understand. You think you do, but you don’t understand how this feels to me. I’m really not into this stuff.”

“What ‘stuff’?”

“Relationships.”

“Why? You had a relationship that ended badly?”

“I just…don’t like relationships.”

“You’ve never been in a relationship at all?” She crossed her arms over her chest, pouting hard. He gazed at her in disbelief. “You haven’t, have you?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“That means no.”

“Fine. No, I haven’t. Like I said, I’m not relationship material, and to be honest I wouldn’t get into a relationship with you anyway.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have a feeling you wouldn’t be easy to live with.”

Well. She hit close to the truth on that.

* * * * *

Kat wasn’t sure how they ended up at the all-night diner. He had a way of getting her to do things she had no intention of doing. She slouched in the booth across from him in her skimpy black club clothes, looking around at all the drunk, happy people. That might have been her if she hadn’t come home early and fallen into his clutches. But she’d come home because all she could think about was how bad she craved his fucking clutches, damn it.

She scowled over at him as the waitress poured their coffee, then busied herself emptying four packets of sugar and two shots of cream into her mug. He sighed when she reached for the fifth packet, resting his head on his hand. Was that supposed to impress her, his disapproving sigh? Of course Mr. Perfect drank his decaf black.

He looked around as she stirred her sugary concoction. She slid him a look from under her lashes. Lord. She thought by now she would be inured to his masculine perfection, but she was still taken aback by his sculpted arms, the strength in his shoulders. She was fascinated by the authority he exuded with nothing more than a glance or subtle movement. He was so intelligent, so important. A surgeon. Why was she sitting here with him? Good lord, he’d fucked her brains out twice already. Here in the brightly lit diner, sitting across from him, the realization blew her away.

He wore a white tee, simple but devastating when paired with his perfect biceps and pecs. His face had a symmetry that somehow remained handsome no matter his expression. He looked handsome when he was angry, he looked handsome when he was mild, and when he smiled at her…damn. She noticed all the other ladies in the diner casting looks at him. Some of the guys too.

But his annoying psychoanalysis unnerved her. I think you say the exact opposite of what you feel as often as possible. It was true. He had totally pegged her and it freaked her out. Unlike all the other men she collected and discarded like trading cards, he alone seemed to understand the unhappiness that dogged her. Which is exactly why she couldn’t bear to be in a relationship with him.

“Okay, Kat,” he said, leaning back with a sigh. “I’m going to talk, but you have to listen. You have to give this some thought. I know you. You’re going to close your mind to whatever I have to say. Try not to do that this time, for once.”

“You’re so irritating.”

“And the smart mouth—first things first. It’s got to go.”

“I like my smart mouth, and you have no right to tell me what to do.”

The waitress appeared before he could respond to that with anything more than a frown. He ordered first, an egg-white omelet with peppers and mushrooms. She barely restrained herself from making a gagging sound. “I’ll have a bacon and cheese omelet with a double order of hash browns on the side,” Kat said. He shook his head before she even finished.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you order that.”

She looked over at him, her mouth dropping open. “What?”

“I care about you too much to let you eat that. No. Order something else.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

He looked over at the waitress with a patient smile. “If you could just give us a minute.”

She smiled and sashayed away, obviously under his spell. His charm might work on her, but not on Kat. She glared over at him. “Who the hell do you think you are?“

“Now, Kat—”

“Are you seriously going to tell me what I can and cannot eat? Seriously? I am not fat.”

“I never said you were fat. You’re actually a little on the thin side in my opinion. But I’m curious what your arteries look like. Or your intestines for that matter.”

“Oh god,” she groaned, clapping her hands over her ears. “Please stop.”

“I’m only suggesting you order something a little healthier. Take care of your body. You’ve already put an entire day’s worth of sugar in your coffee.”

“An entire day’s worth? An hour’s worth, maybe. I like sugar.”

“You clearly like grease and nitrates too. But you’d feel better if you ordered something more nutritious, like some proteins and fruit.”

“You can take your proteins and fruit and shove them up your fucking—”

“Kat. Language. Please.”

Language? Jesus. She stood up, intent on flouncing